Once upon a time, there was a small village where people spoke a language called Tshokwe. It was a quaint little place nestled in the depth of the southern parts of Congo. The village was ruled by the Chief Mwata, whose role was to dispense justice to the people and resolve disputes. He was a strong, handsome man of about thirty-five years old. He was greatly respected both as being the wisest and the strongest man of the village. As a Chief, it was also told that he was the custodian of the Tshokwe customs, task he shared with the witch doctor called Kifwebe. And as so, he was said to communicate daily with the ancestors. From them, he received guidance on how to lead his people.
He had three wives; Nyota, his first, the woman of his tender youth as he called her, as they had met in their childhood and were almost the same age. She was strikingly beautiful, with her shapely body and nice smile. She had a squeaky little voice, which grew sharper when she was nagging. Together they had one child, Thanda, a young man of about 20 years. He was being trained to be the next chief, and he was almost as strong and handsome as his father. Mwata was very proud of him and often bragged of his prowess during hunting parties. Wildly exaggerated rumours circulated on his account, according to which he had killed a lion with his bare hands, and both Thanda and his father did nothing to deny the claims. Unfortunately, Nyota had not borne any more children, to her great shame. She herself had then advised Mwata to take a second wife. Secretly pleased, Mwata set out to the neighbouring village. He loved his wife, but a chief like him needed several male children to secure his succession; besides, having many children demonstrated a man's, and especially a chief's, strength.
After ten days, Mwata returned accompanied by a splendid, very dark skinned woman; she was tall, sculptural, blessed with a small waist and large hips specially designed to bear children, extended by long and strong legs built to walk to and from the plantation fields. She had a perfectly oval face, and the most interesting facial features: big eyes, large nose and beautiful lips. She displayed the distinctive beauty marks of those days: 3 incisions, one on her forehead between her two eyes, as well as on each cheek. She wore a beautiful knee length raffia dress tied around her chest, and the dress did little to cover her magnificent body. She did not look like a shy woman, on the contrary she wore a confident smile as she stared back at the villagers. She walked one foot behind the Chief towards the centre of the village, where all the dignitaries, around 10 of them, waited seated on high backed chairs in a semi circle. When she drew level, she knelt down before the dignitaries. She was pleased to be here. She had visited this village before, when she was a little girl, which was not long ago. But she didn't mind being married off in her tender years to her older cousin Mwata; she was now considered a woman since her period started, and it was time for her to prove that she could be a strong woman and a good, hospitable wife. She didn't mind being the second wife either, she had met Nyota before and she liked her.
After introducing Esta to the whole village, Mwata took her home, to the hut that had been built for her. It was squared shaped, with a thatched roof. Inside, it was wide, clean and bare, apart from a low raised wooden bed standing on four legs, covered by a mattress made of fresh leaves and raffia stuffed in a bigger raffia bag.
Nyota liked her co-wife. She already knew her and couldn't recommend a better wife for her husband. She did not feel threatened by her beauty. She herself was not ugly at all, and the whole village still admiringly talked of her stunning hips. But the main reason she felt so comfortable having Esta around was because she knew her, and she believed she knew her heart. Esta was a decent woman, gentle, very respectful and hospitable. Although she was almost the age as her first son, she already treated him as her own, feeding and serving him when she was not around. She liked Esta a lot.
The two wives lived with their husband in relative felicity for a while; after six months of marriage, everybody could notice that Esta was expecting a baby. Everybody was happy, and Nyota more than anyone else in the village. "Her hips did not lie indeed", the women sang in the village. Esta herself, despite her usual, paraded in the village like a peahen. Miraculously, it was noted that Nyota, the first wife, was also pregnant. The village exploded, and Nyota almost burst with joy.
"You see!!" she exclaimed in front of a bunch of women, "I told you that Esta brought me the blessings of our ancestors! Oh, I love this sister of mine!" she added, embracing tightly Esta and pressing her cheek against hers.
Esta gave birth to twins, and Nyota had a little girl. Everything seemed to be fine, when one afternoon Mwata showed up with a strikingly beautiful woman shyly hiding behind his large frame. The villagers stared at each other, confused. The women, except Esta and Nyota, exchanged ironic smiles. Nyota especially coldly glared at the new woman. She had an excellent reason to be outraged, because Mwata had brought a third wife. And this new wife, Nyota knew her very well: it was Jaki, her own niece!
This little group of Tshokwes lived in the valley in which flowed a little river called Kafwankumba. They were not less than 500. They had built neat and thatched little huts next to the Kafwankumba river. They used its water to wash their bodies, their pots and for other domestic purposes. For drinking, they collected clean, fresh water from a source situated at the bottom of the Manga hill. All around the village grew a luxurious forest, which provided the village with game, fruits, vegetables and fruits. While the men hunted, the women ploughed the soil. Each family had been attributed a patch of land on which they grew cassava, sweet potatoes, maize, and all sorts of other tubers, grains and vegetables. Peace reigned, food was abundant, and life was good. Even the weather seemed to be on their side. Because of this village being the tropics, the rainy season wasn't too hot, and the dry season wasn't very cold. Therefore people could walk around with very little clothing almost all year round.
It seemed the arrival of Esta had woken up Nyota's womb. All three wives fell pregnant and gave birth every two years or so, and before long Mwata had abundant descendants. He was a good father, and a good chief. He worked as hard as any other man in the village; his wives were productive, and his children mischievous and happy. But drama was brewing from within his family.
Jaki, the third wife, was deeply disliked by the first wife, her aunt. Esta, the second, tried to preserve her neutrality, but it was difficult to do so, for Nyota wanted her on her side.
To be continued…