by Asen Djinah
‘Instead of providing assistance, the young man panicked and came straight to me to report the matter,’ he added.
Mahafuz remained silent. He thought about the purse of silver and copper coins they had found last night under Mustafa’s sleeping rug when they were tidying the tent for the wake. He did not say anything about this to Hamza, but it did look like Mustafa was involved in some sort of deception. Also, when he had mentioned that the boy was dead, it was clear from Hamza’s reaction that he had genuinely believed the boy was only wounded.
‘It was purely an accident,’ Hamza said, ‘but, with due respect to his soul, the boy was at fault for initially trying to cheat my man out of money.’
‘It may be possible that it was an accident, but the fact is that a life has been taken. My men are demanding that we stick to the law of retaliation, “an eye for an eye”,’ Mahafuz responded.
Hamza had known that it would come to this, but he had been planning to pay compensation for an injury only. With the boy dead, he would now be expected to pay blood money – which would be considerably more. He would have to bargain hard whilst at the same time make an offer that would satisfy Mahafuz and his men.
‘Will ten goats be enough compensation for this tragic accident?’ he proposed as a starting point.
The negotiation lasted for another hour and after much bargaining, both leaders finally agreed that Hamza would offer a quarter of his goats as compensation, but no camels. With a flock of about two hundred, losing fifty goats would cause much hardship to his tribe.
‘The next couple of years will be hard on my people, since we are already living on the brink of famine,’ he said to Mahafuz, although he knew very well that he was being let off lightly.
Losing that many goats meant the tribe would have to do with less milk and meat. Not to mention they would not have any goat to sell in order to buy basic supplies. Hamza knew that his men would be angry at such a settlement, but he had no choice.
‘This deal is better than bloodshed and loss of lives,’ he convinced himself as he thought of the terrible times ahead.
Mahafuz was fully aware of the impact that losing fifty goats would have on the other tribe and had not pushed for a larger compensation. His men too would be unhappy with him for not demanding more.
‘My men will think that fifty goats for a life is too cheap a price. I will have a hard time to convince them,’ Mahafuz said.
The two men stood up and moved out in the open for everyone to see. They embraced each other three times for everyone to be aware that they had reached an agreement. Men from both sides would have to comply to this binding agreement – whether they liked or not.
Over the next few years the Qufreid tribe went through terrible hardships. They lost many children and elderly members of the tribe through malnutrition and disease, while the rest of the tribe were all looking thin and gaunt. With no animals to sell and only a few leather goods that the women produced, they could only afford to buy less than half the flour needed for the entire tribe. Although their work day was hard, they had to ration themselves in order to build their livestock back up to a sustainable level. They lived mostly on a diet of watered sour milk and dates, with the occasional piece of bread. Everyone was constantly hungry and tired. The men and women had taken the practice of sticking a large stone under the tightened strings of their undergarments to quench the hunger pains in their stomachs as they toiled through the day. Although they were bitter at the agreement Hamza had made, they did not fault their leader. Instead they put the blame squarely on the Juhayah tribe. At the water-wells they would tell everyone how they were made to suffer for the accidental death of a cheating boy.
Eventually the men from the Juhayah tribe came to learn about the slandering and in turn they started to spread their version of the story.
‘Can you believe it? A harmless, unarmed disabled boy was attacked and murdered by a member of the Qufreid tribe. Our boy did not stand a chance against his attacker. Such a callous murder. And they only paid fifty goats as blood money,’ they would tell anyone who would listen.
They bitterly resented the accusation of cheating and the attempt to tarnish poor Mustafa’s memory. Everyone across the desert eventually came to learn about the feud between the two tribes. At festival times, when the tribes of the desert gathered together, men from the two rival tribes nearly came to blows on a number of occasions. It had been a miracle that so far there had not been any bloodshed. With great effort, both leaders had barely managed to control their men, threatening them with exile if they were to attack the other party. Still the men would curse and insult each other at every opportunity.
Chapter 6
At long last, Hayder and Asif were only one day away from reaching their destination. The previous evening they had arrived at the town of Beryan and found Muadh waiting for them. Muadh had tracked down the Juhayah’s camp and informed the tribesmen of Asif and Hayder’s forthcoming visit. He had then made his way to Beryan to wait for his employers. After giving them directions to the tribe’s exact location, Muadh returned back to Kuffrat. Hayder and Asif had already been travelling for over a week and could not wait for the journey to end, having been in saddle for so long. Also being so close to their destination, Hayder grew even more impatient to see his family after such a long time. Relishing the time he would spend with his kin, Hayder had completely forgotten about his recent disappointment and was free from his previous gloomy thoughts.
‘I feel better now that I have confided in Uncle Asif. He now understands why I behaved so poorly,’ he thought to himself.
‘I will ask my cousins to organise a couple of hunting trips into the desert. I miss those outings dearly,’ he told Asif.
He had always wanted to hunt the elusive desert dama gazelle, but had never been successful on the few occasions he had tried. As Hayder adjusted his posture, his hand touched the bundle of fine materials behind his saddle and he smiled.
