The Village Without Women

The rainforest was unusually silent when Liana stepped from beneath the enormous leaves, pushed a hanging vine away from her face, and looked toward the small clearing beside the river where Amara normally waited for her, because even when weeks passed without a meeting, even when one of their arguments ended with Amara declaring that she never wished to see Liana again, they always returned to that same place beneath the crooked mahogany tree. “Amara!” Liana called. Only a flock of startled birds answered. Binti, the small dark-haired bonobo traveling beside her, climbed onto a fallen tree and gave a worried chirp. “I know,” Liana said. “She is never late.” Binti scratched her head, then pointed toward the distant village. “Yes, that is where we are going.” As Liana followed the narrow trail, she began noticing something stranger than Amara’s absence, because the hunters passing through the forest were all men, the warriors stationed beside the river were men, and even the people gathering fruit near the outer fields were men. At the edge of the Batembi village, Liana crouched behind a screen of broad leaves and watched several women hurry between the huts, keeping their heads lowered as armed warriors shouted at them. “Return inside!” one warrior ordered. “Chief M’Balo has forbidden women from gathering in the village.” An older woman carrying a basket protested, “My sister is ill. I am bringing her medicine.” “You may bring it to her husband.” “She has no husband.” “Then she should have chosen one.” The warrior seized the basket, but before he could throw it aside, a quiet voice came from behind him. “Tarek is looking for you near the western gate.” The warrior immediately released the basket and hurried away. The speaker was Elder Kanda, a thin gray-haired man leaning upon a wooden staff, and when he saw Liana watching from the leaves, he moved slowly toward her without raising an alarm. “You should not be here,” he whispered. “Where is Amara?” Kanda glanced toward the largest hut in the village. “Imprisoned.” Liana’s hand moved toward the knife at her belt. “Why?” “Because she challenged M’Balo before the council, and because she told the women they had the right to walk beneath the sun.” “Then she was right.” “She was,” Kanda said, “but M’Balo commands twelve warriors who returned with him from the northern trading road, and the people fear their rifles.” Liana looked around the village. “Why do the other hunters obey him?” “They do not support him, but M’Balo keeps his warriors together, while the rest of us stand apart, waiting for someone else to act.” “Then perhaps it is time you stopped waiting.” Kanda studied her. “Even you cannot defeat twelve armed warriors.” Liana smiled slightly. “Not by fighting all twelve.” That evening, Captain Tarek gathered M’Balo’s warriors beside the supply hut, where several wooden boxes of ammunition had recently been delivered. Liana watched from the trees while Binti crept silently across the roof. “Carefully,” Liana whispered. Binti lowered a vine through the smoke opening, hooked it around the handle of the largest ammunition box, and tugged until the box scraped noisily across the floor. Two warriors ran inside. The moment they entered, Binti dropped from the roof, pulled the door closed, and pushed a wooden pole through the outside latch. The trapped men shouted furiously. At the eastern watch post, another pair of warriors heard the noise and hurried toward the supply hut, only to discover that the narrow path had been covered with slick palm oil, causing both men to slide helplessly into an empty fishing net concealed beneath the leaves. Binti clapped excitedly. “Four,” Liana said. “Only eight remaining.” Near the river, three warriors guarding the canoes heard what sounded like Amara’s hunting whistle coming from the opposite bank. They climbed into a canoe and paddled across, but halfway over the river they discovered that Liana had loosened the wooden plug in the canoe’s bottom. As water rushed inside, they abandoned their weapons and splashed toward the shore. “Seven,” Liana whispered. The remaining warriors gathered around Tarek in the central clearing. “This is Liana’s work,” Tarek growled. “Find her!” They entered the rainforest in a tight group, following footprints that Liana had deliberately left in the soft mud. The trail led them into a narrow ravine between two steep banks. Liana stood above them. “You have been very troublesome,” Tarek called. “Come down and surrender.” “I was about to make the same suggestion.” Tarek laughed. “You are one woman.” Liana gave a sharp whistle. Hidden villagers pulled ropes on both sides of the ravine, releasing a wall of woven reed traps that dropped over the warriors, entangling their arms and pinning their rifles against the ground. Hunters emerged from the trees and surrounded them. Tarek struggled beneath the ropes. “You cowards! Release us!” Elder Kanda stepped forward. “You called us cowards because we would not threaten our own families, but courage is not measured by how many frightened people obey you.” With M’Balo’s warriors captured, the villagers entered the chief’s hut. M’Balo stood beside Amara, who had been tied to a wooden post. “If you come closer,” he warned, raising a knife, “she will suffer for it.” Amara looked at Liana and smiled. “You took long enough.” “I stopped to visit twelve warriors.” “I hope they were entertaining.” “Not especially.” M’Balo tightened his grip on the knife. “Silence!” Binti suddenly swung down from the roof beams, landed upon M’Balo’s shoulders, and pulled a woven ceremonial hood over his head. M’Balo stumbled blindly across the hut, crashed into a basket, and fell into an enormous clay water jar. Amara burst into laughter. Liana cut the ropes around her wrists. “You knew I would come?” Liana asked. Amara rubbed her hands. “I hoped you would.” “That is not the same thing.” “No,” Amara said softly. “It is better.” Outside, the entire village assembled beneath the great meeting tree, and for the first time in many days, the women stood openly beside the men. Elder Kanda raised his staff. “M’Balo claimed that tradition gave him the right to imprison half our people, but no Batembi tradition has ever demanded such a thing, and no leader who fears the voices of women is strong enough to guide us.” A woman in the crowd called, “Let Amara lead!” Others repeated the demand until the village echoed with her name. Amara stepped onto the council platform. “I will lead only if the people may question me,” she declared, “because a leader who cannot be questioned will soon become a tyrant.” The villagers cheered. Later, as the sun disappeared behind the rainforest, Liana and Amara returned to the crooked mahogany tree beside the river, while Binti sat nearby eating a stolen piece of fruit. “So,” Liana said, “Chief Amara.” “Do not call me that when we are alone.” “What should I call you?” Amara stepped closer. “You already know.” Liana touched her cheek. “You disappeared without telling me.” “I was imprisoned.” “That is a poor excuse.” Amara laughed, placed her hands around Liana’s waist, and kissed her gently beneath the rustling leaves. Binti covered her eyes with both hands, peeked between her fingers, and gave a delighted chirp. Liana looked toward her. “You are supposed to be watching for danger.” Amara drew Liana closer. “Let her take the evening off.” Together they stood beside the river as the village drums began to sound once again, the women returned to the paths beneath the open sky, and peace settled over the Batembi village.