mana

The Taboo

MANA is a vehicle for Pacific Islands’ writers and artists to publish their work. It is an organ of the South Pacific Creative Arts Society and its editorial committee comprises writers from many islands.

Material for publication must be sent direct to MANA’s editor, Marjorie Crocombe, South Pacific Creative Arts Society, Box 5083, Suva.

Occupying most of the space in this month’s MANA is the story The Taboo by Akinisi Sobusobu, first prizewinner in the short story competition held late last year by the Fiji Association of English Teachers.

Akinisi is a student at Labasa College. Other prizewinning stories will appear later. Another striking offering this month is New creations from the Sepik, compiled by Helen Dennett, a teacher at Angoram in the Sepik. Poems are by Ruperake Petaia, of Western Samoa, Mildred Sope and Albert Leomala, all regular contributors.

By Akanisi Sobusobu

THE glowing ember at the far corner faintly illuminated the house, revealing the dark outlines of his cousins’ bodies. They were stretched on a straw mat a few feet away from where he was lying. His uncle, the farthest from where he lay, rested his head on a smooth cylinder-like wood. He had always wondered how one can sleep peacefully on a hard wood. Perhaps his cousin was right when he said that an old man’s head can grow to be as hard as a coconut. That is probably why old men do not feel any pain when they lie on a hard wood.

He looked outside at the sky which showed a pale pink glow at the horizon. The entire village was still asleep and the silence it carried was unbearable to him. He loathed silence when he was awake. Very careful not to disturb his uncle and cousins he ran to the kitchen for his spear.

Like their sleeping bure, the kitchen was thatched with woven palm fronds and reeds. Inside the kitchen, there was a fireplace. It was directly opposite the door. It consisted of three rocks arranged in a triangular shape on the hard, mud floor.

Their kitchen was different from all the kitchens in the village, for all the others had their cooking fireplace in their sleeping huts. His uncle had said that the more fireplaces one had around one’s compound the better it was. This could keep the evil spirits away. So that was why they had a separate house for a kitchen.

He fumbled around the walls of the kitchen for his spear but failed to locate it. He ran outside and felt for its handle on top of the low roof of the kitchen. It was thrust in the decaying thatch of the roof. Happily he scurried towards the beach, en joying the cool fresh breeze brushing his face.

The tide was out and the brown sea weeds looked like a mess of dead leaves evenly spread on a forest floor. Small white crabs rushed into their holes when he came close to them. He tried to catch one but the crab quickly vanished into its hole.

Angrily, he filled the hole up with sand, IJE suddenly drew himself straight -ll as fear enveloped him and ran back as fast as he could to their hut.

He was thankful it was still dark and the whole village was still asleep, He had almost forgotten the taboo *eir village had imposed, After the death of their chief, the people were not allowed to fish in the lagoons for four moons. At the end of the taboo period the people of the village were to go and fish on the reef which would be followed by a great feast in the evening. This was strictly followed and nobody dared to break it.

“Manasa, why have you got that spear in your hand? Did you go out fishing?” his uncle’s voice cut out the tranquility of the morning. Ma nasa gazed at the spear in his hand and cursed himself for not replacing it immediately after his arrival. In an instant his uncle was in front of

him pulling his left ear lobe furi ously. When his uncle pulled his left ear lobe it suggested that he was very angry. His cousins came out to investigate their father’s early

morning anger.

“I did not . . .” Manasa tried to protest but his uncle cut him short.

“Liar! You have broken the taboo and you will be punished for it. No □ne has ever dared to break it but you have. Show me the fish you have speared”, roared his uncle.

I did not spear any”, Manasa re

plied truthfully.

“You have brought great shame jpon the family and you’ll be punished by Setareki. I’ll go and call um right now”. was the bati or warrior of the village. He was a strong nuscular man with heavy eyebrows.

Te always wore a stern face which nade him a stern and fearful man. fhere was no need to go to Setareki’s lome for he was already there among he crowd who were eager to know he cause of the commotion.

“He has broken the taboo” Ma lasa’s uncle told Setareki. A deep nurmur went through the crowd , cn they heard this. Silence sud lenly fell among them and many t'ere starting to feel very uneasy ot because of the warrior and the ig crowd around him but because f the silence.

The sun was already casting thin 3ng shadows to the ground. Then uddenly Setareki stepped out and rabbing Manasa’s left shoulder he

tiook it violently.

“Leave me alone, I haven’t done nything that deserves punishment” lanasa protested to the warrior. ’

Get me a big stick, someone!”

Three or four boys pushed irough the crowd to find a stick lanasa was then taken to the arnor s hut where he was severely eaten. J Go and apologise to your uncle nd „ to all the old men of the vill ?e , ordered the warrior. Manasa id as he was told.

For a week, the people of Sici Iked persistently about the incident which Manasa was involved, arents were very careful not to let icir children play with Manasa.

'omen gossiped about bad orphans no lacked good manners. years before, when Manasa was a boy of six, his father was lied in a tribal war against the atumabu tribe. He remembered his irents and the day his mother re

ceived the tragic news of his father’s death. His mother, a very thin woman collected her husband’s spears, stone axe, clubs and ten mats and tapa cloth, Manasa was an only child and for this their family was regarded as the unluckiest family in the village. His mother could not bear any more children. The witch doctor said that his mother had done something which had agitated their ancestors.

As he watched his mother collect his father’s weapons and her mats, Manasa was happy but was surprised to see his mother’s stern face. He asked if she did not like the soqo or social gathering they were ready to go to. His mother then cried bit terly without Manasa knowing why.