‘I can’t wait to hear the screams of joy from Aziza and Jamila and see their faces when I give them the dress materials,’ he said to his uncle.
Hayder had purchased some fine silk materials for his sisters and could picture them going round the tents to show off their presents.
They left Beryan in the morning with Ali the guide encouraging them for the final leg of the journey.
‘Now that we know exactly where the camp is, we will reach it tomorrow before midday,’ he said as they left.
The caravan moved at the slow monotonous pace of the camels through the bare landscape. The day dragged on slowly through the unchanging scenery. In the late afternoon light, the pale-coloured dunes gave the scene a sombre atmosphere with their long dark shadows in the background. Occasionally a brick-red dune would break the uniformity of this desolate landscape. The silence of the desert was broken only by the sound of the camels’ feet on the sand or the occasional screech of a desert eagle. As he looked up, Hayder saw a couple of them circling in the clear blue sky, desperately looking for that rare and elusive prey in the heat of the afternoon.
‘Uncle, I am glad to have your company. I could never have undertaken this journey on my own,’ he said, turning to Asif.
Not many could travel alone in the vastness of the desert. Without companionship, without having someone to talk to and share the hardships of the journey, a man could easily be driven to madness. With only one’s thoughts as company, the barren open space often played tricks on the traveller’s mind and distorted his sense of perspective. Only the most experienced travelled alone in this barren land.
The group came onto some sparse grazing and Ali took the decision to stop for the night, although there were still a few hours before sunset.
‘The camels can feed on the fresh grass and they will get enough moisture to last till tomorrow. There is no water-well on the rest of the way to the camp,’ he said.
With Hayder’s help, he unloaded the bales of goods before hobbling the camels’ legs and setting th
em free on the grass. Meanwhile, Asif went out in search of firewood and soon he was pulling the roots of dead shrubs from the sand.
‘It is still too early to start making dinner. Let’s have some milk first,’ Ali said to his companions.
Ali went to fetch one of the camels who was in milk. As always, the travellers looked forward to drinking the fresh, warm frothy milk. With a slightly salty taste, camel milk was always preferred over goat milk since it was deliciously smooth and refreshing, as well as more nourishing. When Hayder first saw Ali milking his camel he had been stunned by the odd practice. Originally from the kingdom of Nubia, Ali had his own customary way of milking a camel. First, he used a small amount of water to clean the milk bowl and wash his hands.
‘Cleanliness is paramount, otherwise the milk could dry up in the udders,’ he explained.
Next Ali placed his two hands, palms down, on the camel’s vulva. Putting his lips on his hands, he blew air into the vagina.
‘This will boost the production of milk in its udders,’ he further clarified.
Seeing the horrified look on Hayder’s face, Ali grinned widely, his white teeth gleaming against his dark lips.
‘It should best be done an hour before to get the most milk,’ he added.
To encourage the camel, he stroked the udders gently while murmuring words of endearment in a strange dialect that the others did not recognise. The mammary glands could be seen visibly swelling in size.
‘Now she is ready to be milked,’ Ali said.
Standing next to the hobbled camel, he placed his right foot on his left knee, leaving him to stand on his left leg only. His right thigh formed a platform right under the udders upon which he balanced the milk bowl. When Hayder first saw him doing this, he had rushed over to assist.
‘Let me hold the bowl,’ he said, but Ali had waved him off with his usual smile.
With both hands, he worked the udders in quick succession until there was no milk left. Ali passed the bowl of warm, frothy milk to Asif, being the eldest of the three, who took a sip before passing it to Hayder. Hayder blew on the froth and took a sip of the thick, refreshing drink. After Ali had drunk, he passed the bowl back to Asif and this went on until the bowl was empty. Thus the milk was shared equally between the three companions. Not only did it quench their thirst, but the warm, nourishing liquid gave them a boost after a long and tiring day.
Soon the sun was close to the horizon.
‘I will get dinner started while there is still some light,’ Ali told his companions.
He measured three mugs of flour into the empty milk bowl, then after adding water he made dough for his flatbreads. Leaving the dough to rest, he lit up a fire with some of the dried roots Asif had gathered. He took out three copper mugs from his travel bag which he set at the three corners of the fire with the handles facing outwards. He next placed a large copper plate upside down over the fire, resting on the mugs. Dividing the dough into three equal balls, he shaped the first one into a flat circular disk between the palms of his hands, which he slammed on his improvised griddle.
‘Let me look after this one while you shape the others,’ Asif volunteered.
He took over turning the flatbread until it was cooked as Ali shaped the other balls of dough. Before long, the breads were done and ready to be eaten. Ali took out an earthen pot containing small balls of labneh in olive oil, flavoured with herbs. He spooned out a generous helping on each flatbread. The three companions enjoyed their simple meal in silence, slowly savouring each mouthful; they had not eaten since morning, save for some dried dates and water.
