The River Between

by Ngũgĩ Wa Thiong'o

  What else could Nyambura do? She tried again to remonstrate with her sister, without any result. In her heart, she knew that once Muthoni had resolved on something it was difficult to make her change her mind. She had inherited this stubborn spirit from Joshua, a man who, once he made up his mind, was hard to deflect from his set purpose.

  Honia river flowed on. The insects went on with their incessant sound mingling with the fall of the river. The whole scene became fearful to Nyambura and she no longer felt excited. Even the warmth of the morning sun did not awaken her. She loved her sister and now was troubled because she did not know what would happen.

  They took their tin water-barrels and began the slow ascent of the ridge back to their home in Makuyu. Suddenly Nyambura heard a slight groan from her sister. She quickly turned round; a look of dismay was on Muthoni’s face; her water-barrel was rolling down the slope back to the river.

  Nyambura and Muthoni had to go down again. “A bad omen,” Nyambura thought.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The women and men of Makuyu were already up and about their morning chores by the time the two girls, with their water-barrels weighing heavily on their backs, reached home. All along the ridge, thick blue smoke was curling upward, issuing from the scattered, mud-walled huts that made up the village. Some women, apparently not early risers, were just now going to the river to fetch water, while here and there, cattle and goats, with small boys trotting after them, trailed in all directions.

  There was a general uniformity between all the houses that lay scattered over this ridge. They consisted of round thatched huts standing in groups of three or four. A natural hedge surrounded each household. Joshua’s house was different. His was a tin-roofed rectangular building standing quite distinctly by itself on the ridge. The tin roof was already decaying and let in rain freely, so on top of the roof could be seen little scraps of sacking that covered the very bad parts. The building, standing so distinctly and defiantly, was perhaps an indication that the old isolation of Makuyu from the rest of the world was being broken down.

  As yet, it was true, no town was near. Nairobi was far, a town not known to the hills. Siriana was still the nearest missionary center: a big place with hospitals and a flourishing school taking boys and girls from all over the country. But the missionaries had not as yet penetrated into the hills, though they sent a number of disciples to work there. The people remained conservative, loyal to the ways of the land. Livingstone occasionally paid a visit to the hills, giving new life and energy to his various followers. His main work, however, was being carried on by Joshua.

  Joshua, Nyambura’s father, was now a middle-aged man who always preached in sharp ringing tones that spoke of power and knowledge. He, along with a few others, had been the first to be converted to the new faith. He was then a young man who ran from the hills and went to live with the white man in the newly established Mission. He feared the revenge of the hills; the anger of his friends, betrayed. In Siriana he found a sanctuary and the white man’s power and magic. He learned to read and write. The new faith worked in him till it came to possess him wholly. He renounced his tribe’s magic, power and ritual. He turned to and felt the deep presence of the one God. Had he not given the white man power over all? He learned of Jesus—

  Behold, a virgin shall conceive,

  And bear a son,

  And shall call his name Immanuel.

  He realized the ignorance of his people. He felt the depth of the darkness in which they lived. He saw the muddy water through which they waded unaware of the dirt and mud. His people worshipped Murungu, Mwenenyaga, Ngai. The unerring white man had called the Gikuyu god the prince of darkness.

  Isaiah, the white man’s seer, had prophesied of Jesus. He had told of the coming of a messiah. Had Mugo wa Kibiro, the Gikuyu seer, ever foretold of such a savior? No. Isaiah was great. He had told of Jesus, the savior of the world.

  Those who refuse him are the children of darkness;

  These, sons and daughters of the evil one, will go to Hell;

  They will burn and burn forever more, world unending.

  These strong words frightened Joshua and shook his whole body; shook him to the very roots of his being. He became baptized and it was only then that he felt at peace and stopped trembling.

  He felt happiness which cut sharp into him, inflaming his soul. He had escaped Hell. He felt a new creature. That is always what he said at home and in church.