People made their way to the grave when his father’s body arrived. It was at the graveside that his mother said goodbye to him and it was then he knew why she was crying at home. Manasa yelled out to save his mother but people pretended not to hear him. A length of rope was passed to Setareki, the warrior, and he tied it loosely around his mother’s neck. Before he pulled the rope into a tight knot, Setareki told Manasa’s mother to bid her last words of farewell and request.

Her speech was short and she smiled while she was talking, pre

tending not to fear death. Then she asked Manasa’s uncle to love Ma nasa and to take care of him; and she wished the others happy long lives. She ended by saying that she would be waiting for them and she was going to prepare a big feast when they later joined her and their an cestors. Everyone clapped and yelled out “moce" to her. This was their way of saying goodbye. Setareki tightened the cord and pulled the two ends in opposite direction with all his might suffocating her to an agonising death. This cruel meaning less ritual was unbearable to Ma nasa. If there was a person who was to be punished when he grew up, it was Setareki.

Manasa walked into their sleeping hut and found his uncle inside, eat ing alone. He called Manasa to join him. Manasa fearing further punish ment joined him reluctantly. A young man walked in at that moment and told his uncle that a meeting was to be held very soon in the bati’s hut.

“What is it for?” asked Manasa’s uncle.

“I do not know”, lied the young man who was trying hard to dis guise the excitement in him while speaking.

“Alright, I’m coming”. Manasa’s

unde stood up, licked his fingers and hurried out.

THE meeting was short but it in volved a lot of grumbling.

Someone had come with great news; there was a turtle aground half a mile away. He said it was the big gest turtle he had ever seen. It took a long time to persuade the hard hearted people to join them to catch the turtle. There was excitement among them and soon the whole village was bustling. Men prepared their spears and even little boys tar nished their spears too.

“What was the meeting for?” asked Manasa when his uncle returned to fetch his spear.

“We’re going to catch a turtle”.

“But nobody is allowed to . . .”

“Shut up! That is alright. We cannot let such a big turtle go. This is our luck; we cannot easily catch a turtle and the meat is the nicest one can ever eat. It will be ridiculous if we just forget about it. You will stay behind and help the others pre pare the lovo.

Manasa nodded sadly and went to join the other sad boys who were to prepare the lovo or earthoven. Some went to gather yams and taro, others went to gather firewood while some dug a wide pit in the ground lined it with firewood and lit it. When the logs and dry branches were burning, rocks were thrown in. The huge logs burned away and more were added.

On their way to gather more fire wood, Manasa thought very deeply of the beating he had received and his mother’s loss. He was beginning to get angry and the more he thought about Setareki, the more he hated him. He stamped on the ground and gnashed his teeth.

“What is the matter?” his com panions asked in bewilderment.

“It is those people; they are very greedy indeed”, replied Manasa angrily.

“Who?”

“Setareki and all his men who have gone to catch the turtle”.

“We will tell on you”, warned the others.

“Go right ahead, if there is some one I am wishing for to die quickly, it is Setareki”, flared Manasa.

The others stared at him and quickly turned away running and shouting that Manasa was getting mad. Manasa knew why they said that, because nobody had ever said anything so harsh about Setareki.

THE turtle was a huge one, as the finder had said, and for many children that was the first time they had seen a turtle. There was great

excitement among the men and children. The turtle was cut up and cleaned. The blood was cooked until it coagulated into thick lumps, and was eaten. The meat was placed on top of the white hot stones, then was immediately covered with banana leaves and buried.

Then Manasa was called. The ex cited chatter of men and women was stopped and the bati turned to Manasa. Beside him was his uncle pulling his left ear lobe.

“You orphan”, snapped the bati.

“So you think we are greedy, eh?”

Orphan was a word hardly ever used among the people. It was rude to use it to an orphan.

Manasa was silent.

“Who taught you to call me a greedy man?” roared Setareki. Ma nasa looked up and gave a fierce look at his uncle as if to say, “my uncle”. His uncle who was standing still, listening intently, started to

pull his left earlobe when he met Manasa’s gaze.

The usual beating was given to Manasa. Then he was told to go and cut some bamboo for the new meet ing house. Besides that, he was not to join the feasting that night. Where he had to go was not far but he decided not to return home when it was dark.

“If only I were a man! I’d kill Setareki with one of these bamboo poles”. Manasa grumbled to himself while latching the bamboo poles to gether.

IT was dark when he returned and the weight of his load was great upon his right shoulder. He ran most of the distance and kept on looking back for any sign of an evil spirit.

He knew the feast was on and the people were enjoying themselves. As he drew closer, he heard a sharp wail of a woman from a hut and he ran towards it. A woman lay on the floor, her face pale and lethargic.

More cries and wails were heard from one house to the other and he was not sure where to run first.

He ran towards the temporarily built hut for the feast and found men, women and children’s bodies on the mats —dead. What should he do 9 He left the place with horror.

What should he do? It was night time and with all those corpses. He did not want to think about it any more.

In the dim twilight, he peeped into their hut and saw his uncle and cousins lying on the mat, his uncle s mouth wide open. His fears dis appeared and he moved inside. There was another man beside his uncle.

It took a moment for him to identify the body. Then he was sure it was Setareki’s. He was lying as if some one had carelessly thrown him in.

His hate for Setareki melted away and he sobbed bitterly.

There was nothing he could do except to run to the next village to beg for help. It was a great surprise for the villagers but they came along to dig the graves. They had no time to waste but to start digging graves that night. Torches were made out of palm fronds and the graves were dug. The usual Fijian death rites were omitted even for the highly respected people. To save time, three to four people were buried in a pit.

“Was the turtle poisonous or had our ancestors got angry?” Manasa wondered to himself.

“Never should we break a taboo”, one of the men digging muttered as if he had read Manasa’s thoughts.

“Those who try to disobey a taboo always suffer”, another added.