When the newspaperman left, Thula wept while describing to us the face of a raped woman she’d visited, how it was still swollen from the punches she’d received, her eyes still shut. Being raped was her worst fear, she confessed. “For the women’s sake,” she cried, “please, stop it. For the sake of your wives and daughters, I beg you to end it.”
We’d had the talk among ourselves already—for whom were we killing if our actions left our children motherless, our sisters childless, our parents daughterless? We hated our enemies even more for taking away from us this chance at blood reparations, but we knew we had to pause. We vowed to resume with new and better tactics.
* * *
—
As if the Spirit was in agreement with our cease-fire, no one died in Kosawa in the next six months, so our regret at laying down our arms was abated. Whatever rift had developed between Thula and us as a result of the killings began to narrow. Whereas in the days of the killings she seemed afraid to look into our eyes, now she hugged us, and commended us on jobs well done, as if we were wayward sons who had returned home.
It must have been around the seven-year anniversary of her return home that she announced to us that she had selected the date for Liberation Day. When we told her that the date was only three months away, too soon, she told us that it was fine, we would have to proceed with however many people had thus far heeded our message. We did not think this to be a prudent move, and we cautioned her against it—if we were to start a movement with a scanty rally, we would become objects of ridicule. We needed more time; an explosive revolution could not be ignited with a feeble spark. Also, in the aftermath of the killings, the soldiers were not wont to show mercy. Did she want to provoke them at a time when they were eager to use their guns? There would be no guns, she said. She’d used her position at the school and her privileges as a top government worker to get a letter from the presidential palace giving her permission to rally young people in Lokunja to celebrate the country. The district office would have a copy of the letter; any soldiers at the rally would be there for our protection. We could have laughed at the irony—soldiers ordered to protect us—but we didn’t, concerned still, as we were, about the turnout, about whether she was ready to address a crowd and tell them to get ready for a revolution. And what would the government do when they learned of her true motives?
We believed Liberation Day needed another year or two of preparation. It had become wholly evident to us that, deep as hatred for His Excellency ran, desperate as many were for change, few, if any, would join a movement led by a woman, worse still an unmarried, childless woman. We couldn’t ask people to look past her lack of a family. We couldn’t tell them that it meant nothing—it meant everything. It meant her deficiencies were many, too many for a man to take on. We hoped that, with time, she’d find a husband, someone with whom she’d have a child so that she could become a real woman, because nothing could make her respectable besides motherhood and marriage.
We couldn’t hurt her by telling her this, nor could we tell her that we were having enough of a struggle explaining why we were followers of a woman—we’d already come to terms with the mockery—but neither could we let the resistance fail because our leader was determined to remain unfathomable. Still, after listening to her argue that we couldn’t keep waiting for the perfect moment, it might never come, we agreed to her date after consulting with the twins, Bamako and Cotonou.
Though they were still boys, the twins were already in possession of skills almost as good as those of Jakani and Sakani, and we knew we couldn’t proceed with Thula’s plan without going to them to seek the Spirit’s favor.
After we made a payment of smoked bushmeat to them, they agreed to intercede on our behalf. Days later, they came to us with the message that the Spirit was in agreement with the date Thula had selected for Liberation Day. The Spirit had also instructed them on the ritual they would need to do to prepare Thula.
* * *
—
On Thula’s subsequent visits to Kosawa, we started putting together the groundwork for Liberation Day. Now that our belief in the movement had been renewed, thanks to the hope given to us by the Spirit’s approval, our enthusiasm grew as the day neared. The elation that carried us through those weeks enlivened all of Kosawa. Without our asking, our families began disseminating the news across the other villages. Old and young alike were talking about Liberation Day, counting down to it, to the day when the light we’d long been dreaming of would begin emerging. Word spread to towns and villages in the surrounding districts. We busied ourselves thinking of the speeches we would each make, organizing our children into a choir for entertainment, persuading friends to bring their drums so that, after Thula had declared a new day, we would all dance till the stars came out and the crickets joined our chorus and we had nothing left with which to rejoice.