It was here that many cheered and hollered. She didn't expect so much to roar out, yet the surprise was exceptionally pleasant. As many followed another. With this, she brought the people into a small prayer.
"Thank you for your faith," she bowed and showed an x to the people who greeted her with one in turn. "We have one last song for you before the next come on."
As she stepped off, the gentle tapping and rapping at the marimba began with another plucking at a mbira after every few beats. Both of the sounds, so light, as if waking one from that which is heavy.
It rushed up fast, beating back and forth, galloping to the pace of a springbok. More hands joined in letting the tune resonate.
Rattles eagerly jumped in, brushing up from the soil and into the skies, grounding the voices that snuck in through soft chants.
It grew and grew, yet it was almost like a welcoming cheer shared between friends, acting only to enhance the hands beating the marimba fervently.
Other voices danced in humming with their own reason, wild but not reckless, and always ululating together when the moment came.
The dancers, both elders and young, shared smiles and let their feet patter down, and their hands tremble with joy.
They not only crowded the stage, yet let it act as a trunk while they branched out, offering their spirit to touch those who were standing and staring, unaware that their own bodies were unable to be still.
And soon, many children were giggling and dancing too. It was only natural that those besides them, too, offered a twist here and a nod there.
Yet more and more blended into the soothing sound and released themselves from the saddening silence that they had confined themselves to.
As the tunes swayed and changed, the people did too. Of course, not everyone.
Yet Salīa saw upon them, more daring to smile and laugh, even though tears were streaking their faces, some still had bloodstains on their clothes, and others had broken down yet were held by those around them.
She could sense the barrier strengthen and let her own presence seal into those that were offered by Salazā's people.
Salīa passed through where some council members greeted her, all congratulating her. Even Bana dared to say, "You weren't that terrible."
Only able to chuckle, Salīa nodded and said, "Thank you, Bana."
This stunned Bana, who hid her softened eyes. She was soon blocked out by the rest, who honored her. Even some of the people tried to make their way to her.
The neighboring zazi greeted her, too.
She could see the smiles of everyone from Nomusa to magi-mi Chamba to the injured boy she met earlier on her walk. Even all of Chief Raino's children were smiling. Save for one.
While Bazil was beaming the most from his posted spot, it was Raki who was closer, yet whose face stayed quite plain. She passed him and heard a mutter.
"What did you say?" asked Salīa.
His brows furrowed and unfurrowed several times, but he couldn't say the words. And once he noticed people staring at them, he turned his head.
"I loved it," said Bazil.
"Ay, really?" Salīa lit up. "Thank you so much."
"It was really special. I wanted to ask. Could we talk—"
"You forget she has somewhere else to be," Raki said coldly.
Bazil's face cinched as he turned to his brother. Yet both eased their expressions when their father loomed over them.
"I'm very, very proud of you. And so are the people," Chief Raino said sincerely. "Are you ready to go?"
She looked over to the crowd, smiled, and then nodded.
"Yeah, let's go to the Salazā Spirits."
X