done systematically, with all community members present at the meeting filing past the secretary and telling her either the name of a cattle thief, or that they didn’t know one. The sungusungu, a posse of men, was then empowered to hunt the accused down and beat them until they returned the stolen cattle.23 The people at the meeting were told that the iritongo would meet every week until all the thieves had been found and punished. Two days after the iritongo meeting, a posse of about twenty-five men went charging past our homestead, heading toward the Tanzanian border, arguing and calling out, spreading news of what was happening as they passed. And indeed, women cried out on numerous nights as homes were visited by vigilante justice. The anxiety over witchcraft was augmented by this additional type of fear, that of accusations and vigilante justice.
Circumcisions, nonetheless, remained the primary topic of private conversations, as did the many accounts of witchcraft acts occurring in various places in the location. On December 9, Abanyabasi began circumcising. In Bwirege, at the official Jamhuri Day celebrations on December 12 at the district officer’s camp, the crowd slowly assembled to hear speeches by government officials commemorating the establishment of Kenya as a republic. People seemed resigned to the cancellation of initiations in Bwirege. The rumor of the day was that circumcision would not take place, as this was the day that the first eight—the amanaanai representative of the amakora—were to have been circumcised as a precursor to the community-wide event, but were not. And the reopening of schools was drawing closer, so the time for healing would possibly be inadequate. People speculated that the old circumciser had gone blind, or the youth to be circumcised had refused to be operated on because of his blindness. The rumor seemed confirmed when Mogore Maria, in her role as elected councilor for this area, urged people not to kill their cattle, because in a few weeks’ time they would need to pay school fees.
After her, a wealthy Kuria businessman who usually lived and conducted his activities in Mombasa gave a scathing speech, berating the elders for having called off the initiation season. “We have brought our children from all over Kenya to become abaiseke and abamura within our communities, to become Kuria,” he said.24 He went on to say that the inchaama were joking with people, they’d postponed the operation three times. The people who had brought their children back there for it would have to go back with them uncircumcised. Were the inchaama defeated, leaving everyone to do it in any way they liked? Taking the children to the hospital? If they were circumcised at that time they would only have two weeks to heal. In the past, abasaamba had had six months to recover. Why should the young ones now only have two weeks? “But if the abagaaka don’t allow them to be circumcised according to our tradition, we’ll take them to be circumcised in clinics or hospitals wherever we live.” He articulated most clearly what others were not willing to state openly: the elders had lost their power to order the affairs of the localities in which they had been regarded as the ultimate culturally designated authorities. Many people clearly agreed with his assessment. They were furious at the possibility that circumcisions might not take place. Everyone had prepared food, brewed beer, and come from long distances to be here when their children were initiated, and all that seemed to have been in vain.
Talk of initiation ended with the district officer, a young man from northeastern Kenya. He spoke of esaaro bitterly and disparagingly. “I called a meeting of the iritongo and no councilors came. The leaders only talk, they don’t do anything. And people talk about witches and being bewitched.” Though he had been in the district only two months, he was already seeking a transfer, because he felt he could not work with the people. “In many parts [of the country] they have stopped the primitive methods. But here it is still going on in that way.” What his perspective overlooked, in his equating of the witchcraft beliefs with only superstition, ignorance, and backwardness, was that Kuria he administered were trying to retain their sense of Kuria cultural uniqueness, hence their adherence to tradition as they sought to bolster claims to be given their own administrative district. The role and position of elders in Kuria society, among other things, was being challenged and renegotiated. The elders had not been the leaders in the struggle for the district earlier in the decade. That had been spearheaded by the generation of men who were the sons of the elders, whose children were to be circumcised during this season. So on one level, the struggle embodied in the witchcraft events and rumors was an internal dynamic of a clan (ikiaro) needing to revitalize local boundaries, develop a self-identity, and encourage a self-sustaining future based on local language and values. On another level, the struggle was between various segments of descent groups, vying for seniority and increased power to determine their own agendas with regard to the dynamics of the ikiaro. Within the ikiaro, members of competing ibisaku and amagiha were negotiating their own structural positions. As the public dispersed from the meeting ground, people speculated that some would probably go and have their children circumcised in clinics.
Rumors of witchcraft had succeeded in bringing preparations for an initiation season to a halt. The threats posed by outsiders, whether human or animal, were scrutinized for hidden meanings and indications that supernatural forces would negatively affect the outcome of the initiations and lead to deaths among the initiates. Despite their wide repetition, the rumored incidents remained opaque. But clearly, people of Bwirege were anxious, and locating the cause of uncertainty required teasing out a number of forces, local, national, and international. Locally, uncertainties about group definition raised fears of territorial realignment, consequent expulsion, and homelessness. Further, descent segments of various depths were staking claims for positions of power and authority within the local context. On the national level, insecurities brought on by the economic and political weakness of the state manifested in a widespread reliance on concepts of evil as a propagated supernatural force in order to rationalize the declining control of the state in areas meant to promote public good. And as the state tried to negotiate its position with international donor organizations, it focused on the eradication of female genital cutting as the cause that would highlight the clear trajectory it was committed to, moving the nation from traditionalism to modernity.
2
Boys Lead
Two days after the Jamhuri Day celebrations, I was walking home from the wedding of a research assistant from a previous field season, Helen Motongori. She had confided in me her fears in linking her life to a man who would take her far away to Dar es Salaam. The 5-kilometer hike offered plenty of opportunity to reflect on that and the events of the past few days. Tired from participating closely in the myriad elements of a marriage celebration, I was happy to reach the marketplace as the sun sank and the tropical darkness almost immediately swallowed up places and people. I was even happier to find Joel Wantahe waiting to escort me home, given that Nyankare market is the domain of drunks and thugs during the dark hours of the day. As we threaded along narrow paths invisible without moonlight, Joel Wantahe gave me a bit of good news—the initiation season had been declared on again, and the first eight candidates (amanaanai) were to be circumcised the next morning.
The amanaanai represent the eight generation classes (amakora) in Kuria society. Always the first to be operated on, these boys are a bellwether for the initiation season. If their operations go well, the elders of the secret council declare the season to be open. We continued home and found everyone excited and chattering about the imminent celebrations. As the news spread, we could hear people filling the market. Around 7:30 in the evening, we heard the candidate from the neighborhood take off with his group of escorts, chanting, singing, and shouting. They were off to Tanzania, to a place near Kiribo. In the market, people were jubilant—singing and dancing, blowing whistles, screeching, trilling, and carrying on. We could hear them all evening as we prepared and ate dinner, and late into the night.
But not everything felt right. People were wondering whether only the Abarisenye (the junior house) were circumcising or if the Abakehenche (the senior house) were joining them, too. Rumor had it that the amanaanai were from the junior segment, which was surprising since the usual protocol would be for the senior house to go first. The initiation season continued to be fraught with tension. Everyone was hoping that none of the amanaanai would die or have to be taken for treatment—that would
