A choir of Maasai singers;
sundown on the Mara (above)
during A Trip To the rural village of
Sikirar, we pass hundreds of hump-
necked Boran cattle being herded at
the side of the road, en route to the
nearby river. Cows, I quickly learn, are
prized creatures here. Not only are they
a main source of sustenance for their
milk, meat and even blood, cows are
Maasai indicators of wealth. Success
is defined by herd size—the more you
have, the richer you are. A herd of 50
qualifies as upper-middle class.
Another traditional status symbol
is the killing of a lion. For centuries
before lion populations plummeted, a
young warrior would slaughter a big
cat as part of his initiation. It was con-
sidered a righteous act that respected
the animal’s spirit, while protecting
local cattle from the hungry predators.
Using traditional weapons—a spear
and rungu, a round-headed club—the
warrior would have to single-handedly
kill the lion. Jackson recounts his own
initiation, in which he took down a
massive beast with only his spear.
Kenya outlawed the practice (and all
big-game hunting) in 1977, but many
Maasai continued the prohibited rite of
passage. Over the past decade, however,
28
Summer 2018
CAA SASKATCHeWAN
Mama Jane near her home
tribal elders have come to recognize
the importance of conservation to their
community, and have agreed to ban the
ritual killing—making Jackson and his
generation the Maasai’s last lion killers.
AT A rurAl homesTeAd , I turn my
attention from warriors to women.
Though Maasai culture remains
patriarchal, women—referred to as
“mamas,” even if they’re childless—play
important roles in the home and their
economic contributions are evolving.
Down a winding dirt path from the
main road, we approach a neat house
surrounded by flowerbeds and a don-
key pasture. A tall, energetic woman
rushes to greet us. Mama Jane is one
of her community’s leading entrepre-
neurs. I learn how she now provides
much of her family’s income, thanks
to a cooperative of village women, who
make and sell intricate beaded jewellery.
Mama Jane explains traditional
women’s work, which includes child-
rearing, building the family manyatta
(home) of mud and sticks, and milking
livestock. But a woman’s main domestic
duty is water—going to the river to get
all of the family’s water for drinking,
cooking, washing and bathing.
Mama Jane invites our group to
follow her path to the river to fetch
a 20-litre jug of river water. It’s a task
she and other women often perform
five or six times a day. The two-
kilometre trek is picturesque and
quite enjoyable. But once I fill my jug,
swing it on my back with its strap over
my forehead (the typical method of
carrying it), the rocky path is less pretty
and much more grueling. Some village
kids gather to watch the novice North
Americans clumsily lug their jugs.
It’s an exercise every visitor should
try for a real-world understanding of
Maasai life.
After several days with Jackson,
Mama Jane and other villagers, I end
my visit to the Mara with an evening
game drive. A naughty-looking hyena
trots after our vehicle. We turn a corner
and nearly run into a towering giraffe,
munching on tall tree branches.
Though I’m not lucky enough to
spot a leopard this time, I tell myself
it’s okay; I decided days ago that I’ll
visit again. I will see another leopard
on my next trip to the mysterious and
magical Mara.
years old, but it turns out I was in my
early twenties.”
When I ask why most men are miss-
ing two front teeth, Jackson explains
that it’s a cosmetic ritual performed on
both baby and permanent teeth. “It’s
a way to differentiate ourselves from
other tribes. And for us, it is a sign of
beauty,” he says, flashing a big grin.