Upper Semliki Valley 22kya
The Kapenta[1] clan had journeyed two weeks, walking through the grasslands and open woodlands that grew into dense gallery forests as they drew closer to camp. The clan carried their spartan goods; skin bindles hanging from lengthy harpoons and digging sticks. Loose nets draping shoulders containing stone axe heads, hammers, adzes and bored stones for the migration to the annual catfish spawning runs.
“At long last it is time to prepare for the season of Spawn Feast[2]!” Nabi croaked, voice raspy from years of tending smoldering fires.
She was walking behind the fighting aged men in a single row, skin on her face sagging like a mast in full fruit, stout and strong for a woman of her age with wisps of hair sprinkled her upperlip and chin skin. Behind her were the young followed by the women all in the same long snake of a line. “My hands have lasted me this long but they are tight and aching. To feel the thunderfish[3] is what these rattling bones need most.” quipped Nabi, still keeping pace, she shook her burden giving the sound of a baobab fruit full of seed; the children laughed with glee, they too shook their little goods hanging from miniature digging sticks before they broke rank and began running to the clearing.
Having finally arrived at camp, it became apparent they were the first ones to make ground; “Good.” she thought, just as she had planned. The earth had been packed by many generations of foot traffic but weeds still managed to grow through in some spots. After a fire was made to burn off the resilient inedible undergrowth the community of some 15 souls not including children went to work. Long and springy saplings from around the area were picked and were arched in laceworks that were blanketed in raphia palm leaves.
She was monitoring the group with the warmth and sternness of a grandmother. Noticing a slacker looking for fruit rather than working she barks “Kula! Young man pay attention to what the men are doing or else I will give you something to pay attention to!” brandishing her stone-weighted digging stick.
As the skeleton of the hut came together she and the senior-most man Oli began talking about what else was needed to be done. “The ensete is growing well enough but move the ashes to last year's bone middens, make them luxuriant.” Oldman Oli suggested, she nodded in agreement and called for the children to sweep ashes to be spread in the midden beds.
All the clans were to come to this area during the great Spawning and it was the duty for each to prepare their own communal home for this occasion. What the first clan did in their camp set the tone for friendly competition and a more serious yet unspoken social debt to be repaid by others received by them.
For the Kapenta clan, coming exceptionally early allows for the preparation and execution of an elaborate communal hut and starch rich foods ready by the first vundu post-harvest feast. “We will say when the others begin to arrive ‘Ah yes, you have finally come! How was your journey old friends! Come, rest in our hut; we have more than enough space, go into the shade!” Oldman Oli gleamed and continued “Yes! We will offer them roasted ensete and honey. When they ask how long we have been in the camp we will say but a few days.” The other clans cannot outright refuse the offer but none would want to at any case; honey and ensete were foods of much value even if that meant having to give back more such as salt or boat labor.
Nabi, Oli and the rest of their people are said to have emigrated far away because they were against intermixing with northern peoples. They called northerly people impure & contaminated for they are blamed when a sickness ravaged the participants of a Spawn Feast some generations ago. These people called the Termite People for the canoes made from half termite eaten trunks they introduced and their lowliness are the reason Nabi claimed several thousands all along the rivers and lakes had dwindled to some 600 souls.
Their ancestors were once like her people, after migrating back from Spawn Feast the ancestors of the "real" Northern clan came upon a strange people who came from even further north. In time trade in goods and wives ensued; slowly however their women folk fell ill as did a few men; believing it to have been a curse by these flat faces, the northern clans ambushed the flat faces in the night while they rested killing them all[4] save for several girls and women as replacement brides. Their clan dwindled; but those girls survived and so did the canoes the girl's people had with them at various stages of creation. When Spawn Feast came they sojurned south in their meager numbers, introduced the canoe thereby giving the greatest gift allowing their men access to all the huts that held the women of child bearing age and all the many clans menfolk sought access into the Northern clan's hut. Their people gave another gift; a sickness. Those mongrels as Nabi likes to say of them spread the sickness with the activities that go on during this time of great fertility. Only the Kapenta, the clan that lived among the spawning grounds year round resisted the urge to mix...Or so the old Woman says ; no one questions it given her age but their numbers tell otherwise.
Truth be told Termite people did have a strange look; lanky, quite hairless with faces somewhat lacking or entirely without beautiful ridges. It was because they shared the knowledge of the canoe that they have been able to return yearly to harvest Vundu eggs, but they are unable to engage in any other activities of the clans. Every year Termite people seem to progressively look more and more strange but because they create the best canoe they have access.
Oli made his way to the cliffs that overlooked the river only to discover threes canoes had been eaten away beyond repair and so only one perched on stones by chance the year before remained. "It will be cramped for the six men, they'd have to take shifts" Oli thought "but it’ll have to do." the men have no other option, to go out without a canoe would show their poverty and shame the whole Clan leading to a year without new blood.
