Suffrage

Today, as I was sitting with Edwin, we heard what I thought was distant thunder on a sunny morning. Edwin corrected my thinking explaining the noise was not thunder, but the voices of wild men. Intrigued, I pursued the subject.

The Rhythm of Death

I have been to at least seven funerals in Menya over the last two years. Last week, on the day of oneĀ burial, a young man found the belongings of a teenager on the banks of the river. I was there when he first reported his discovery to a small group. They each immediately concluded “oh,…

Spiritual Battle

In the picture aboveĀ chicken feathers are strewn on top of a roof. They were placed there as part of a ritual in which a husband brings his wife meat a few days after giving birth to mark the time she is allowed to start sleeping inside the house again. If the feathers were left on…