  If anybody is in Christ, behold, he is a new creature.

  He was washed new. He became a preacher, brave, having been freed from fear. He no longer feared Chege or what the hills and their inhabitants would say or do to him. He went back to Makuyu and preached with a vehemence and fury that frightened even his own old listeners. Few could resist that voice. Many came and some were converted. And they all together rejoiced and praised God.

  But some went back to drinking; to dancing the tribal ritual; to circumcision. And Joshua day by day grew in wrath and vehemently condemned such behavior. Perhaps the word had not taken root. Joshua himself was strict and observed the word to the letter. Religious uniformity in his own home was binding. He meant to be an example to all, a bright light that would show the way, a rock on which the weak would step on their way to Christ.

  Joshua was sitting outside his house when the two girls came and put their water-barrels down. He looked at them, at the way they were working, the way they kept together, and felt a father’s pride. His house had a strong Christian foundation and he wanted his daughters to wax strong in faith and the ways of God. Would this not prove to all what a Christian home should be like?

  • • •

  The year was unusual. The seasons were rich. Maize and beans were gathered and put aside against the uncertainties of the future. People were happy and there was much rejoicing everywhere. The group of Christians in Makuyu came together and gave prayers to God.

  The elders of Kameno, and all over the country of sleeping lions, collected and gave sacrifice to Murungu under the sacred tree. All this was a prelude to many such rites which would be performed, not only by Joshua’s followers in preparation for Christmas, but also by the others ready for initiation ceremonies. Joshua was against such initiation rites, especially the female circumcision, which was taking on a new significance in the relationship between Makuyu and Kameno.

  To Joshua, indulging in this ceremony was the unforgivable sin. Had he not been told to take up everything and leave Egypt? He would journey courageously, a Christian soldier, going on to the promised land. Nobody would deflect him from his set purpose. He wanted to enter the new Jerusalem a whole man.

  In fact, Joshua believed circumcision to be so sinful that he devoted a prayer to asking God to forgive him for marrying a woman who had been circumcised.

  God, you know it was not my fault. God, I could not do otherwise, and she did this while she was in Egypt.

  Sometimes, when alone with Miriamu, his wife, he would look at her and sadly remark, “I wish you had not gone through this rite.”

  Not that Miriamu shared or cherished these sentiments. But she knew him. Joshua was such a staunch man of God and such a firm believer in the Old Testament, that he would never refrain from punishing a sin, even if this meant beating his wife. He did not mind as long as he was executing God’s justice.

  • • •

  For the whole of that year things had not gone well with Joshua. People at Kameno were becoming restless and believed that it was Joshua who was responsible for the white men who these days often came to the hills. There were rumors that a Government Post would soon be built at Makuyu and that the hills would be ruled from there. In his last visit, one of the white men had announced that people in these regions would begin paying taxes to a government in Nairobi. People shrugged their shoulders, not knowing what a tax was. Nevertheless, they blamed Joshua for this interference.

 
Joshua did not mind this. He himself knew what a government was, having learned about this from Livingstone. He knew it was his duty as a Christian to obey the Government, giving unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s and to God the things that are God’s. That was what he wanted every Christian to do. And was the white man not his brother? Was the white man responsible for the ills of the land? No! It was the blindness of the people. People would not walk in the light. Look now at the preparations and rituals going on all over the land. Look at the sinners moving deeper and deeper into the dirty mud of sin. Moments of great anger sometimes came to Joshua. And then he would remember that he had to be patient. Prayers would soon work a miracle on the ridges. And so Joshua went on his knees. He prayed that the people should leave their ways and follow the ways of the white man.

  After a prayer he would feel reassured and a calmness would settle on his face. He waited for something to happen any day but knew that he had to be patient. He sang praise. But,

  O, God, look at their preparations,

  O, God, why don’t you descend on this wicked generation and finish their evil ways? Circumcision is coming.

