How the Stones Got their Alignments

by Nic Griffin

Foreword

Some say the best way to get to know someone is to put yourself in their shoes and start walking. That is the purpose of this essay. It is an attempt to better understand the Borana and their calendrical time reckoning system by stepping back into the place of a common tribesman. By doing this, we will explore his culture, lifestyle, and role in society. For simplicities sake his name has been changed from iNkonkolobgaki to "Ed." Now we join Ed 2300 years ago at a small village in NW Kenya.

The water is unusually still across Lake Turkana this morning. I paddle my canoe across this sacred lake hoping to net some fish for breakfast. The sun is just a pink flame on the edge of the Earth and the far sky's indigo has yet to see her face. My name is Ed. I am what you might call your typical All-Boranan male. I'm 15 years old and live with my mother and five year old brother, Kutu. My father was a great warrior chieftain. He was the leader of our clan for 20 years, until his death at the ripe old age of 35. He was a very wise man and carried a vast knowledge of the heavens. He used to tell me stories when I was a boy about how a traveler from the North visited him one day and imparted the great wisdom of the heavens upon him. The visitor explained that he was one of the chosen of a select group of tribesmen who travel from place to place and show people how the heavens go. "Of what tribe was he?" I asked my father. He said he did not know. All he knew was that he had made it his life's work to use the wisdom he had gained to benefit all of the Borana. I had no idea of the implications of this at the time, nor did I really care. Well, looks like only six fish in the nets today. I better get going, I need to be home soon with these so that Mother can prepare breakfast for us.

The sun is high off the horizon, it is now time for me to milk our cow Miku. Cows are a vital part of our livelihood here in the village. They are prized for their milk and companionship. After I finish with the cow, I need to gather some grass to repair our hut. Mom has been on me for many moon cycles to get that done.

As the day comes to a close, the sun is chased away by the moon, and all of the moon's children get together and have a celebration. There is just something fascinating about the night sky and all of its players. It has been a long day and I'm growing weary. Time to retire until the sun reclaims her throne once again.

I awaken this morning to the shrill cries of my mother. "Miku's dead! Miku's dead!" she exclaims. This brings me much sadness. I don't remember a time when Miku was not around. He will live on in my heart until my time comes. This means we must prepare the burial place for Miku. He will receive a place of honor next to my father in my family's cemetery. I must first carve our brand symbol into a rock that will be his grave marker. Then, he will be lowered into the Earth where the soil shall reclaim him and the circle of life will continue. This is how it is with my people.

That was a lovely ceremony, and the flowers were so beautiful. All of this reminds me of when we put my father into the Earth. The sights, the smells, the sounds all bring me back to the same spot ten years earlier.

I was only Kutu's age, but I still remember everything. The months before my father's death were the most special times we ever spent together. That is when he told me about the time measuring system he had developed. It involved the rising of seven stars or star groups in conjunction with the moon cycles. The stars have been sacred to my people for eons but no one had the knowledge to use them in the way my father had planned. He explained to me how these risings could mark points in time that correlate with changing seasons. This could be used so we would finally know when to plant our crops and when the rains come. That is how my father wanted to benefit the Borana. That was his dream. His ideas were not accepted though. People scoffed at him, "How can these tiny specks help us? We're bigger than a million of them put together." "Sure they are sacred, but when was the last time they fed my children." The people's words were harsh and caused my father much grief. He went into a secluded hut on the edge of the village for his last few weeks, just him and his teachings. My only wish is to somehow convince the people that this system can work. I wish I knew how I could present it to them in a way they could understand. The thing is, I can barely understand it myself. I wasn't the one who was graced with the presence of the wise man from the North.

"Ed, it's time for dinner!" my mother is calling. I wonder what is for supper? Probably that impala I hunted two moons ago and the wheat and berries Kutu gathered.

Day breaks over the horizon like a wildebeest charging through a thicket. The first thing I want to do today is to pay a visit to the graves of my father and Miku. It is customary for my people to visit the grave of a loved one, human or cow, for three moons after their death. Only one member of their family can be at the grave during this time, so that people will know who to blame if the tomb is desecrated. Our burial plot is on the edge of a hill on the west side of Lake Turkana. It is a beautiful spot, with an unobstructed view of the eastern horizon.

On entering into the grave yard, you must take off your sandals and crawl around on your hands and knees. So is the way of my people. I first come upon my father's grave. I rest my head on his grave marker and begin to recall the times of joy we spent together. Oh, how I wish his place of honor could be restored among my people. If he had just kept that "calendar," as he called it, to himself, his last days wouldn't have been such torture. His name would still command honor and respect among my people, instead of pity and contempt.

"Father," I cry out in a loud voice. "If only you could help me restore your honor. Why, why, why," I shout as I pound my fists on his grave marker. "WHY!" THUMP! Oh no, his grave marker has fallen over. Stupid me, now look what I have done. In a scrub bush in front of me a raven calls out, as if to mock me. That was my father's favorite bird. I have to set this stone back up. I must make sure the tilt is just right. How about that, the top of my father's head stone is perfectly aligned with that raven's beak. Wait, THAT'S IT! I can't believe I didn't think of that earlier. Oh, thank you, Father. I knew you would answer me. Now your name will no longer be ridiculed, nor will you be the butt of so many wildebeest jokes.

The time of preparation is at hand. I have only two moons left to complete this, my master work. It's a good thing no one is around or they might think I was desecrating the graves of my own father and cow. Everything must be perfect. No miscalculation or careless errors. I am glad my father took such detailed notes. The days are long and filled with back breaking toil and then finished, finished at last. Right on schedule too, in perfect correlation with the first star's rising.

Tonight is the first night visitors can come to my father's grave. Usually, only three or four are invited, but for this occasion I have invited the whole village. The visitors start arriving at sundown. By the middle of the night the whole village has gathered to my clan's grave yard. Fifty people on their hands and knees start to get impatient after a while. Voices cry out,"How much longer must we be here, Ed?" "You promised us great enlightenment if we came, but I don't feel any different."

"Wait! don't leave! The time is almost at hand," I plead.

Another voice cries out, "What are all of these stones here? You have desecrated your family's burial plot."

"The time is at hand, look to the east," I motion to the crowd. A hush falls over them. "I need a volunteer from the crowd. You chief Limiran. Put your head right in front of my father's headstone. Now line it up with the stone down there and tell me what you see."

"That star is right on top of the stone"

"Right! That is what my father wanted you people to see. That is the spring star! It is time to plant our crops. Come on everyone! See the alignment for yourselves"

"It does align," the people agree.

"But what are the other stones for?" someone asks.

"They mark alignments with other stars and star groups, which measure periods of time. This method of time marking was developed by my father, but you would not listen. So, I built this monument for you people to see it with your own eyes."

"Hurray for Ed and his father!"

"Hurray!" shouts the crowd.

The chief approaches me. "Chief Limiran, is there something you would like to say?" The crowd is silent.

"Yes. From now on that star will carry the name of your father, Ed, and his place of honor will be restored. You Ed, will also be forever honored by the Borana for your monument. It will stand not only as a physical calendar, but as a living monument to your family."

"Now let's go plant some crops!", someone shouts.

So goes the story of Ed and his stones.

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