Then, a small movement from within the brown group drew everyone’s attention, as another tall and well-built albeit much older man, Akila, walked forward, a long sturdy spear held loosely in his left hand. ILLLUSTRATION | JOHN NYAGA
The tension was palpable. You could feel it in the tentative way the wind blew, soft then hard, then dissipating as if it wasn’t sure of itself. It was in the way birds circled overhead, swooping in circles, cutting each other off in erratic patterns. It was in the way the sun broke over the horizon, peeping first, then showing a sliver of its magnificent orange body, before disappearing behind a band of dull grey clouds and peeking out, intermittently, to illuminate the earth in bursts of golden light.
On an endless plain with knee high grass and clumps of trees, two groups of people stood facing each other, straight backed, stiff lipped, eyes narrowed as each studied the other.