  Fight by me, Oh Lord.

  He felt like going out with a stick, punishing these people, forcing them on to their knees. Was this not what was done to those children of Israel who turned away from God, who would not hearken to his voice?

  Bring down fire and thunder,

  Bring down the flood.

  Nothing happened. Preparations for initiations went on, while Joshua and his followers prepared for the birth of a savior.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Sunday was always a busy day for Joshua. He conducted a long service, though Kabonyi sometimes helped him. But Kabonyi was a much less compelling preacher than Joshua, who seemed to preach with a conviction arising from deep down in the heart. Prayer and singing followed, after the service was over and still more meetings in the ridges; sometimes Joshua had to make journeys into the country, from ridge to ridge.

  One Sunday he conducted a particularly long service. When it was over he felt exhausted. Only the week before he had been to Siriana with Kabonyi to discuss the recent developments. Siriana was far off and they had made the journey on foot. Now he felt so worn out, especially after his sermon, that he did not wait for the usual prayers and singing outside the small Makuyu church. He found his wife Miriamu and went home with her.

  Nyambura, who never waited for the singing outside, was a few yards ahead. Muthoni was not there.

  They came home. She was not there either. There was nothing unusual in this: Muthoni often remained behind chatting with villagers. Nyambura, however, knew that today she had not left Muthoni behind and she was surprised when she did not find her at home.

  In the evening, Muthoni did not appear. Nyambura’s heart beat fast. She became restless and walked about in front of the house, trying to sing but really watching for Muthoni. When she went back inside, her heart sank when she saw the calm face of her mother. Joshua was resting in bed. Nyambura was worried at heart and dreaded the moment when Joshua would ask for Muthoni. Joshua did not allow his children out late. He was now more strict because initiation songs were going on. He would not want his children to be contaminated by them. It was perhaps lucky that he had gone to bed earlier than usual.

  “I wonder where Muthoni is?” Miriamu asked, slightly puzzled. She was a peace-loving woman and she never liked unnecessary tension in the house. Her injunction to her children was always: “Obey your father.” She did not say it harshly or with bitterness. It was an expression of faith, of belief, of a way of life. “Your father says this—” and she expected his children to do that, without fuss, without resentment. She had learned the value of Christian submission, and she thought every other believer had the same attitude to life. Not that she questioned life. It had given her a man and in her own way she loved and cared for him. Her faith and belief in God were coupled with her fear of Joshua. But that was religion and it was the way things were ordered. However, one could still tell by her eyes that this was a religion learned and accepted; inside the true Gikuyu woman was sleeping.

  Nyambura kept quiet. She did not know what to say. Before she could make up a suitable answer her father called out for Muthoni. He always called for Muthoni when he wanted something. Nyambura and Miriamu looked at one another as if they had just discovered Muthoni was missing. Nyambura then jumped up as if going to look for Muthoni. But she only wanted to be away from her father’s fury. Muthoni had not told Nyambura that she would go. She had just slipped away from the church. Nyambura, however, had not forgotten that morning scene at the river, even though it was a number of months back.

  When she came back into the house, she found Joshua standing near Miriamu, glaring hard at her.

  “I tell you again. You know where your daughter is. Go! Go out and look for her.”

  Night was coming. Nyambura stood at the door, cowering there. The pot on three stones was boiling over. Miriamu went out. This is what it meant to be a mother. It meant bearing on one’s shoulders all the sins and misdeeds of the children. She went about, looking in all the huts where Muthoni was likely to be. She did not find her. She came back and found Nyambura had removed the pot from the fire. Joshua and Nyambura had not exchanged a word. Joshua had not bothered to ask Nyambura of her sister’s whereabouts. Perhaps his anger had blinded him.

  He flew at Miriamu: “Did you find her?” Miriamu said nothing.

  “Go back and find her. She cannot sleep out.”