By the time they finished eating it was already dark and the north-westerly wind had picked up. With the disappearance of the sun, the temperature dropped rapidly. The travellers unrolled their blankets, which they wrapped around their shoulders. Ali poured water into the mugs and threw a piece of cinnamon stick and a cardamom pod in each mug. As the water started to boil, diffusing the aroma of spices around the campfire, he added some black tea leaves. After a few minutes, the strong spiced tea was ready. With no honey to sweeten it, they sipped their tea with a dried date in their mouth, holding the hot mug with the corner of their blankets. The hot tea warmed their cold and weary bones, for the temperature had plummeted considerably. After a while, Ali revived the fire with some more dried roots and added more water to the mugs as they huddled as close to the heat as possible.
Hayder and Asif exchanged glances, waiting for Ali to start talking about his family. Every one of Ali’s clients knew of the guide’s routine. After dinner, Ali would always talk of his lost family. Soon enough, Ali started talking about how he lost his entire family while sipping his tea. He described how the bubonic plague had taken his parents, his younger sister, his wife and his twin sons. Only Ali had been spared.
‘Brought in by a merchant ship, the port of Sawakin in the kingdom of Nubia was the first to be hit by the dreadful disease. I had just moved there with my family to work as a sailor on a dhow. I was dreaming of a better life for my family and instead I brought death upon them,’ he recounted, full of regret.
He went on to describe how singlehandedly he had buried the bodies one by one with no one willing to help for fear of catching the disease. Afterwards, he returned back to his job on the dhow, grief-stricken.
‘On that journey the dhow sailed across the Red Sea, taking goods to Jaddah. After docking and unloading the goods, I jumped off the ship never to return. I could not bear to go back to Sawakin as the memories were too painful,’ he said with a broken voice.
‘I went on pilgrimage to the Tomb of Eve and prayed for my family to be granted entrance to Jannah – heaven.’
‘Later, working as a camel tender for a caravaner for many long years, I managed to save enough to buy my first two camels. Having travelled forward and backward across the desert for so many years, I gained a deep knowledge of the land and started to offer my services as a guide,’ he explained.
‘Although I never went back home, every night in my sleep, my dreams take me back to my homeland,’ he said with tears in his eyes.
Hayder and Asif had heard the tragedy a few times before, but still they did not interrupt and instead indulged him. Not only it would have been rude, but they understood it was Ali’s way of keeping the memory of his family alive. He would tell his story over and over again to anyone who hired him. His travelling companions were his family.
‘He is all alone with no clan and no tribe. His copper plates, mugs and camels are his only possessions in the world and the desert, his home,’ Hayder thought, feeling a deep sadness for Ali.
The cold wind murmured gently on the dark dunes, penetrating through any small opening of their clothing. The three companions pulled their blankets tightly over their head to cover their faces, with only their eyes visible, reflecting the flickering flames. By the time the fire died out, the new moon had risen. With the black, velvety sky sparkling with countless stars, the landscape which stood familiar during the day now looked completely different. Tired from the long journey, the three companions rolled inside their blankets, hoping to get a good night’s rest, lulled by the murmuring of the wind and the snuffling of the camels. After a while, Hayder felt the need to attend to the call of nature one last time. He got up and as he excused himself and moved away from the group, Asif teased him.
‘Make sure that you don’t face the wind or you will be pissing on everybody,’ he called out.
Ali burst out laughing as he had heard the story about Hayder and how they used to tease him about urinating on the world.
‘Uncle, cut it out! It was a long time ago,’ Hayder replied good-naturedly, ‘I was only a young boy then.’
‘Cut it out? They did cut it out, didn’t they?’ Asif replied, referring to the famous circumcision episode.
Asif looked at Ali and both men roared with laughter.
Chapter 7
There was a festive atmosphere in the Juhayah camp. From early morning, the women had been
making cakes of dried dates and balls of labneh cheese from fermented camels’ milk. Others were busy preparing dough for flatbreads and soaking rice to make saffron and pomegranate rice for the evening feast. Two goats had been slaughtered and were hanging from wooden frames with a group of men preparing the meat. It was not every day that they could afford such luxury food – a stark contrast to their daily diet of bread and milk. It was indeed a special occasion.
‘I need the fleshy parts separately, as I intend to marinate these with a blend of spices. By tonight it should be tender and full of flavour, ready for grilling over the open fire,’ the head cook told the men.
‘I want the rest of the meat and bones in small pieces. These I will braise in a creamy sauce,’ he directed the butchers.
The younger children were running around, playing and screaming excitedly. It was not very often that they had a party and the adults were pleased to see them so excited. The older girls were squeezing lemons to make honey-sweetened sherbet which they would keep in earthen cooler pots for later. The boys had gone to collect wood and dried roots for the bonfire. Although busy, everyone had a wide smile on their faces... all except for the four boys sitting on a rug placed at the opening of a tent.
Hayder and the other three boys sat with sullen faces, watching the excitement and activities around them with apprehension. They had been bathed and dressed in clean, long white shirts and their hair had been oiled and combed. They were made to sit at the opening of the tent and were not allowed to run around with the other children.
‘You are our guests of honour,’ the adults told them as they fussed over them.
Every time one of the men passed in front of the tent, he turned and waved cheerfully, which made the four boys even more sullen. On the other hand, every time the older boys passed by, they jeered and made screams of pain, whilst holding the area of their shirts in front of their private parts with both hands.
