Pre-1920s: Migration Downhill

The A-Athi way of life was centered on the meat feast, the times made joyful by collection of a surplus, when entire bands could gorge on meat and honey wine, then sing and dance through the night. Between the time of conquest and the early 1920s, band after band of A-Athi hunters abandoned the now silent montaine forest zone, drifting downhill to resettle along the highest fringes of the star-grass regions, where meat might still be found in the remaining Meru flocks and herds.

Contemporary A-Athi informants, now among the oldest men in Meru, recall this transition as a time of terror, an era when they were forced to live among far larger numbers of mainstream Meru, deprived of the psychological protection offered by the forest. As always they fought their insecurity with magic. The first step, repeated throughout Meru, was to reestablish the traditional protective zone, within which they could continue to function as A-Athi. There were several variants. In Igembe the zone was established around a mukiitia tree; in Imenti, around the traditional Nkima (skull) of beeswax and antelope skin.

The outer boundaries of each zone were then delineated by Ndindi, notched, reddened, and topped with the feathers of carrion eaters, as in the days when the slender three-foot sticks protected massive hunting zones. By the 1920s, however, they often guarded little more than the area around a single shabby hut; yet for the Meru they had lost nothing of their potency. To intensify the impact of the sticks, the area between them was sprayed with liquid dung ("of an unhealthy goat"). Thereafter, both sticks and dung were verbally enjoined to place a specific curse on any man of the mainstream who penetrated the protected zone.

The next step was to construct a central lodge—the normal beehive hut made of banana leaves—where the A-Athi could assemble for their rituals and feasts. On its completion each band chose a spokesman, most often the senior ritualist among them (the Muga wa A-Athi), who gathered other elders into the group's Kiama. British sources of that period believed that A-Athi elders were organized into a hierarchy of ranks and grades. In fact the only "junior" members were their male children, often gathered into small Kiamas of their own in imitation of their elders. A-Athi boys often built tiny huts of tree limbs and banana

leaves. Their protective symbols were the skulls of little birds and tiny twigs daubed with red clay. Their "feasts" consisted usually of millet porridge, which they renamed "buffalo" for each occasion. Known as the "wings [messengers] of A-Athi," they would strap wooden bells upon their hips, then race pellmell through surrounding villages, their clattering passage serving to proclaim an impending A-Athi feast.

The third step, a challenge faced by A-Athi bands across Meru, was to provide meat for these intended feasts. Tradition prohibited hunters from consuming the meat of domestic livestock, just as the mainstream Meru were forbidden to devour wild game. Faced with the progressive elimination of their original meat supply, however, the A-Athi resorted to ritual. Beef, when provided for A-Athi consumption, was referred to only as magara , an ancient name for buffalo. Goat and mutton, once in A-Athi hands, became nkurungu , or bushbuck.

The acquisition of buffalo or bushbuck was referred to as "hunting." A "hunt" began with a decision by assembled A-Athi elders on which homestead would be chosen to provide the needed animals for an impending feast. Thereafter, the entire group "hunted" the flocks and herds of the selected homestead by moving openly and as a single body into the main compound.

Tradition suggests that A-Athi ritual once again evolved within this decade, now giving an expanded role to the Ndindi sticks. In the past the wooden markers had always been placed at irregular intervals in the ground as passive warnings against intrusion. Now, as the family head emerged to greet his "guests," his eyes moved first to an Ndindi, notched, reddened, and befeathered as required by custom, but held high in the hand of an A-Athi elder rather than set in the ground.

The elder, usually a ritualist, approached the homeowner with great deliberation, raised the reddened stick, then slowly passed its feathered tip around his victim's head, bringing it to rest inches from his eyes. Having thus symbolically "bound" the victim by focusing his attention, the ritualist chanted the curse by which he would be bound should he fail to heed (i.e., feed) A-Athi. After each phrase the ritualist paused as if asking a question. The assembled A-Athi would respond with one voice: "Mb-u-u-u, mbu!" (Danger!)^[19]

The ritual that surrounded the A-Athi Nguchua ("claw") had also evolved. The tiny curved, clawlike sticks, used during the hunting era as final warning to those ignoring the Ndindi, served the same purpose in colonial times. In theory the mere sight of an Ndindi should have caused family heads to provide whatever livestock the A-Athi required.

In fact, many promised, later only to evade, delaying actual delivery in hope that fewer or inferior beasts would be accepted.

In such instances the Nguchua sticks once more served as final A-Athi warnings. Filled with "magic" powder and topped with the tail of a mongoose, the Nguchua had traditionally been placed before the huts of offenders who dared to cultivate in A-Athi regions. In the 1920s, although their purpose remained unchanged, the manner of use evolved along lines similar to those of the Ndindi.

A family head who evaded or delayed his promised livestock gift to the A-Athi could expect a second visit from its spokesman. Host and visitor would sit opposite one another on the ground, the hunter holding a tiny Nguchua clenched in his hand. If displeased with the subsequent discussion, he would simply open it, holding it palm up for the elder to see.

The mere sight of the little claw stick was believed sufficient to cause the host to sicken. In most instances, however, A-Athi members intensified the initial effect ("sharpened the Mugiro") by planting other Nguchua at various points within the homestead—near gates, granaries, and so forth—where their subsequent gradual discovery could steadily reinforce the initial impact and thus compel the stricken victim to comply.