NYU Black Renaissance Noire Winter/Spring 2012 | Page 12
10
Chata walked to Rendani’s compound,
which was composed of his house
and surrounded by four other houses.
Behind each one of the surrounding
houses was a small hozi on stilts built
in the shape of the bigger houses and
thatched with grass like them. The last
time Chata was here there were only
three of these houses because Rendani
had three wives. Could he have
surreptitiously married a fourth wife?
A short distance from the compound
was a stone structure, roughly built
and thatched with reeds. This was the
cage of Rendani’s pet leopards, which
he brought up from the time they were
tiny cubs after killing their mother in
a hunt.
Chata stood in front of Rendani’s
door and announced himself. No one
responded. He was about to walk to
the house of the senior wife to leave a
message when Rendani appeared with
his two leopards on leashes. He was
wearing a muslin loin cloth and a tanned
leopard skin kaross. He was imposingly
tall and was beginning to develop a
hint of a flab on a once-sinewy body.
Rendani looked at Chata from head to
toe as if to size him up; then he fixed
his gaze at the kanga. Chata observed
him closely with an amused expression
on his face. He shook his head subtly
when he saw the leather band with a
red feather on Rendani’s head, a preserve
of members of the Royal Family, and
he chuckled; this man used to be as
much of a commoner as any man below
the hill. Until he wormed his way into
the heart of power and consolidated his
status by marrying Princess Dova, one
of Baba-Munene’s daughters. To be fair
to Rendani, initially he never had any
intentions of marrying the princess and
was not even attracted to her in the first
place. It had all been part of old Zwanga’s
grand plan, he was keen to reinforce
his newly-minted patrician status, and
like all the nobles on top of the hill
who developed marriage alliances with
other influential families, he plotted
the marriage and paid Baba-Munene a
lot of gold for the honour. Now Rendani
never let anyone forget his royal
connections and the red feather made
sure of that.
“You took your time,” said Rendani.
“I sent the boy very early in the morning,
but you are only coming now?”
Chata ignored his annoyance.
“I didn’t know you took a fourth wife.”
“I was supposed to appear before the
Council of Elders about the next palisade
ceremony, but I had to wait for you.”
“You took a fourth wife and you didn’t
even invite me, mukomana?”
Mukomana. My brother. They had
always called each other that from the
days they used to play silly boyhood
games on the banks of the Limpopo
River. Although the word was used
specifically for an elder brother or
sister the two boys called each other
mukomana despite the fact that they
were almost of the same age.
“What makes you think I married a
fourth wife?”
“The new house.”
“Oh, that! It’s just there in case I decide
to do so.”
“Have an eye on someone?”
Actually Chata was wondering if
Rendani had received Princess Dova’s
approval. It was the tradition for
men to obtain the approval of all their
wives before they could marry another
one. Indeed a man could have an
eye on one maiden only to find that
his wives were keen on a completely
different woman. Chata doubted if
Princess Dova would be thrilled to lose
her status as the youngest wife. As a
princess she would certainly not want
to be one of the nondescript middle
wives. Only first and last wives had
any semblance of power in a marriage.
The middle wives were more like
servants, not only of the man but of
the senior and junior wives. Surely
Rendani would not want to alienate the
Royal Family by turning the daughter
of the most powerful man in the
kingdom after the King into chattel.
But Chata did not voice these thoughts.
“I didn’t call you here to discuss my
private life,” said Rendani abruptly.
“Since when have your marriages been
private, Rendi?”
Rendani flinched a bit at the use of the
nickname. Even his father no longer
called him that ever since he was elevated
to the position of Royal Sculptor.