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“Uncle Leona? Can you tell me about your necklace? Papa promised he would do it but he’s really busy today and I don’t wanna disturb him,” Cheka looked up at his uncle innocently while the two of them were exploring the palace gardens one day. He didn’t notice the way Leona brought a hand to the necklace or the way the question seemed to give the older man pause. Cheka didn’t notice the way his uncle’s Adam’s apple bobbed before he began to speak.
“Okay but let’s sit down first. If your legs fall asleep in the middle then too bad because I’m not going to carry you back. I’ll probably just drag you like your mother drags her suitcases around,” Leona ruffled Cheka’s bright hair playfully as the the two settled down in front of a great oak tree. The little prince’s giggles echoed trough the garden and not for the first time, Uncle Leona smiled softly at his nephew’s joy. He was just a kid after all.
“It all started with your great-great-great-great-great something grandmother. I think. Or maybe it was your great-great-great-great-great-great-great something grandfather? Can’t remember. Probably not important. Anyway, it started with someone . And they had a necklace. Not just any necklace though. They called it a Kumbukumbu, the Swahili word for memory. You try saying it: Kumbukumbu.”
“Kumbukumbu. Like that?”
“Yup. The Kumbukumbu wasn’t magic like all the other accessories back then. It wasn’t even made of metal, just plain old wood. But you know what did make it special? The beads’ colours and where they go on the necklace. According to the stories, the closer the bead is to the centre, the closer you are to the person it represents. Here, take a look at mine for an example.”
Leona undid the necklace’s clasp easily, careful not to chip the paint off any of the beads with his nails. “Here. See this big gren one in the middle? That’s your Bibi, she taught me how to make the Kumbukumbu. The purple one next to her is your Uncle Vil. Then the orange one on the right is you, my little rascal nephew. Then we have brown fading to blue for Ruggie, white and grey for Jack, purple and light blue for Epel, red for Grandpa Trein and-”
“Is Papa on the necklace?” Cheka interrupted, still holding Trein’s bead in between his fingers. Stunned into silence, Leona wondered how exactly he was supposed to break the news to the kid. “Well…he used to be. Back when we were kids and I first made it. Now…well, as people grow up, so do the people around them right? Which means some people might not be as close as they used to be. So the Kumbukumbu will change too. Like some kind of proof of the change between people.”
Cheka hummed thoughtfully, playing with Leona’s necklace quietly. “Purple for Uncle Vil, green for Bibi, orange for me, brown and blue for Mister Ruggie, purple and blue for Mister Apple, white and grey for Mister Jack, red for Grandpa Trein…then who’s this blue and orange one?” Cheka held the bead up curiously, eyes shining with his question.
“It’s for Kifaji, see the little white lines on it? Kinda looks like his beard right?” The two giggled at the thought of the chief chamberlain, his signature goatee coming to mind as soon as it was mentioned.
“Can you teach me how to make one Uncle Leona? Papa would just say no and I don’t think Mama knows what a Kumbukumbu is so can you teach me?” Cheka looked up at his uncle with nothing besides the innocent wish to learn. How was Leona supposed to tell him? The Kumbukumbu was a tradition passed down from parent to child, not uncle to nephew. Farena knows how to make one, maybe he should just tell Cheka to wait a little longer? “Please Uncle Leona? I promise I’ll listen!”
“Alright fine. I have the supplies in my room but you have to listen to everything I say okay? If anything spills, I’m kicking your ass and you’ll have to wait for your dad to teach you instead,” Leona sighed as he lifted Cheka effortlessly and made for the palace with the young prince in his arms. Hopefully Farena’s little meeting with his ministers will take long enough that they won’t need to rush through everything. Maybe Minister Rias will talk even more than usual and the meeting will run overtime. One could only hope.
Along the way to Leona’s room, Cheka had managed to ask at least a thousand and one questions. All of which Leona tried to answer as well as he could, it had been a while since he’d even sat down to make a Kumbukumbu.
“How many colours can I use?”
