Metutu headed to Busara’s cave, feeling a little upset and longing for some inner peace.
Kima came out to greet him affectionately. “Come in, my son! Look Busara, it’s Metutu!”
Busara came out and threw his arms around him like an old friend. Already Metutu felt his anger melting away like wax in the hot sun. “I was just thinking about you, and here you are! Have some fresh grapes with us and let’s talk.”
“About what?”
“I can sense that you were upset with someone. Not us, I hope?”
“Certainly not!”
“Your father again?”
Metutu took some grapes, blessed them, and began to eat them a couple at a time. “I don’t mean it wrong, but I really hate politics. I love my dad, but I can’t stand what he does for a living.”
“Hfff! Can it be that you have lost your faith in politics?” Busara offered him some cold water which Metutu gratefully accepted. “So what is it this time? Old Maloki again?”
“Isn’t it always?” Metutu scratched his head. “I mean, why don’t those two just try to get along? I don’t believe Maloki is half as evil as my father says he is.”
“Well you knew they were like that. There’s something else, isn’t there?”
“Yeah.” Metutu put his head in his hands and sulked. “Dad tells Chidu one thing, then turns right around and tells Bugweto exactly the opposite. So I asked him about it, and he told me that God is the source of all truth, and that when he wants something done, he can change the truth.” He looked pained. “I let it drop, but any way you look at it, he just plain lied. I remember my mom always telling me not to lie, but I can’t remember my dad saying anything except that I should not lie to HIM. I never know when to believe him anymore!”
“I see.” Busara put his hand on Metutu’s shoulder. “This disturbs you. But there is more to it than that. Much more.”
Metutu felt he had said too much already. He quietly took a couple of grapes and chewed them very slowly.
Busara smiled understandingly. “You are worried that one day you will take his place, and that lies will not bother you. That the means will be justified by the end. It makes you feel dirty somehow just thinking about it.”
Metutu met his glance intently. “Is lying part of being chief? Can’t I be honest and still do the right thing? Do you really think God changes the truth?”
Busara sighed deeply. “Lies are fruits that are ripe and beautiful on the outside but have a worm inside! The same is true of someone that cannot be trusted. I trust God with my life and the life of my family. I know that his words to me will endure forever incorruptible and perfect. Now if you’ll pardon me for a moment of honesty, I think you’d make a terrible chief.”
Metutu looked down. “I see. Then what am I fit for?”
Busara gently raised Metutu’s chin to look him in the eyes. “Last night I had a vision of you bowing before Mano and Minshasa. Mano kissed you and said, ‘Arise, my true son. Your father was chief of a small village, but if you are faithful you will rule in splendor and might with the great kings in the sky.’”
“Me?? Are sure it wasn’t just a dream?”
“A dream?” Busara patted his cheek. “Son, your whole life to this point has been a dream. Now it is time you awoke.”
“What would Aiheu have of me? What must I do?”
“You have just taken the first step. Always ask what Aiheu would have of you. Make it your morning and evening prayer, your first thought on waking and your last as you fall asleep. Next, you must go on a vision quest and open your heart to the Creator. When a cub cries to his mother, he is fed. When you cry to God, he will not leave you empty. Guidance will follow.”
“You want me to be a shaman?”
“What I want is not important. I pay little heed to what I want, yet everything I truly wanted is here for me. It is a simple trade. You worry about what Aiheu wants, and he will worry about what you want. I tell you son, once the staff of a chief is in your hands, it is so hard to let go of it. You’ll spend the rest of your life in regret, but you’ll cling to it as a vine clings to a tree. I tell you a higher purpose awaits you, one that will never bring you to shame.”
“If I am not the next chief, who will free our people?”
“Someday the people must free themselves. And if Aiheu wills it, so shall it be. You can run from God, but you cannot hide.”
“But what can I offer him? I don’t feel like a child of Mano. I want to do this, but I’m frightened.”
Busara laughed. “And you’re the only one? Maybe the world is vast, and on it you are just a tiny spot. But is it not better to be a bright spot among the stars than a dark spot on the ground?”
Metutu sighed. “You always say the right thing. I’ll do it.”