A village chief, Labong'o, returns from a council to be greeted by his daughter Oganda, who asks for news about when it will rain. Labong'o is cryptically speechless. Notably, with Ogot's immediate presentation of this critical concern about whether or not rain will come, the reader may at once expect that this concern will be resolved favorably; the title--and there is no evidence that it is meant ironically--assures that "the rain came." Thus, the tension raised by this concern shifts to a different question: the rain will presumably come, but at what cost? Labong'o's attitude signals that this will weigh heavily on him. In the village, all are confusedly astir. (Traditional Luo society is polygynous, with some men having multiple wives, so a "co-wife" would be another wife to the same man.) Drought appears to be causing great hardship, as the chief has grown thin, livestock are dying, and the people fret for their children. The chief has been able to do little more than pray daily. In his hut alone, Labong'o mourns that his daughter, who wears a glittering chain around her waist, must die. While as a chief he has committed the lives of himself and his family to the good of the Luo people, as a father, he weeps and cannot bear the thought of losing his only daughter. But he feels the spirits of the ancestors with him in the hut, allowing him no choice. Among the twenty children his five wives have blessed him with, Oganda is Labong'o's favorite. Though the other mothers are jealous, they also shower her with love, especially because she is the only girl. But while Oganda's death would wreck Labong'o spiritually, he understands that to disobey the dictates of the ancestors could potentially mean the destruction of the entire tribe. The medicine man, Ndithi, a rainmaker, was visited in a dream by Podho, a Luo ancestor, who identified a virgin girl with a chain around her waist as the one who must be sacrificed to the lake monster, at which time rain will
A village chief, Labong'o, returns from a council to be greeted by his daughter Oganda, who asks for news about when it will rain. Labong'o is cryptically speechless. Notably, with Ogot's immediate presentation of this critical concern about whether or not rain will come, the reader may at once expect that this concern will be resolved favorably; the title--and there is no evidence that it is meant ironically--assures that "the rain came." Thus, the tension raised by this concern shifts to a different question: the rain will presumably come, but at what cost? Labong'o's attitude signals that this will weigh heavily on him. In the village, all are confusedly astir. (Traditional Luo society is polygynous, with some men having multiple wives, so a "co-wife" would be another wife to the same man.) Drought appears to be causing great hardship, as the chief has grown thin, livestock are dying, and the people fret for their children. The chief has been able to do little more than pray daily. In his hut alone, Labong'o mourns that his daughter, who wears a glittering chain around her waist, must die. While as a chief he has committed the lives of himself and his family to the good of the Luo people, as a father, he weeps and cannot bear the thought of losing his only daughter. But he feels the spirits of the ancestors with him in the hut, allowing him no choice. Among the twenty children his five wives have blessed him with, Oganda is Labong'o's favorite. Though the other mothers are jealous, they also shower her with love, especially because she is the only girl. But while Oganda's death would wreck Labong'o spiritually, he understands that to disobey the dictates of the ancestors could potentially mean the destruction of the entire tribe. The medicine man, Ndithi, a rainmaker, was visited in a dream by Podho, a Luo ancestor, who identified a virgin girl with a chain around her waist as the one who must be sacrificed to the lake monster, at which time rain will