“It’s up to you really.”
“How many beads can I have?”
“Depends on how long the string is.”
“Can I use the same colours as Uncle Leona?”
“Only if you have the same people.”
“Can I have Uncle Vil on mine?”
“If you want to sure.”
“What about Mendazis? Can I add Babu and Bibi?”
“The Kumbukumbu is for people only. You can add whoever you want.”
“Can I add some of my friends from school?”
Damn, is this what Vil has to put up with everyday? Leona thought of his boyfriend with a little worry in his mind. The model was having a photoshoot for a commercial right here in the Afterglow Savannah which probably meant even more questions than usual from the press. Well, he is the better half… Leona smiled inwardly as his boyfriend’s radiant smile came to him, hand reaching for the blond’s correlating bead on his necklace subconsciously.
“Will Uncle Vil be coming over later?” Cheka’s final question came just as the two of them finally arrived at Leona’s room. “I wanna show him my Kumbukumbu when it’s done!” The young one bounced around the room excitedly the minute Leona put him down. Kid, with your energy levels this high, I think Vil might need a break before he comes over. Leona kept the thought to himself while he searched his desk and brought out 8 jars of paint. Reaching for one of the drawers, he pulled out the box of wooden beads and paintbrushes. Did it get lighter while I was away? Never mind. He’d just have to make more later.
Bringing out the thread and clasps as well, Leona motioned for his nephew to join him on the floor with all their materials. “For now, close your eyes. Think of the person you want to start with. Got it? Now I want you to pick a bead but keep your eyes closed,” Leona tied his hair back as he spoke, smiling faintly at Cheka’s face screwed up in concentration. “No peeking. Focus on the person while you’re searching for the right one,” Cheka’s hands sifted through the hand made beads, each one like a grain of sand against the boy’s skin.
“Got it,” the young prince voiced confidently, squeezing one of the medium sized beads in between his fingers. “Good. You can open your eyes now and take a look at the bead you chose. No take backs okay?” Leona slid the rest of the beads behind him just in case his nephew got any ideas. Though he bit back an embarrassed smile at the wonder that filled the little one’s eyes as he studied the bead in his hand. The uneven surface a dead giveaway that it was one of Leona’s earliest attempts at carving the beads.
“Now here comes the fun part. Think about your favourite memory with the person you chose. Got it? Okay, now tell me the first colours that come to you when you think of this memory,” Leona reached out for his paint jars, silently praying that he had enough for Cheka to use. “Yellow and green,” the little prince announced with the seriousness of a king. Leona had to hold back a laugh, he did make it out to be some formal ceremony after all. Makes sense that Cheka would treat it as such.
“Okay, here are the paints and here’s a paintbrush. Don’t worry about it being perfect alright? A Kumbukumbu is meant for memories, it’s not meant to be perfect,” Leona guided Cheka’s hand for the first few brush strokes before letting the kid do whatever he wanted with the paints. He worked quietly much to Leona’s surprise with his little brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to cover the entire top half of the bead in green. Though the silence was quickly broken by the time he’d completed this particular task.
“Can I tell Uncle Leona who the bead’s for, or does it have to be a secret?” At this Leona paused for a moment, trying to remember what his late mother had said to him regarding this very question. “Uh…the meaning behind a Kumbukumbu’s beads right? Well, traditionally…I mean, as long as you know the meaning behind the colours then it should be okay. But you can only tell someone else if they’re on the necklace. I think. It’s been a while since your Bibi taught me this stuff okay?” Leona shook his head as the memory came to him, his mother’s soft voice guiding his brush that first time all those years ago.
“So I can tell you then! Because this bead is for…Uncle Leona!” Cheka chirped proudly as he held up the half finished bead with a toothy grin. Leona was not ashamed to admit that he took a few seconds to process the kid’s words. Well shit. I was not expecting emotions until Vil gets here. But Cheka didn’t need to know that. So Leona ruffled the kids hair and said with a rueful smile, “Really? But there’s so much paint on your face that now I’m wondering if you’re painting yourself or the bead! Come on, put it here so it can dry and we can start on another one.” He laughed as he spoke, pulling the bead box forward again.