  Miriamu hesitated. Where was she to go? She felt that Joshua was being unreasonable but she did not know how to tell him, not being given to arguments. For the moment Nyambura experienced the torture of a soul torn between two loyalties with fear in front. Should she let out Muthoni’s secret? What if Muthoni returned?

  “But—but—” Miriamu was stammering. Nyambura could bear it no longer. She had tried her best to keep her unspoken promise to Muthoni.

  “Perhaps she has gone to my aunt,” she timidly suggested. Better she had kept silent. Joshua almost jumped at her.

  “What! Your aunt? To what? Tell me at once!”

  Nyambura cowered under his outburst. But she showed hesitation and she kept off the moment of revelation by saying:

  “I think she has gone to my aunt at Kameno.”

  “To do what?”

  There was no help for it. She looked at the door, ready to run out as she gathered her courage to say the one ominous word—

  “Circumcision.”

  “What!”

  “To be circumcised.”

  Before she could run out Joshua was on her. He glared at her, shaking her all the time. He was almost mad and small foams of saliva could be seen at the sides of his mouth.

  “How do you know? Who told you?”

  Nyambura was beside herself with terror. She thought that he would beat her. All of a sudden, Joshua released her. He let out a very small sigh. Nyambura detected in it pain and torment. She felt pity for him. Slowly he went back to the fireplace and sank down on a stool. He looked like a beast of prey experiencing defeat and humiliation for the first time. He realized that he was growing old. Then, in a measured, lifeless voice, he said:

  “For once, I give you permission to go to Kameno. Go to that woman you call aunt. Tell Muthoni to come back. If she agrees we shall forget everything. If she does not, then tell her that she ceases to be my daughter.” He went back to bed.

  Silence fell in the house after Joshua had announced this. Miriamu did not speak. She too had been shocked into silence by Muthoni’s action which seemed to have no explanation and to stem from no motivation. She loved Muthoni and she did not want to lose her. She knew Joshua meant what he said. Tears began to run down her face. As they fell they shone, lit by the dying embers in the fire. Sometimes the fire would flicker, creating distorted shadows across the mud walls. The formle
ss shadows moved and wavered in a mocking manner.

  • • •

  On the following day Nyambura brought the sad news that Muthoni had refused to return home.

  Joshua sat still as he listened to this. Already he felt ashamed for being caught last night by the devil, unawares. He had now prayed, asking for strength never to be caught again in slumber. But this news was hard for him: for a man who had walked in the paths of righteousness. He remembered Job and thanked God.

  From that day Muthoni ceased to exist for him, in his heart. She had brought an everlasting disgrace to him and his house, which he had meant to be an example of what a Christian home should grow into.

  All right. Let her go back to Egypt. Yes. Let her go back. He, Joshua, would travel, on, on to the new Jerusalem.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Harvests came and went. They had been good; people rejoiced. Such rich harvests had not been seen for years. Old men sighed with inner fear as they witnessed the hubbub of excitement, throbbing through the ridges, making things tremble. Had they not seen such happenings before in their days of youth?

  The elders, then, offered many burned sacrifices to Murungu. Who did not know what such unusual harvests portended? Who could not remember the great famine that had swept through the hills, spreading its fingers of smoke to all the land of the Gikuyu? That was before the real advent of the white men. Most of the old men had then been young. But they had never forgotten the great wealth and harvests that preceded the famine.

  Chege could remember it well. He and many others thought that famine could never come any more. But it had followed in the wake of their thoughts. Chege, together with his newly-married brides and a few others, had left the hills along a secret path. His two wives did not survive the disaster. Chege was still young. He soon found himself another bride and came back to the hills. He came back to tell the people of the white man. But they would not listen. Even when the white man came to Siriana, people would not hearken to Chege’s word. When Kabonyi and Joshua were converted, he broke off their former relationship. These Christians would not come to any good, he always said. He saw more than any other could see. These followers of Joshua would bring so many divisions to the land that the tribe would die.