The boy was quiet and motionless. His thumb was still jammed in his mouth but he had stopped sucking it. The other hand had frozen in the act of folding his ear. His eyes remained fixated on the visitor. His mother caressed his head with one hand and turned her attention back to the guest.
“It must be interesting to visit different places.” She said wistfully. “I’ve never gone out of this village. I was born here. I’ll probably die here.”
The stranger’s eyes refocused as they looked at the mother. “Travelling teaches a lot of things.”
A sound distracted the mother and she looked down. The boy was swaying. His mother stroked his head again and the child quietened down.
“Maybe when I was younger…before I had children…but now, especially with this one,” she nodded in the direction of the boy, “it is impossible”.
“How old is he?”
“Eleven.”
The surprise on the stranger’s face prompts the mother to go on. “He is a little slow,” she admits.
“Has he always been like this?”
“Yes.”
“What do the healers say?”
“Nothing. He won’t let them come near him.”
“Even Ndana w’Andu?”
“That one!”
“Everyone east and even west of the great valley has heard of him. They say he is a great healer.”
“Ha, I don’t know about that.” Indignation animated the mother’s voice and soared with each word. “When I took my boy to him, he grabbed my baby by the legs and beat him so badly my son could not sit for two months. What kind of healer does that?”
“Did you ask him why he did that?”
“No. I was too angry to speak to him that day. And my baby was in pain and screaming. A few days later, I heard that that so-called healer had been bitten by a snake while collecting leaves in the field.”
“What?” The visitor was shocked. The flies buzzed noticeably louder, drawing the mother’s puzzled attention for a moment. “Are you sure that it is Ndana w’Andu whom you are talking about?”
“Yes, it is. He died because of the wound.”
The swarm of flies went silent.
