The sun blazed as if determined to crisp every living thing in the broad fields. Now and again the tall, straight, isolated sabang and payom trees leg go some of their dirty yellow leaves. He sank exhausted against a tree trunk with his dark blue shirt wet with sweat. The expanse round him expressed total dryness. He stared at the tufts of dull grass and bits of straw spun in a column to the sky. The brown earth sucked up into the air cast a dark pall over everything. A whirlwind. He recalled the old people had told him this was the portent of drought, want, disaster and death, and he was afraid. He was now anxious to get home; he could see the tips of the bamboo thickets surrounding the house far ahead looking like blades of grass. But he hesitated. A moment before reaching the shade of the tree, he felt his ears buzz and his ears blur and knew it meant giddiness and sunstroke. He looked at the soles of his feet blistered from the burning sandy ground and became indescribably angry- a
Ouside. The setting is that of a compound in a village. There is a three-legged stool, a calabash with soup remains and a door at the right, indicating the entrance to an hut. Mukasi rushes out of his hut into the open compound, kneels and raises his hands. (Wailing) The witches! The wizards! This land will not sleep! And to think that i, the son of Bulama, Great Chief of Mulamayo kingdom, heir to the throne, could be bewitched! (Shaking his head). They dont know who they are messing with. They have no idea. (Stands) Four wives. Listen to this, (Smiling) to think all those were made from my ribs, according to the white God. Four wives and none has given me a son. This is a disaster! Unheard of! Abomination! Four wives and nothing to show for it! No children! 12 daughters are not children. They will just get married off! A woman who is not married has practically no role in society. And nomatter how ugly my daughters can be, an ugly girl does not become old at home. (Paces back and