He returned to Kures thinking hard. If he had to prevail against Becky, he needed to attack her at her vulnerable spot. But it remained difficult to identify the spot. As he contemplated this, an idea sprouted in his brain: infidelity.
If he could represent Becky as an unfaithful wife, he could have his way. The clan would not condone infidelity. A sweet emotion rushed up at him.
But it was short-lived . He realized that this idea was not fully formed. With whom would he accuse her of being unfaithful?
Before he could think through the inherent shortcomings in his plan, two young women came into view each laden with a barrel of water.
Pabonya recognized them: Chebet and Chepkorir. They had something he could leverage on to put his idea into a practical shape: both of them were reputed gossipers the village had ever known. He only needed to strike a matchstick, drop it on the dry grass and watch the forest burst into flames.
"Hey! How are you?" Pabonya stopped them.
Both women stopped, straightened their necks to look at him. "We are fine."
"Is it well with your families?"
"It is well."
"I have just this morning been treated to some saddening news."
"News?" Chepkorir had taken to responding to most of the questions.
"A word getting around; seems like Becky is turning into a dirty woman."
"What!" the two women exclaimed in surprise.
"You are shocked! I found it hard to believe too. But she is having an affair?" With that, he knew he had dropped the bomb.
"We have not heard anything like that," Chebet said.
He feigned disappointment. "I expected you would know."
A long pause followed. Then he said "I wonder if the two of you could help me verify this; find out if there is any truth to it." It was important not to appear so keen with this.
"We will try," they promised.
With that, they parted ways.
He had set the ball rolling, recruited them into his silent war against Becky. Charged with what he had planted he felt certain they would not keep their mouths shut.
Pabonya resumed his walk home as the women continued on their journey to deliver water. Each of them was still in doubt about the truth of what had just been relayed.
"Do you believe him?" Chebet inquired of her friend.
"As very unlikely as it sounds, I wish it was true," Chepkorir declared.
"Me too."They both laughed."That woman is too proud," said Chebet.
Becky had become a subject of envy and jealousy among some women in the village. Not because she had openly wronged them, but because she had dared to defy the conservative insistence on the traditional code of dressing. She seemed to enjoy special liberties and carried herself with independent air. She wore miniskirts, high-heeled shoes, and polished her fingernails. At times she painted her lips red. Her ears were pierced, and sometimes she hung earrings on them. She always dressed nicely and in fancy clothes. Some women wished to dress like her, but those clothes were hard to come by in the local market.
She was different. While every other woman covered her head with a scarf, Becky's long, blow-dried hair fell down her shoulders in shiny waves. She seemed to have everything she wanted.
A moment later, the two women came to a cross-roads and had to part ways.
That day, there would be a gathering in the village: a little party to celebrate a newborn baby. As custom dictated, on the seventh day after a baby's birth, women from the neighborhood would come together to congratulate the new mother. They would bring water, firewood, milk, sugar — anything they thought useful. They would share tea, laugh, and tell stories.
Chebet and Chepkorir agreed to meet again at the new mother's home.
That afternoon, Chepkorir emerged from her house, a carrier bag in hand. She approached the water barrel she had left outside in the morning. She checked that the lid was tight, then picked it up and slowly guided it onto her back. Then she made her way to the gathering.
When she arrived, several bundles of firewood lay scattered around the kitchen house — an indication that many women had come. There was a huge drum by the wall, and several empty barrels lay nearby. She walked to the drum and, lowering her water barrel, emptied it. Done, she left the empty barrel near the door, where she could easily pick it up later.
She stepped into the noisy room. After exchanging cheerful greetings with the smiling women, she handed her gift to the waiting midwife. She was shown to an empty chair, and soon a cup was set before her.
She stretched out her hand to a pot nearby, filled her cup to the brim, and waited for the tea to cool before taking a tiny sip. She enjoyed the robust sweetness while keeping her ears tuned to the conversation, hoping to hear that Pabonya's rumor had proliferated into the realm of village gossip.