Thus an hour passed by peacefully with Cheka dutifully heeding Leona’s words of advice which came every so often. Careful with the brush, it might hit your eye it you hold it like that. Gently now, we don’t want to break the beads. It’s okay, it doesn’t need to be perfect. If only his teachers could see him now. The pair barely noticed when the door creaked open and even then, Leona only looked up at the gentle gasp that escaped their new guest.
“Kifaji? Is something wrong?”
“N-no, nothing sire. Just a sudden surge of deja vu is all.”
“Oh. Okay then…but why are you here exactly?”
“Ah well, Vil Schoenheit has arrived sire. He says he messaged you earlier and that you failed to reply.”
“Oh shit- I mean! Yeah never mind, I’ll just explain it to him myself. Is he here?”
Leona leaned to the side a little, the scent of Vil’s perfume coming to him before he spotted his lover’s shoes behind Kifaji’s sandals. “Hello my dear, hello little potato, I do hope I’m not interrupting,” Vil breezed past Kifaji and sank to the floor next to Leona in one graceful motion, ruffling Cheka’s hair as he sat down.
“Welcome back, how was the shoot?” Leona pressed a gentle kiss to Vil’s temple, slightly aware of Kifaji taking a seat on the bed behind them. “Tiring. I swear some people don’t know the first thing about cameras. How about you two? How have your days been?” Vil’s hand slipped into Leona’s easily, their fingers intertwining naturally as he spoke and rested his head against Leona’s shoulder.
“We were making Kumbukumbus!”
“The memory necklace right? Is this your first time making one Cheka?”
“Yep! Uncle Leona’s been teaching me and I think I got the hang of it!”
“Oh really? He must be an amazing teacher then.”
“The best of the best!”
“Really? Even better than Kifaji?”
“Mr Schoenheit, please. That’s a bit too-“
“Even better than Kifaji!”
The child innocently replied much to his uncles’ delight. Though Kifaji didn’t seem too disheartened and tweaked Leona’s ears playfully as if to say So this is what you’ve been teaching him? Mercifully, Cheka didn’t notice and held up his fourth bead proudly. “This one’s for you Uncle Vil! Then this one over here is for Mama, this one is Papa and this is Uncle Leona!” Cheka added the purple bead to the tray where the others sat out to dry before promptly running over to Vil’s side for a hug as thanks.
“Now that you’re done, there’s one last thing we have to do. Every Kumbukumbu has a story and right now, I’ll do my best to tell you the story of the first one. The very first Kumbukumbu of the Kingscholar family,” Leona waited for Cheka to settle down for a moment before he continued, his mother’s voice echoing the words in his head. A story passed down through the generations. He still couldn’t believe he was doing this. Though he pretended not to notice when Cheka took a pack of gummies from his pocket.
“It happened long ago, during the reign of the First King. Back then, food was scarce in the Savannah and he’d send soldiers to look for anything the people could eat. Sometimes it worked, and the people would have enough to survive a few months. Other times, the soldiers didn’t come back at all except for one. Even then, it was to deliver the sad news to the king. To the families the men and women had left behind.
On the first day of the new month as per tradition, the First King sent out a call for more soldiers. Volunteers to go look for food, for water, for the people to survive the next few months. Now, all these soldiers left someone behind when they went hunting. Their mother, their father, their sister, their brother, their kids…but some of these soldiers left behind lovers and one of these lovers had an idea.
Before the soldiers were set to leave for the hunt, one of the lovers approached her soldier and held up a small wooden cube no smaller than and no bigger than one centimetre. She said to him, “When you come home, I will have fashioned this into the finest jewel for you my dear. I will carve one for myself as well but I need you here before I can start on mine. So please, please come home to me so that we may shine together,” the soldier had smiled at his lover and kissed the wooden cube, like a promise that he would return.