______
Its dusk and Oli has made it back to the camp; the hut all low and wide is complete. A staccato of hands slapping water pierced the air breaking the monotonous never ending work song, it was Old woman Nabi initiating the call for the first ceremonial song as Fudjn, her grandniece who had begun to spot six nights before. Oli presided, the other men hearing the beat quickly sought the privacy of the hut.
One by one the camp’s female voices rose and fell in yodeling polyphonical perplexity that haunted and shrieked and howled; laughed and dirged:
“Where is our fish old man?
We took our children here to eat, traveled far with sore feet and babes suckling
Where is the Vundu?
To cook over flame and coal, singe the scales and then pick the bones
Do not worry of your canoe, it is us who feed you the catch
Our handiwork nourished you
Bring us Vundu and then lie on your mat
Make lovers fat, bring them gifts, make pact.
Into new clans hut you adjourn, but you always come back.
Our sister has drawn blood, feed her vundu so she will be just as bountiful
Your sister has spotted as the first drop of rain, you will be held accountable!
Before Termite people taught you the craft of canoe who bundled raft from bark starting only from reed
It was woman!
it was woman!
it was woman!
It was woman!
Stood out in nets first taught by Weaverbird to gather sardine!
banned the flesh of bat, duiker, ape that poisoned the clans saving you!
It was woman!
it was woman!
it was woman!
It was woman!
Who crafted tool[5] that surpasses even the harpoon! Telling us its time to come back, first tracked by wood then just as the harpoon point by bone?
IT IS WOMAN!....."[6]
[1]Kapenta Limnothrissa miodon is an endemic fish species is found in Lake Tanganyika, a freshwater sardine of sorts
[2]The Spawn Feast is based on the Spawning season of the Giant Catfish/Vundu Heterobranchus longifilis, an ancient site in northeasterm DRC littered with the bones of spawning age catfish remains and harpoons heads off and on for 100k years
[3]The Electric Catfish Malapterurus electricus a similar fish was noted by greco-romans for its regenerative properties from the shock
[4]Loosely inspired by remains at Nataruk, near Kenya's Lake Turkana the world's oldest massacre 10k years ago
[5]Related to the Ishango Bone
[6]Vundu Song is based loosely on the first of 4 songs in the Eland Song series called "We are hungry". The Eland Song series is believed to be oldest song ceremony within Kalahari Bushmen musical repertoire and meant to be sung when a girl enters womanhood as well as the Elima Hut songs of Mbuti. Other songs meant to embarrass and remind men of their debts like the Mbuti Honey Dance are also connected (which are actually more common than you'd think throughout quite a few african cultures)
*Note: contrary to popular belief for significant portions of Homo Sapien's time on Earth Congo wasn't rainforest.
The Kapenta[1] clan had journeyed two weeks, walking through the grasslands and open woodlands that grew into dense gallery forests as they drew closer to camp. The clan carried their spartan goods; skin bindles hanging from lengthy harpoons and digging sticks. Loose nets draping shoulders containing stone axe heads, hammers, adzes and bored stones for the migration to the annual catfish spawning runs.
“At long last it is time to prepare for the season of Spawn Feast[2]!” Nabi croaked, voice raspy from years of tending smoldering fires.
She was walking behind the fighting aged men in a single row, skin on her face sagging like a mast in full fruit, stout and strong for a woman of her age with wisps of hair sprinkled her upperlip and chin skin. Behind her were the young followed by the women all in the same long snake of a line. “My hands have lasted me this long but they are tight and aching. To feel the thunderfish[3] is what these rattling bones need most.” quipped Nabi, still keeping pace, she shook her burden giving the sound of a baobab fruit full of seed; the children laughed with glee, they too shook their little goods hanging from miniature digging sticks before they broke rank and began running to the clearing.
Having finally arrived at camp, it became apparent they were the first ones to make ground; “Good.” she thought, just as she had planned. The earth had been packed by many generations of foot traffic but weeds still managed to grow through in some spots. After a fire was made to burn off the resilient inedible undergrowth the community of some 15 souls not including children went to work. Long and springy saplings from around the area were picked and were arched in laceworks that were blanketed in raphia palm leaves.
She was monitoring the group with the warmth and sternness of a grandmother. Noticing a slacker looking for fruit rather than working she barks “Kula! Young man pay attention to what the men are doing or else I will give you something to pay attention to!” brandishing her stone-weighted digging stick.
As the skeleton of the hut came together she and the senior-most man Oli began talking about what else was needed to be done. “The ensete is growing well enough but move the ashes to last year's bone middens, make them luxuriant.” Oldman Oli suggested, she nodded in agreement and called for the children to sweep ashes to be spread in the midden beds.
All the clans were to come to this area during the great Spawning and it was the duty for each to prepare their own communal home for this occasion. What the first clan did in their camp set the tone for friendly competition and a more serious yet unspoken social debt to be repaid by others received by them.
For the Kapenta clan, coming exceptionally early allows for the preparation and execution of an elaborate communal hut and starch rich foods ready by the first vundu post-harvest feast. “We will say when the others begin to arrive ‘Ah yes, you have finally come! How was your journey old friends! Come, rest in our hut; we have more than enough space, go into the shade!” Oldman Oli gleamed and continued “Yes! We will offer them roasted ensete and honey. When they ask how long we have been in the camp we will say but a few days.” The other clans cannot outright refuse the offer but none would want to at any case; honey and ensete were foods of much value even if that meant having to give back more such as salt or boat labor.
