Alpha Male

On my visit last month, I was fortunate enough to be invited to the home of my Masai friend Kirori, whom I have gotten to know over the years at Governor8217;s camp in the game reserve.

In his olive green camp uniform, Kirori doesn8217;t give the impression of being a Masai8212;until he smiles. That8217;s when the two missing lower incisors give him away. As a clever solution to lockjaw a common disease among the Masai, these teeth are pulled out so that a pipe can be inserted in the mouth for nourishment.

After an hour8217;s drive from camp, we reach the krall, with its small houses made of dead brush plastered with cow dung. They form a circle around an open central area where the cattle are housed at night. Heavily adorned in beaded finery, a group of women greet us and sing a welcome song. I walk around, talking to them Kirori acts as interpreter, being invited into their homes and admiring their jewellery display.

Humans, chickens, dogs and goats mingle, raising their young in one community. The Masai live frugally, focusing on their cattle, and co-exist with the wildlife.

Stepping out of the krall to see the young herders with the cattle, we see a group of Masai warriors with glinting spearheads heading home. They are back after spending a month at an Olpul8212;a feasting camp where the sole purpose is to eat roasted meat, and drink milk and blood to strengthen themselves. As they approach, I am struck by their lithe, controlled and confident movement. They exude such fierceness I cannot bring myself to look into their eyes.

Gathering outside the kraal, they dig their spears into the ground, and begin to sing, announcing their arrival to the rest of the clan behind the thorn fence. In seconds, all the children gather around to watch. As the warriors start to jump straight up and down to display their athleticism, I am truly impressed.

Not the children. They have seen these warriors go much higher. So they laugh out loud, as the effects of a month8217;s feasting become apparent.

Kirori explains that being an Il Moran is the apex of a Masai male8217;s life. They are now free to roam the Masai land without permission from anyone. Cattle-herding days are behind them. Youth bashing becomes a thing of fun. Arrogance sets in as they are viewed as the defenders of their tribe.

Trained in warfare, they fend off enemies and go on cattle raids. So adept are they at tracking down wildlife that they can approach silently within a few feet of the beasts without being observed. Lions that attack humans or cattle are swiftly tracked, circled and speared. The one who actually spears the lion gets to keep its mane as a headdress.

Adorned in headdresses made from ostrich, oriole and bee-eater feathers, the Masai warriors8217; long braided hair is rubbed with red ochre, and ornaments embellish their glossy muscular bodies. Young Masai girls, captivated by the warriors8217; good looks and prowess, accompany them on jaunts and are quite free to liaise with them.

Celebrations are held at the slightest pretext, and the youngsters sing and dance into the night, with honey beer flowing free from the calabashes.

Watching the warriors enter the krall and greet the others formally, I feel privileged to enter their world even for a moment. Just like the wildebeest migration that was taking place a few hundred feet away, nothing has altered about this ceremony.

Yet, in reality, they are truly anachronistic because the world around them has changed since the advent of Europeans. The formation of the Kenyan nation has created a boundary with Tanzania, dividing Masailand in two.

The Masai are now subject to national laws. So cattle raids are considered theft, and are forbidden. Hunting wild animals is banned. Dealing with the enemy in their own style means interfering with law and order.

Even though they continue to hunt and raid on a very small scale, the raison d8217;etre of the Masai warrior is gone. The sting has been taken out of the wasp.