The River Between by Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o Read Free Book Online Page B

of the river. The whole scene became fearful to Nyambura and she no longer felt excited. Even the warmth of the morning sun did not awaken her. She loved her sister and now was troubled because she did not know what would happen.
    They took their tin water-barrels and began the slow ascent of the ridge back to their home in Makuyu. Suddenly Nyambura heard a slight groan from her sister. She quickly turned round; a look of dismay was on Muthoni’s face; her water-barrel was rolling down the slope back to the river.
    Nyambura and Muthoni had to go down again. “A bad omen,” Nyambura thought.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    The women and men of Makuyu were already up and about their morning chores by the time the two girls, with their water-barrels weighing heavily on their backs, reached home. All along the ridge, thick blue smoke was curling upward, issuing from the scattered, mud-walled huts that made up the village. Some women, apparently not early risers, were just now going to the river to fetch water, while here and there, cattle and goats, with small boys trotting after them, trailed in all directions.
    There was a general uniformity between all the houses that lay scattered over this ridge. They consisted of round thatched huts standing in groups of three or four. A natural hedge surrounded each household. Joshua’s house was different. His was a tin-roofed rectangular building standing quite distinctly by itself on the ridge. The tin roof was already decaying and let in rain freely, so on top of the roof could be seen little scraps of sacking that covered the very bad parts. The building, standing so distinctly and defiantly, was perhaps an indication that the old isolation of Makuyu from the rest of the world was being broken down.
    As yet, it was true, no town was near. Nairobi was far, a town not known to the hills. Siriana was still the nearest missionary center: a big place with hospitals and a flourishing school taking boys and girls from all over the country. But the missionaries had not as yet penetrated into the hills, though they sent a number of disciples to work there. The people remained conservative, loyal to the ways of the land. Livingstone occasionally paid a visit to the hills, giving new life and energy to his various followers. His main work, however, was being carried on by Joshua.
    Joshua, Nyambura’s father, was now a middle-aged man who always preached in sharp ringing tones that spoke of power and knowledge. He, along with a few others, had been the first to be converted to the new faith. He was then a young man who ran from the hills and went to live with the white man in the newly established Mission. He feared the revenge of the hills; the anger of his friends, betrayed. In Siriana he found a sanctuary and the white man’s power and magic. He learned to read and write. The new faith worked in him till it came to possess him wholly. He renounced his tribe’s magic, power and ritual. He turned to and felt the deep presence of the one God. Had he not given the white man power over all? He learned of Jesus—
    Behold, a virgin shall conceive,
    And bear a son,
    And shall call his name Immanuel.
    He realized the ignorance of his people. He felt the depth of the darkness in which they lived. He saw the muddy water through which they waded unaware of the dirt and mud. His people worshipped Murungu, Mwenenyaga, Ngai. The unerring white man had called the Gikuyu god the prince of darkness.
    Isaiah, the white man’s seer, had prophesied of Jesus. He had told of the coming of a messiah. Had Mugo wa Kibiro, the Gikuyu seer, ever foretold of such a savior? No. Isaiah was great. He had told of Jesus, the savior of the world.
    Those who refuse him are the children of darkness;
    These, sons and daughters of the evil one, will go to Hell;
    They will burn and burn forever more, world unending.
    These strong words frightened Joshua and shook his whole body; shook him to the very roots of his