But none of it came up. The women were only talking about the baby — whether he resembled the mother or the father.
Then Chebet arrived, and Chepkorir felt emboldened to broach the subject, now that she had someone to back her. Chepkorir had always been regarded as the most informed woman in both Kures and Tirita — always the first to share hot news. She wasn't about to relinquish that title now.
"So you ladies have not heard!" she declared, drawing everyone's attention just as Chebet settled in. "I've got some thrilling news for you."
"Crack it up darling!" one of the women urged.
"I thought you were already privy to it, and expected it to be the main topic here. But I've sat and heard nothing." She glanced at Chebet, who winked at her — a sign to go on.
"Get to your point," another woman said impatiently.
"You wouldn't believe it. Becky is having an affair."
With that, she had their full attention. Faces turned toward her, expressions mixed between awe and shock.
"No way!" someone protested.
"What are you saying!" another exclaimed. Some were truly shocked; others seemed almost pleased, without even questioning whether it might be untrue.
"Chepkorir is right," Chebet added, giving the rumor more weight. "I heard the same thing earlier today from Becky's father-in-law himself. You should have seen how worried and disturbed he looked."
"That is not possible," objected the new mother hosting the party. "There must be a misunderstanding."
A long debate followed. Some women began to believe the rumor could indeed be true.
"And who is he?" someone asked.
"Pardon!" Chepkorir replied. Not that she hadn't heard; she had not thought about it.
"The man involved in the affair?"
"That part remains a mystery."
While they were still talking, one woman saw Becky making her way through the gate.
"Hey!" she warned. "Stop it, she's coming."
"Who is coming?"
"Becky!"
They fell silent as Becky came closer. She carried no firewood or water barrel, but instead a large bundle tied with a leso. Becky crossed the threshold and stepped inside.
They welcomed her, some helping to get the load off her back, others silently observing. The midwife took the bundle away as Becky sat down. She was handed a cup.
She felt their gaze on her and had noticed how the noise had died down when she entered the compound, falling into silence as she stepped inside. But she didn't give it much thought.
Gradually, the conversation picked up again, shifting to other topics. It went on until the tea was finished. Then, one by one, the women began to leave.
The new mother turned her attention to the gifts, her eyes drawn to the large carton Becky had brought. She opened it and was amazed: several changes of baby clothes, a whole pack of diapers, shawls, soap, detergents, juice, and foodstuffs. She realized she wouldn't need to buy anything for weeks. Instantly, she regretted how her guest had been so unkindly discussed.
With the help of the midwife, she carried the gifts to the main house. When they returned to the kitchen house, they heard footsteps.
A late guest had come: Rebecca.
"Better late than never," Rebecca said warmly as they greeted each other.
She had had a busy day, visiting her sick sister in Kures. But she had decided to come, determined to be counted among those who marked the newborn's seventh day.
"You must have been busy. Come in," the new mother said, leading her to the kitchen house.
Rebecca sat down, and tea was served to her.
In the midst of conversation, the new mother asked, "What is it with your daughter-in-law?"
"Becky?"
"Yes. The women who were here earlier; they were talking."
Rebecca wondered what she meant, but kept silent and listened.
"I know none of it is true, but I didn't like what they said. Becky isn't the type to have extra-marital affairs."
Rebecca was taken aback. It took a moment for the words to sink in. She had expected to hear about Becky's quarrel with Pabonya — not this.
"I see you are shocked," the new mother observed. "I was shocked too. I wonder where this is coming from."
"Is that in a way insinuating that Becky is having an affair? With who?"
"That is the big question."
A strange feeling swept over Rebecca, and even the tea tasted different on her tongue. She struggled to finish her cup, then excused herself to leave. The new mother urged her to stay for dinner, but she had ten reasons not to.
As she returned home, her mind pondered over what had just been shared. Yet she knew, deep down: there was no way it could be true.