Softly Calls the Serengeti by Frank Coates

in the village in peril. We must act quickly.’
    Simon refused.
    The old man warned him that if he didn’t complete the cleansing, he would be cursed with bad luck all his life. It was hard for Simon to disobey his grandfather, but again he refused.
    The council of elders became involved. They asked Simon why he would not follow the tested Luo procedure to protect himself and all those close to him from the evils of an uncleansed death.
    Simon couldn’t answer.
    The debate raged among the Luo and Sergeant Mutua heard of it. He came to Simon’s house while he was absent. His grandfather told him of the sergeant’s visit when Simon arrived home.
    â€˜Now, see what has happened,’ he said. ‘The government people know about it already. Now we will proceed. I will call on the medicine man tomorrow to perform the cleansing. We will have it as soon as possible.’
    He could not be dissuaded. Simon went to stay with his mother, but when her new husband heard that Simon had refused the cleansing, he chased him out.
    For two weeks, he hid in the forest, stealing or begging foodfrom friends and relatives, until they too became concerned about the bad luck they would incur by continuing to aid him.
    In desperation he went to his grandfather and confessed to his part in Mutua’s disgrace.
    â€˜You cannot let Mutua come for me,’ he pleaded. ‘If he takes me away, he will beat me.’
    His grandfather looked sad, but he could not ignore the customs. ‘It is what must be done.’
    Simon then told him about the ferocious beating Mutua had given Odhiambo. ‘I fear he may do worse to me. Maybe he will kill me.’
    Now his grandfather wrung his hands with worry. ‘I must think carefully about this,’ he said, but there was no doubt he was sorely troubled.
    Within days the old man was ailing. It tortured Simon to be the cause of his grandfather’s failing health. He felt his only option was to leave.
    Within three days he was on an express bus to Nairobi. He greatly regretted leaving, but now he was on his way, he became excited by the adventure. Everyone knew the big city far to the east was full of opportunities.
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    Blaring horns and a cacophony of traffic noises awoke Simon shortly after dawn. The Nairobi terminal was in turmoil as he stepped down from the bus. His fellow passengers were frantically calling to the turn-boy to toss their bags from the roof. When he did, they threw themselves into the human maelstrom and disappeared like sticks in a flooded stream. They were obviously more aware than Simon of what was creating the surrounding panic. As people jostled around him, he clutched his kikapu to his chest, awaiting whatever disaster may be about to befall them. All his worldly belongings were in that simple straw basket.
    After several minutes, he realised there was no panic. People were merely getting on with their day, although in a very different and much noisier manner than he was accustomed to in the lake province.
    A boy pulling a push-cart full of viazi tamu bustled past him. Seeing the sweet potatoes that were widely grown around Lake Victoria gave Simon a twinge of homesickness. He thrust it from his mind as he realised he had absolutely no idea what to do next. The bus and roof rack of luggage were now empty. The passengers had scattered into the throng and another bus edged towards Simon, tooting its demand for the space he was occupying. He retreated to the sidelines, where a long row of food vendors were noisily hawking their wares.
    â€˜ Bhang? ’ a voice at his shoulder asked.
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜ Bhang? You want bhang ? Very fresh.’
    The youth, perhaps a year or two older than Simon, waved a plastic bag filled with dried leaves under his nose while nervously turning his own head from left to right.
    â€˜No,’ Simon said, unsure if the boy was offering to give it to him or sell it. He wasn’t even sure he’d