by: Hyiwot Teshome

"S’mua Manew AlkeN?" The lady growled at me. "AkistE Tsion", I replied. "InE AkistE Alil’m, Tsion n’w S’mua?" She growled again. "Awon," I answered meekly.

Don’t know how or why I got assigned as a foot soldier in the battle that goes on in the background to make a leqso one to be proud of. I was only about 12 or13 at the time of AkistE Tsion’s death. I wasn’t actually doing the things like renting chairs, dishes and utensils or even working on the canvas Das, but I was assigned to collect and ‘record’ the food and drinks that came with almost all the hazenteNoch doing the leqso thing.

It was my duty to record who brought what, and what types of dishes were brought in which dst. It was usually the ladies who came looking for me to record the stash they brought along. Almost every one of them took their time explaining which weT was in which dish and which ones were the Tsom ones going to ImayE and her close friends and relatives. ImayE and her VIP circle made their home on the main frash that was given choice real estate of the Salon corner. The ladies would make sure I recorded everything with the correct fidel in their names (halEtaw ha and hameru ha differentiated clearly), and when they expected to pick up the empty dstosh.

It boggled my mind then that people would worry about such seemingly trivial things when the real purpose of coming to the leqso was to mourn the loss of one’s beloved. It wasn’t until later that ImayE explained that these people actually expected the lady of the house to know who brought what, with the tacit expectation of reciprocation with the same or better dishes when and if misfortune visited them. ImayE said that one would not take a dish of shiro to a person who brought doro weT, and that one would not take a doro weT to a person who brought just mere shiro, or nothing at all… .

On the second day of the leqso the VIPs concluded that not enough crying was commencing and promptly ordered up a professional Asleqash. This one came highly recommended and it was impressed upon me that I should take care of her accordingly. At the appointed time, the lady sauntered in and announced herself. Typical of a professional, she sort of demanded what she would need before getting on with her leqso. There was to be some fresh injera and weT and a cold beer to help wash down the food. I obliged her request she took her time munching away. She wasn’t the talkative type - it actually felt like she was just waiting for an opening to do her thing and go on to the next engagement.

She finally finished eating and downed the beer in 2 seconds flat and got up and straightened out her n’Tela. She asked for the names of the sisters and brothers of my aunt and asked for any tidbits I could provide. The only thing I could think of was that one brother was a guest of MengE’s at AmisteNa Poliss Tabia , and another brother was unaccounted for due to MengE’s negligence to tell us where he was being ‘kept’. That perked up the Asleqash to no end.

She finally took a deep breath and bounded into the living room just like Mike Tyson used to do at the top of his form. "Tsioniye, Tsioniye, Tsioniye…," she wailed. The reaction was mesmerizing. She had the whole family eating out of her hand. Everybody was crying their eyes out and beating their chest.