The Farewell
by Malidoma Patrice Some
The stirring of the baobab tree called me from my sleep. Even though it was not close by, it sounded as if it were. There seemed to be a strange ether in the air. Even though I was only five years old, I knew that something was amiss. Something was different. As I sleepily sauntered from Father's house, I noticed Guisso sitting close to the door. He spoke to me. "This will be a special day, Malidoma." Guisso never spoke to me. He would be most friendly to me, he would always look at me as if we were silent friends, he would even walk with me and Grandfather at times, but he never spoke to me."Guisso? Why are you here? What is happening?" The curiosity was stirring me from my sleepiness.
"You are to go to your grandfather's quarters, Malidoma. You are to speak with your brother." My brother? How did Guisso know that Grandfather was my brother?
"Where is my father? Father usually made sure that I was taken care of before I would begin my day with Grandfather.
"Your father is not here. He has gone to see the white pries on the hill."
"Why, Guisso?"
"It is not important right now. Go see your Grandfather." A comforting smile softened his somber face. Grandfather had never allowed me to go into his quarters. Never. What was so special about now?
"Come in, Malidoma," came the weak voice of Grandfather as I kept tapping on his hut. Not knowing what to expect, I stuck just my head in to see this place of mystery. I could see nothing in the darkness. It was as if Grandfather were living inside a bottomless pit. So I decided to follow the sound of his voice.
As I stood in the blackness wondering what I was doing here, I could smell the many odors of herbs and potions and roots. As my eyes gradually adjusted to the lack of light, I could see many gourds hanging from the ceiling. There seemed to be a small hole in the top of the dome to which all the containers seemed to be tied or connected. It looked like a road map made of rope that led to all the medicines.
"Come here, Malidoma," came Grandfather's voice once again. I could not see where he was. So once again I moved to where I thought the voice was coming from. I stumbled on a rise of dirt and fell into a pile of humanity. It was Grandfather, lying on his bed of mud with a sand pillow beneath his head. "You have not been here before, have you?"
"No, Grandfather, you would not allow me in here." I could now make out his eyes as they stared straight up to the ceiling. His breathing was brief but calm.
"That is because you were not to see what you now see until you were initiated or until I was to travel to the Otherworld. There are things that I wish to tell you. Sit closely to me."
I scooted as close as I could without taking more space away from an already sparse bed of hardened mud. It was a while until he spoke again. "You are Malidoma, 'be friend with the enemy.' You are of the house of Birifor, we who are priests with the Otherworld." I was not prepared for what Grandfather had to tell me. I held his hand tightly as he talked on and on about the family history, about the courageous war against the white man. How the upside-down arrow hit its mark at night, killing the enemy without a blow. How the white man's machines won the battles by day, but the Dagara won the battles by night, when the arrows of the Otherworld were delivered. He told how the war ended when one of the white priests was seen giving aid to the women of the village who had been hidden from the zone of battle. He spoke with great sadness as he described how Dagara law forbade hurting anyone unless they were trying to hurt you. It was not the white man's weapons of destruction that defeated the Dagara. It was his kindness, or so it seemed – the kindness of one man.
"Malidoma, the time will come when you will be only part Dagara. You will learn the white man's ways. There will be many trials for you. Be strong. Know that you are Birifor." I jumped as I felt another hand touch my shoulder. It was Guisso. "Brother, you will be taken from your people and will one day return. After you have learned the secrets of Birifor you will then surrender once more to the milky ones. You will walk with men who live in trees that reach to the sky. You will speak to their hearts and you will learn their secrets. You will be the bridge across the great sea between our people and their people."
Grandfather reached out to grasp Guisso's hand and put it in mine. "Guisso, take care of your grandson." I could tell that Grandfather was looking at me. "Malidoma, listen and watch your brother." Grandfather simply folded his hands on top of his chest and breathed no more. The air seemed to stir with feeling. The gourds hanging from the ceiling began to sway to and fro, then violently they began to create a clatter as if applauding the great boburo, shaman-priest of the Birifor. They continued their applause as Guisso pulled me from the room. The brightness of the sun blinded me as Guisso led me to the center of the compound. He sat on the ground with eyes closed, holding me close to him. Though no grief was shown, he was deeply moved. This would be the eventual resting place of the great boburo, my brother, Grandfather.
"Is Grandfather dead, Guisso?"
"No, Brother Malidoma. He lives on in me."
Copyright © 1993 by Swan Raven & Company
From Ritual: Power, Healing, and Community by Malidoma Patrice Some (New York: Penguin Arkana, 1997). Used by arrangement with Penguin Putnam Publishers, Inc.
