The crane’s girlfriend
Seven months ago, a crested crane arrived at the doorstep of a family in Kyenjojo, western Uganda. A girl in this family, Kembaga, took it in and made friends with it. <b>Raymond Baguma</b> writes.
PURPOSE recently led me to a drab iron-roofed, mud house in Kigaya village, Kihuura sub-county, Kyenjojo district. A torn curtain hung over the doorway in a vain attempt to prevent peering eyes from discovering the secrets inside. On close observation, the walls are crumbling and the house may soon collapse on its dwellers.
A woman emerged from within; a Leesu wrapped round her bust. Her moist-face told that she had just had a bath. I was a stranger who deserved to be treated with suspicion under normal circumstances. But instead, she smiled and let her vocal cord loose inquiring, “Where is Bifukunyu?â€
“Bifukunyu has gone to her wandering ways,†replied a distant voice that sounded younger and I presumed to be the daughter of ‘Ms. moist-face.’
My sojourn to this village was intended to meet a tamed crested crane that has been christened the name Bifukunyu Abwooli. Its tamer is Doreen Kembaga, a 12-year old P5 pupil at Bukoro Primary School.
The crested crane is a revered bird in Uganda as a national emblem. They are wild, graceful flyers that live in swampy lowland areas where they breed. However, with the uncontrolled destruction of their breeding grounds, these birds are threatened.
Had Kembaga been in Europe, she would be an animal tamer working with a circus troupe, I thought. But here she was a plain, bashful country lassie with queen-of-the-jungle traits. How she has managed to tame a bird is something of a novelty and talk is rife amongst the village folks that Kembaga is blessed and destined to marry King Oyo Nyimba.
“Omukama nasobora kumuswera,†the locals of Kihura often say.
Victor Rwahuriremu, a resident of the area said, “This is a strange happening but it might not be of any cultural significance. It could be that the girl was more accommodative than the other children at home.â€
“Bifukunyu became fond of me because I fed her on maize and other cereals. She stayed on and we are now friends,†says a shy Kembaga.
Well, the bird may have moved to this home in search for food; but cultural die-hards may think different. Toro kingdom minister for palace affairs, Mishac Kawamara said that he would lead a team of elders to meet Kembaga and her parents.
Tibakanya said Bifukunyu arrived at their home on October 8th last year, a day before we marked our independence. Coincidentally, during that time, King Oyo Nyimba visited the sub-county while on a measles immunisation campaign.
“Bifukunyu came from the direction of the nearby Nyankimba swamp and we gave her sanctuary in our home,†Tibakanya said.
Kembaga hails from Abagaya clan. According to Rev. Richard Baguma, an elder, the Abagaya clan are a sub group of the Biito reigning clan. ‘Okugaya’ in Runyakitara means ‘to despise.’
“Long time ago, a group of the Biito were hosted to the King’s palace and given a gourd of beer to share from. They however rejected the offer saying it was little and they broke away, forming the Abagaya clan,†Baguma said.
He added that the Crested Crane is a symbolic bird in Tooro culture related to the Abagabu clan - the ancestral clan of Bunyoro Kitara Empire from which Tooro Kingdom descends.
“The Batembuzi kings belonged to this clan and these included Isaza, Rutahinduka amongst others. The Abagabu are so close that they are the only ones allowed to step on the King’s red carpet. The Crested crane is the king’s friend, but how it came to live in the home of a Mugaya is still a mystery,†Baguma said.
Besides all this, Kembaga has made it an easy task for bird watchers that pay a fee to see Bifukunyu. The two have become breadwinners for the family.
“We are used to seeing visitors to this home. Recently, visitors came with huge cameras and took pictures of Bifukunyu with Doreen,†remarked elderly Alice Tibakanya, Kembaga’s grandmother.
Little wonder then that my impromptu visit did not so much surprise ‘ms. moist-face’ who I later learnt was Beatrice Mugisa, Kembaga’s mother.
I was offered a seat - a vintage furniture piece probably forgotten by colonialists after their numerous victories over defenceless African tribes in the early twentieth century.
“Where are you from?†she inquired. I promptly replied that I worked for The New Vision. “Oh, so, you write for The Newspaper?†she said. For no reason clear, she failed to pronounce the word The New Vision, and insisted on calling it The Newspaper.
A malnourished village hound brushed its tail against me before nestling underneath the chair. Then our talk about the bird began. Impulsively, the dog yawned as if bored by our conversation, revealing cavity-filled teeth, yet Tibakanya was in raptures about my interest in the bird.
“She is God’s creation and we could not send her away,†Tibakanya spoke piously.
Indeed, the home looks like an animal sanctuary with a dozen dogs, a cat, goats, cows and fowls. The overgrown grass in the compound gives the home a jungle-look where the fowls dart about without fear of being devoured by the canines.
Kembaga walks three kilometres to school with her mate and people stare at the odd pair wherever they go. On arrival at school, the bird waits for her under a tree shade until classes end in the evening.
Bifukunyu is the only member of the family who does not sleep in the house. At bedtime, she perches herself on the rooftop or at times, in an Avocado tree in the compound. Kembaga’s dilemma is her ignorance of Bifukunyu’s gender.
Lilian Nsubuga, Public Relations manager of Uganda Wildlife Authority (UWA) said that Kembaga should secure a Wildlife user-right license to allow her keep the bird as a pet.
Ends