Nabi, Oli and the rest of their people are said to have emigrated far away because they were against intermixing with northern peoples. They called northerly people impure & contaminated for they are blamed when a sickness ravaged the participants of a Spawn Feast some generations ago. These people called the Termite People for the canoes made from half termite eaten trunks they introduced and their lowliness are the reason Nabi claimed several thousands all along the rivers and lakes had dwindled to some 600 souls.
Their ancestors were once like her people, after migrating back from Spawn Feast the ancestors of the "real" Northern clan came upon a strange people who came from even further north. In time trade in goods and wives ensued; slowly however their women folk fell ill as did a few men; believing it to have been a curse by these flat faces, the northern clans ambushed the flat faces in the night while they rested killing them all[4] save for several girls and women as replacement brides. Their clan dwindled; but those girls survived and so did the canoes the girl's people had with them at various stages of creation. When Spawn Feast came they sojurned south in their meager numbers, introduced the canoe thereby giving the greatest gift allowing their men access to all the huts that held the women of child bearing age and all the many clans menfolk sought access into the Northern clan's hut. Their people gave another gift; a sickness. Those mongrels as Nabi likes to say of them spread the sickness with the activities that go on during this time of great fertility. Only the Kapenta, the clan that lived among the spawning grounds year round resisted the urge to mix...Or so the old Woman says ; no one questions it given her age but their numbers tell otherwise.
Truth be told Termite people did have a strange look; lanky, quite hairless with faces somewhat lacking or entirely without beautiful ridges. It was because they shared the knowledge of the canoe that they have been able to return yearly to harvest Vundu eggs, but they are unable to engage in any other activities of the clans. Every year Termite people seem to progressively look more and more strange but because they create the best canoe they have access.
Oli made his way to the cliffs that overlooked the river only to discover threes canoes had been eaten away beyond repair and so only one perched on stones by chance the year before remained. "It will be cramped for the six men, they'd have to take shifts" Oli thought "but it’ll have to do." the men have no other option, to go out without a canoe would show their poverty and shame the whole Clan leading to a year without new blood.
______
Its dusk and Oli has made it back to the camp; the hut all low and wide is complete. A staccato of hands slapping water pierced the air breaking the monotonous never ending work song, it was Old woman Nabi initiating the call for the first ceremonial song as Fudjn, her grandniece who had begun to spot six nights before. Oli presided, the other men hearing the beat quickly sought the privacy of the hut.
One by one the camp’s female voices rose and fell in yodeling polyphonical perplexity that haunted and shrieked and howled; laughed and dirged:
“Where is our fish old man?
We took our children here to eat, traveled far with sore feet and babes suckling
Where is the Vundu?
To cook over flame and coal, singe the scales and then pick the bones
Do not worry of your canoe, it is us who feed you the catch
Our handiwork nourished you
Bring us Vundu and then lie on your mat
Make lovers fat, bring them gifts, make pact.
Into new clans hut you adjourn, but you always come back.
Our sister has drawn blood, feed her vundu so she will be just as bountiful
Your sister has spotted as the first drop of rain, you will be held accountable!
Before Termite people taught you the craft of canoe who bundled raft from bark starting only from reed
It was woman!
it was woman!
it was woman!
It was woman!
Stood out in nets first taught by Weaverbird to gather sardine!
banned the flesh of bat, duiker, ape that poisoned the clans saving you!
It was woman!
it was woman!
it was woman!
It was woman!
Who crafted tool[5] that surpasses even the harpoon! Telling us its time to come back, first tracked by wood then just as the harpoon point by bone?
IT IS WOMAN!....."[6]
[1]Kapenta Limnothrissa miodon is an endemic fish species is found in Lake Tanganyika, a freshwater sardine of sorts
[2]The Spawn Feast is based on the Spawning season of the Giant Catfish/Vundu Heterobranchus longifilis, an ancient site in northeasterm DRC littered with the bones of spawning age catfish remains and harpoons heads off and on for 100k years
[3]The Electric Catfish Malapterurus electricus a similar fish was noted by greco-romans for its regenerative properties from the shock
[4]Loosely inspired by remains at Nataruk, near Kenya's Lake Turkana the world's oldest massacre 10k years ago
[5]Related to the Ishango Bone
[6]Vundu Song is based loosely on the first of 4 songs in the Eland Song series called "We are hungry". The Eland Song series is believed to be oldest song ceremony within Kalahari Bushmen musical repertoire and meant to be sung when a girl enters womanhood as well as the Elima Hut songs of Mbuti. Other songs meant to embarrass and remind men of their debts like the Mbuti Honey Dance are also connected (which are actually more common than you'd think throughout quite a few african cultures)
*Note: contrary to popular belief for significant portions of Homo Sapien's time on Earth Congo wasn't rainforest.
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