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droned on the fragments of flesh. (Once she had asked Itsho how it was that flies, and hyenas and vultures too, so quickly located a new source of food.) The face was unrecognisable, but Nandzi recognised the body at once. Unaided, she lifted the calabash from her head and set it carefully on the ground, taking care not to spill any water. She knelt by Itsho. The worst had happened. Deep inside her, this was what she had feared. Now she could not avoid the reality. Yet she felt that this was all a dream; and that somehow her disembodied spirit was watching the scene from a distance. She was completely calm. She laid her cheek upon his chest. The body was still warm. She lifted his arms, one at a time, and stretched them over him, placing his hands over his genitals. She looked up. The vultures were still busy elsewhere. She must cover the body. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Damba.
    â€œIt is someone you know,” he said.
    â€œTell him,” she said to Suba, “tell him it is my husband.”
    â€œI am sorry,” said Damba, when Suba had explained. “Bring the water and we will come back with a hoe to bury him.”
    Nandzi refused to rise. She forced her fingers into the sandy soil and scooped up a handful, testing whether she would be able to dig a grave without a tool. Damba was scared of Abdulai. He would never approve the wasting of time on the burial of an enemy. It must be done without his knowledge. He looked around. They could not be seen from the camp.
    â€œCome,” he said, echoing his words with sign language, “We will go to the camp and come back with a hoe.”
    â€œTell her,” he said to Suba.
    Nandzi pointed to the sky.
    â€œYou fear the vultures,” said Damba.
    There was a baobab tree nearby. Damba helped Suba to put down his calabash.
    â€œGo and see if you can find branches, firewood,” he said to the lad, showing by signs what he proposed to do.
    * * *
    â€œWhy have you been so long?” asked Abdulai as they approached.
    Nandzi flinched. This was the man who had raped her the previous day. But he did not seem to recognise her.
    â€œI stopped to pray,” lied Damba. “The stream is almost dry. We need a hoe to dig a pit.”
    Abdulai grunted.
    â€œThe hoes are being used to dig the graves,” he said.
    â€œI think I know where to find one,” said Damba.
    He was thinking of the hoes he had looted from Tigen's homestead.
    â€œDon't waste time,” said Abdulai, “We must eat and leave.”
    They off-loaded the full calabashes and took empty ones. Cooking fires had been lit. They would eat millet porridge with a little dried fish. If the hunters were successful, the war party would also have some grilled meat.
    Damba wanted to leave Suba to dig the grave but Nandzi insisted that she would do it herself.
    â€œItsho,” she said aloud when they had left her, “You gave your life trying to save me. It would have been better if you had never met us on the way. Then, at least, you would still be alive. Itsho, I love you. I will never take another husband. You are my husband now. I am digging your grave myself, with my own hoe, which was stolen from me. I cannot give you a proper burial in keeping with custom. Even if our captors would permit it, which they wouldn't, there is no Earth Priest here. I cannot even ask the men, my fellow captives, to come. The Bedagbam would not allow. But I will say a prayer to the ancestors myself, to accept your spirit and let you rest in peace.”
    When Damba and Suba returned from the stream, Nandzi was still digging and still talking to Itsho. Damba put down the calabash he was carrying and signed to Nandzi to put it on her head, promising that they would return to finish the burial. Abdulai must not know what he was doing.
    When Damba and Suba came back from the third trip to the stream, Nandzi was ready. She washed Itsho awkwardly with a corner of her cloth. Then