When you travel through Kibaya, the town where we are living, you are sure to see some Maasai. Kibaya is at the southernmost end of the Maasai Steppe which extends northward all the way into Kenya.
It’s easy to identify the Maasai as they are the most colourful tribe in the area. They wrap themselves in plaid shawls and blankets. Their sandals are made from motorcycle tires. The men, who are usually over six feet tall, carry four foot polished sticks, about an inch in diameter and sheathed machetes. Their hair is often braided in elaborate styles. Both men and women can wear elaborate jewellery.
The Maasai are pastoral nomads who herd goats and sheep but their lives are based mostly on their cattle. Cattle provide the bulk of their living. They eat beef, blood and milk almost exclusively although when we visited a family boma (home) on Saturday we ate mashed pumpkin but that is only because milk is scarce during the dry season.
Kissiyogi (apologies for the almost certain misspelling), our Maasai friend, met us just after breakfast. His plan was to take us to his village in the morning and then to another village in the afternoon so that we could see an elaborate Maasai ceremony. Although Kissiyogi speaks English, much of the conversation with his family was translated by another volunteer who speaks fluent Swahili,
Kissiyogi’s village is in a small clearing in the bush. There are two houses and a pen for cattle made from thorn bushes. The houses have a frame made from sticks. The frame is covered with mud mixed with cattle dung and water. The mud and cattle dung dries to cement like finish which is painted with designs. It doesn’t smell like manure.
Inside the houses are extremely dark. When we went in I stumbled over pots that were scattered on the floor next to a cold fire pit and almost fell onto a sleeping platform made from layers of small twigs. I am not certain how I would have handled the situation had I smashed a Maasai bed into splinters.
Light enters the house through two six inch openings in the wall and a small slit near the roof line. .
The whole experience of being inside the house was very disorienting and confusing. It was hard for me to understand how the smoke from the fire would exit the house as the fire pit had no chimney. I was told that when the cooking fire is going, smoke exits through these same tiny holes and the house gets very smoky. All I could think to do was nod my head.
I had to bend over to walk inside the house and I am shorter than the average Maasai. I wanted to ask why they didn’t make their houses taller so that they could walk upright in them. But I didn’t as there is just so much I don’t understand. I had no idea of where to begin.
Outside, sitting on small wooden stools we drank metal mugs of sweet tea made mostly from milk. I could taste the smoke from the cooking fire in the tea. We also ate mashed pumpkin from a communal metal pot which sat on the ground. We were each given our own spoon.
The Maasai are polygamous. Kissiyogi’s father has two wives and thirteen children. Kissiyogi is still unmarried. He has only twenty cows as he has sold some of them to pay for his four younger siblings’ school fees. I suspect that the lack of cattle is keeping him single.
According to what I was able to understand, when a man marries he provides his wife with a house and gives her ten cows. Her responsibility is to increase her herd and as such, the family’s wealth. When a male child is born he is given a cow for each birthday. These cattle become his money in the bank so to speak. When they are old enough the children begin to look after the cattle.
Kissiyogi told me that it would be good for me to get a younger second wife to provide me with a few more children. ‘Having young children around all the time makes you feel happy’ he said. The Maasai find it difficult to understand how we can be happy without young children around. Looking over at Kissiyogi’s father, I had to admit he had a point.
We also talked about economic issues. The Kibaya Maasai have been making agreements with Arab traders in Dodoma for the sale of their cattle. The Maasai rent a truck and transport the cattle to Dodoma. When they arrive the Arabs break the agreement and lower the price. After having paid the rental on the truck and made the five hour trip to Dodoma the Maasai have little choice but to accept the lower price.
When we were discussing these issues I was wishing that there were a few Tatamagouche farmers with us. They might have offered some concrete suggestions.
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