No pain, no gain or merry for Tiriki boys itching to be men

Boys who had undergone circumcision ritual among the Tiriki listen to elders advise. [Eric Lungai/Standard]

It would have been a month of song, dance and feasting. And some pain.

As far back as anyone can remember, it has always been this way every five years in Hamisi Constituency, Vihiga County, when thousands of boys face the knife that ushers them into manhood.

It is one of the most anticipated cultural events in the region.

But now, Tiriki and Terik elders have reached an unprecedented decision: there will be no circumcision this year.

With the dark clouds of Covid-19 gathering fast and furious, the elders have said it would not be safe to conduct any rituals, and that the boys will have to wait a little longer to be men.

No elder seems to remember the last time this crucial rite of passage was postponed, certainly not in this generation.

The last time the rites were held was in August 2015, the month during which the community marks a milestone in its calendar that comes once every five years.

“Elders often sit and assess the situation, such as whether there is a disease outbreak or if the community has enough food. Right now, the coronavirus pandemic is here with us and everything has come to a standstill. We have postponed circumcision,” announced Terik Council of Elders National Secretary John Chepseba.

The announcement was devastating, not just to the thousands of lads who had been spending sleepless nights steeling themselves for this moment, but for the entire community.

Circumcision here is a communal ritual - everybody gets involved.  

“Many people often start preparing for the ceremony years before. They buy the necessary regalia, stock their barns with food. Relatives who are away travel back home to share in the joy. Now that it has been postponed, many will be disappointed,” said Tiriki circumcision council chairperson, Javan Bulemi.

But what exactly does this sacred ritual mean for the Tiriki and Terik, and what do those who missed out on it this year stand to lose?

Everything.

Sacred forest

For starters, no one can contest for any leadership position among the Tiriki and Terik sub-tribes before going through the requisite traditional circumcision rites.

Although the community tolerates leaders from other communities who do not practice circumcision, to ascend to any leadership post in the region, one must pass through the sacred forest and face the knife.

All leaders from the area, including Senator George Khaniri, Hamisi MP Charles Gimose, MCAs Erick Odei, Nixon Butiya, Zacharia Murefu (deputy speaker), Calistus Ayodi, Collins Ayugu, former National Police Commission Chairperson Johnstone Kavuludi, among others, have danced their way through the sacred forest.

You can get an education, but you must graduate from the school of life first.

“Circumcision gives us an opportunity to educate our young men on how to stay harmoniously with the people, how to guard the community, how to address elders and how to deal with issues. If you are not circumcised, how can you understand our issues?” said John Bor, a Terik elder and former chief.

“If you go through circumcision, it is like going through an integrated school of thought where you are schooled about life.”

With Covid-19 spreading like bush-fire, the school of life for boys is closed for now.

The community does not circumcise girls.

According to Bor, elders decided to end circumcision of girls in the early 1960s after the elders realised that the ritual was standing in the way of girls’ education.

“Circumcised girls would not do anything else apart from being married as they were assumed to have learned everything about life. It marked the end of their journey in seeking any other knowledge, apart from taking care of their husbands,” said Bor.

On whether it could be going on, albeit secretly, Bor is firm.

“No. Girl’s circumcision is a thing of the past and is no longer in the minds of elders. Elders want our girls to get an education and prosper like others in the country,” he said.

That left only the boys to face the knife.

They were ready this year. Those who spoke to The Standard could not hide their disappointment after the elders postponed the ceremony.

For Darren Amukoye, 11, who was scheduled to undergo the cut this year, it was double disappointment: he missed the last cut by a whisker because of his age. He will be missing this one because of Covid-19. 

“I missed out in 2015 because my father said I was still very young and should wait for the next ceremony. I was ready this year. Now I will have to wait until the elders decide when we will undergo the rite,” said Amukoye.

Newton Kadembesi, 14, and Wilstone Kagoni, 13, from Gamudusi village in Gisambai expressed their disappointment, too.

“We have resigned our fate to the elders,” they said.

