Maasai Tribe

       As I left for work on my second day, I was prepared for anything.  I had a full bottle of water, sunscreen, snacks, toilet paper for the squatty potty or the bushes, and mosquito repellant.  I continued this practice of loading up my purse because in Africa you never know what might happen in a day; a wonderful opportunity might come your way or you could experience a breakdown on the side of the road for many hours, who knows?

       Again we knocked on the big metal door at WEECE, and a student greeted us with a big smile. This time Mama Mrema and the three Ugandan women were already in the sitting area.  After pleasantries were exchanged, Mama announced that we were going to a Maasai village for discussions concerning the starting of a bank.  Earlier in the month, the Maasai women sent word to Mama Mrema that they wanted to start a VICOBA.  This was unprecedented and groundbreaking news for several reasons.  The Maasai have always been pastoral, which means they are nomadic and move their tribes according to the rains and the grazing for their cattle, goats, and donkeys.  Being constantly on the move have kept the Maasai isolated from outside influences, which is how they have maintained their unusual culture and traditions until today. They subsist on milk, meat, and blood from the cattle.  In recent years some of the Maasai are beginning to settle, moving less often.  This particular tribe has been in the Rimit area for two years now, and Mama has been teaching them to plant vegetables so their diet will be healthier.  The fact that these women asked for a VICOBA inferred not only permanence, but also that they were ready to move forward in their own personal development.

       Traditionally the Maasai women do not read or write.  They build the small houses, cook and take care of the children. Their husbands have many wives, and rotate from house to house. The women have no say regarding to whom they are married, anything their husband does, issues about their home, or within the village.  They are voiceless.  Women are at the bottom of the Maasai tribe.  They are invisible servants, and until recently, never knew there could be another way.  Evidently, within the last week, the women met privately and decided they did not want to include the men in their VICOBA because then they would not be able to speak.  They sent word to Mama Mrema about their decision and she knew she must visit them in person to discuss this matter. 

       We drove again in a hired vehicle, through the town of Moshi to a rural area on the other side.  We rode for a while, passing an enormous sugar plantation on the way.  The plantation owner had created a man-made canal for irrigation which ran alongside the road, and for several miles, families were washing their clothes and bathing. Our driver stopped at one point for me to take a picture of Kilimanjaro, who was showing her face.  Even the Tanzanians stop to gaze when she peeks out from the clouds that surround her.  We continued driving on dirt roads for quite a while, through the middle of a low plain filled with scrub brush, when suddenly the driver stopped.  We waited. Mama turned from the front seat.
       ”They will find us because they have seen our dust.” 

       Within a few minutes, from out of the brush came a large group of smiling, singing Maasai women.  It was the first time I had ever seen a Maasai with their beaded jewelry and long pierced earlobes.  I greeted them in my limited Swahili, but realized they were speaking another language. They each shook our hands, and bowed as they led us through the bush to an area with a tree.  Thank goodness for the tree!  Underneath in the shade they had placed several benches and a small table. Everyone settled into the small area and the leader greeted Mama and the rest of us.  A few of the women  spoke Swahili, but mostly they spoke Maasai, so time was allowed for interpretation. 

       Mama Mrema took the floor.  She spoke to the women of how happy she was for their courage to speak up for themselves, but explained that if the women completely alienate the men, they will become suspicious, resentful, and angry. It will cause many problems for the women.  This is why VICOBA's always allow men.  For the most part they are filled with women, but the men are always welcome, and they know this.  An hour of debate persisted until finally Mama Mrema spoke to me in English.
       "We have discussed this issue, and I have agreed to say to the elders of the tribe that we will start with the women first and then we will make a group for the men.  At the same time we will begin to form a singing choir of men, women, and children to share with the world the beautiful gift of their voices. I think this will keep peace among the tribe, and it will go well for all." 

       Suddenly, soda's and water appeared from out of nowhere.  They were only for us, the honored guests, and it would have been very impolite to have refused the gift. I felt guilty drinking in front of everyone knowing they were just as hot and thirsty as I was. Mama Mrema took over again and began moving people into groups.  She broke her own rule for the first time, of limiting the VICOBA to 30 people.  Thirty-six women had shown up and she couldn't bear the thought of losing any, so she rearranged the magnet groups. I couldn't understand the language, so I didn't really know what was going on.  This movement went on for almost an hour, as Mama patiently moved the women here and there.  Finally, it was determined that the next time they met, it would be to start the VICOBA.

       As the meeting drew to a close, Mama asked me to speak again. What could I say to these Maasai?  She said, that as a white woman, whatever my words, would be valuable to them. I spoke of the courage it took for them to live their life in a new way, and that if they were always unified and helped each other, it would be easier for them. I mentioned the wisdom of the advice of including the men, and encouraged them to bring their husbands along with them in some way, throughout the journey. I brought greetings from their sisters in America, and thanked them for the honor of being included in their lives that day.  They gathered, sang us back out of the bush to our vehicle and kissed us good-bye.

       On the way home I was awestruck at what I had just experienced.  I sat quietly in the back while there was a roaring in my soul. I had to process the impact of what I had just witnessed.  As we rounded the corner nearing my CCS home, I finally spoke.
       "Mama, why did it take so long for you to put the women into their groups?  What was that about?"
       Valeria Mrema doubled over with laughter.  It took her a moment to catch her breath before she could answer.  I began giggling just watching her laugh. Eventually, she said,
       "There was an elderly woman, whose sons had so many wives, that it took me forever to figure out a group where she was not the mean old mother-in-law!"
        The entire van collapsed in a fit of laughter.

A maasai hut

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