So she waited. Every day without fail, the lover could be seen carving away at the little piece of wood in her hands. Remember there wasn’t much rain back then and it was so hot that sometimes haystacks would catch on fire and the whole village would have to help out. Still, she kept working away at the little bead. With each stroke of her knife, she kept the memory of her beloved close to her, as though afraid to let it go.
The other lovers left behind would smile at her in pity. There was no guarantee that her soldier would come home. There was no way of telling that her work wouldn’t go to waste. Still, she kept hoping. Still she kept waiting. For her soldier, for her lover to come back to her.”
Leona paused for a moment, eyes flickering with the memories that came with the story. How long had it been since he first heard it? Now he was telling it to Cheka and… Vil squeezed his hand gently, his silent question echoing loudly between them. Leona pressed on.
“Then there was another fire. Except that it happened at night while everyone was asleep. Except that they only barely managed to put it out. Except that they couldn’t get the lover out in time. All she left behind was a small green bead with red stripes hung on a thin thread. Her final gift for her soldier.
He came back the next day. All the soldiers came back the next day, with enough food to last the village two whole years. Everyone was celebrating that night. Families were reunited, siblings were together again, mothers and fathers were with their kids again… but one soldier was spotted crying at the ashes of his lover’s home. A single bead hung around his neck, it’s forest green matched his eyes and it’s bright fiery red matched his hair. Matched the flames that took his love away from him.
So the Kumbukumbu got its name. It served its purpose maybe two times over. The lover kept her soldier’s memory alive while she carved it, and the soldier would forever keep her close to his heart for the rest of his life. They say that he even took it with him to his grave, so that when he reunites with his lover, she could see how her hard work payed off and how he had kept her close all those years. In a small green bead, on the centre of his chest. Right next to his heart.”
Leona smiled softly at the two sleeping figures around him. Cheka had always been one to fall asleep in the middle of a story. Vil was probably still tired from his photoshoot earlier that day. “Kifaji, can you get Cheka off of me?” Leona pretended not to hear the telltale click of Kifaji’s phone camera before the old man finally lifted the young prince off his uncle’s lap. Kid was still holding the pack of gummies. He would tell Farena but Leona figured he’d find it even funnier than Kifaji did. Either that or he’d be pissed that Cheka wasn’t with his tutors. He took after their father after all.
“Your mother would be proud of you,” Leona tried not to flinch at Kifaji’s barely murmured words. “You did well just now. She’d be very proud of you,” were Kifaji’s last words before he left the room with a sleeping Cheka in his arms. Leaving Leona to bring his boyfriend to bed and with a million thoughts in his head.
Proud of him? No way. Leona heard the whispers in the hallways, saw the fear in the servants’ eyes even as they tried to avoid his gaze. His mother wouldn’t be proud of a monster. No one would be. Especially after he…after the overblot incident. He was a monster, who would be proud of him after that? Still though… Leona played with his necklace, the green bead in the middle weighing heavily against him. Well I guess it’s a nice thought. He shrugged inwardly as he laid Vil on his bed, careful not to smudge his makeup.
“Hey, wanna go somewhere for dinner later?” Vil murmured sleepily, eyes half lidded but still he looked as radiant as the day Leona first fell in love with him. “Let’s talk about it after you get some sleep okay?” Leona replied with a smile, putting away the beadbox and paints as quietly as he could. Cheka’s beads were drying on his desk where the sunlight hit best. They should be ready in an hour or so. “Mmmm, kiss first?” Vil looked up at him with all the sobriety of an exhausted 5 year old. Leona didn’t bother trying to hide a chuckle as he gave into his lover’s demands.
Joining him under the covers, Leona found his arms snaking around Vil’s waist on instinct. Vil in turn holding him tight even in his sleep. Maybe he was a monster. Maybe he wasn’t someone his mother would be proud of. But Leona hoped that just for today she would see that her son hadn’t forgotten what she’d taught him. That their traditions lived on.
The blankets were warmer that day. A mother’s pride warming both her son and his lover. One last goodbye.