According to the Terik Council of Elders secretary, the community does not have age restrictions for initiates today, and children, some as young as six, have been circumcised in the past.

The only condition is that the initiate be old enough to understand the life lessons taught in seclusion. 

“There are in other cases where you find that some parents had not come home for long for their own reasons or work-related issues, and therefore have children who are over 20 years old. When they come, they are not locked out,” says Chepseba.

The common age of initiates ranges between eight and 16. If the Covid-19 pandemic does not end soon, some boys might have to wait until they are in their 20s to become men.

Test of courage

Covid-19 has also denied Terik and Tiriki boys an age-old test of tenacity. Circumcision among these two sub-tribes takes more than courage.

Unlike other communities in the region where initiates stand in broad daylight to be circumcised, Terik and Tiriki initiates must retreat to the forest for one month.

No woman, not even their mothers, comes into contact with them.

Elders who are entrusted to guard secrets of the ritual disappear into bushes for the whole period, barring any other person from learning the secrets of the tribe outside the initiates.

No cameras are allowed inside the forest. The elders fear these will leak their secrets to the outside world.

Inside the forest, the young men sit with the men for the first candid and intense talk on culture and what it means to be a man.

“It is only during this time that the young men will sit with elders and are given the mantle to run the community, taken through various dos and don’ts and to some extent given permission to exercise some elderly duties,” said Chepseba.

During the circumcision month, no one else is allowed to shed a drop of blood. The only blood shed is from the initiates facing the cut.

This means a season of peace just got disrupted.

“One of the pillars of the ritual is peace. In the recent past, we have seen differing groups clash and young men fight in what they term guarding their culture. That is against our culture,” said Chepseba.

This year’s initiates will not just be missing out on the chance to become men. They will also be missing a once-in-a-lifetime adventure that goes with the ceremony. Once circumcised, the initiates wear animal skins during the 30 days of healing and stay in a makeshift hut, itumbi, in the forest. They are not allowed to interact with the outside world.

The do not use any metallic or plastic objects for eating, they use calabashes. They do not sleep on mattresses or cover themselves with sheets, but sleep on banana leaves and cover themselves with animal skin.

Traditional liquor, busaa, is brewed in every home where a Tiriki boy is circumcised following the full traditional rites.

Once completely healed, the young men emerge from the forest to dance in chosen arenas in villages during evening hours when no one can recognise them.

They wear traditional regalia to hide their identity. The dances attract hundreds of spectators from neighbouring regions.

Still, Christianity is steadily eating into the Tiriki and Terik circumcision culture, dividing it into a traditional oriented faction known as Tiriki Msituni (traditionalists) and a Christian-based faction nicknamed Vasomi (the learned).

Although they do not interact with women, initiates from the Christian faction enjoy the comfort of bedsheets and various entertainment while they are at their various enclosures for the month.

Their traditionalist counterparts sleep out in the bush.

The rivalry between the two factions is evident through rival messages in their war songs.

This year, the war songs have been silenced.

Hamisi MP Gimose said this year, initiates will miss out on a milestone of their lives.

“Cicumcison is used to instill high levels of discipline, and it is an important aspect of social life,” he said.

The MP has no kind words for critics of the age-old culture, pointing out that although parents now have the option of circumcising their sons in hospitals, many still prefer the traditional way and will be disappointed by the postponement.

“People still love it as part of their life, thus demonising it is running away from responsibility. I would want it to be done,” he said.

No one can remember the last time the circumcision ceremony was postponed. According to the elders, the ritual dates back to many centuries when the first Terik man moved into Vihiga County from Mt Elgon.

According to Chepseba, elders traditionally visited Kapkoros (the shrine) to seek the gods’ divine intervention during the period of circumcision and seek guidance on whether it would be successful or not.

The gods rarely said no.

“In the event that the elders consulted the gods and found out that something sinister would happen during the circumcision period, they would postpone the ritual. But this was rare,” said Chepseba.

This time it would seem the gods have said no; not until the evil that is Covid-19 is defeated.

Until then, a generation of boys will have to wait longer to be men.