A Greek historian who had traveled to South Arabia to document firsthand information about the Christian rule in the area, arrived in Himyar, and was referred to Yacob. Yacob told him about Azeb’s scrolls and the foreigner, overjoyed at the possibility of first hand information, begged to be allowed to review it.  The historian was impressed with Azeb’s scroll and volunteered to teach her some European history.  I was uncomfortable with the way Azeb was totally focused in academics, at a time where she should be keen to learn domestic management.  I decided to start telling her about the life expected of a woman in our society.  I wasn’t much older than her when I got engaged to her father.  I thought telling her about my engagement and wedding would be a good start to get her to think about her future.

‘Megabit eight was such a sad day for me.  It was the twelve anniversary of my birth, and I found out that I was to marry Negad Ras Ermias, the minister of Finance.  This meant the end of childhood for me, but most of all, separation from my cousin Kaleb.  The wedding was to be a month later, on Fasika, Easter day.  Kaleb who was quite fond of Ermias, vouched for his honourable characters, and assured me that it was the best marriage arrangement’.

Azeb smiled and nodded her head in agreement to the description of her father.

‘The groom sent my family a gift of two Arabian stallions, five camels, a herd of cattle and boxes of cotton and silk garments as well as gold and amber jewelry. My father, may God forgive him, was a greedy and adulterous man, just like his sister, the late Queen.  He kept most of the gifts my fiancé sent and even distributed some of the jewelry among his many concubines.’

I could hear Azeb gulping air at my ruthless description.  ‘I am telling you this because there is a lesson to be learnt,’ I said.  ‘My mother, in her wisdom, had instructed Kaleb and I, to beware of the vices of my father and his mother from an early age.  She urged us to break the curses of greed and adultery, so we may not become like them’.

I went on to describe how a couple of days before the wedding feast; a bridal tent was pitched for me.  As the women sang bridal songs of wisdom, and decorated my hands with henna, I started to relax.  The songstress sang along from Proverbs, as she gently strums the kirar six-string lyre;

The wife of noble character who can find?

She is worth far more than rubies.

Her husband has full confidence in her

And lacks nothing of value.

She brings him good, not harm,

All the days of her life.

While my body was massaged with fragrant oils, I pondered on the wisdom of the lyrics.  Why should I be sad? – I questioned myself.  There is a season for everything, right?  At least that is what my mother said.  Well I have enjoyed my childhood.  Now, I should be thankful for coming to a stage in my life, where I can fulfill the purpose of my life; that is to bring glory to God by being a good wife and mother.

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My hair was freshly braided with gold pendants sewn where the braid started near my forehead.  For the wedding day I wore the traditional light cotton dress embroidered with vibrant colourful cross patterns in silk.   My mother helped me put the special wedding kaba, a red velvet cape embroidered with gold and held out the mirror given to her by the Queen, to examine myself.   What I saw in the reflection was, a beautiful young woman trying to be content and grateful, while still unsure about what life has in store for her.

‘I believe life never managed to crush that optimism out of you, Imma-ma. You stayed content and grateful, right?’  I knew from Azeb’s earnest look, she was trying to figure out if she would be content to believe the purpose of her life was to be a good wife and mother.

‘My precious, I would be lying if I didn’t admit there were challenges, but I chose to remain content through them.  Everyone has a different calling.  I am sure that you have already found out that yours is different from mine’.  As I say that I was reminded of what my mother said her’s was, when I visited her at Kaleb’s palace five years after my wedding day, with my two girls in tow;

‘Mother, I thank God for making married life easier for me, by hearing my prayers and providing me with an honourable husband, unlike in every sense to my father’.

My mother, who never spoke ill of anyone, unless there was a lesson to be learned, shook her head. She raised the clay pot and slowly poured a cup of coffee and handed it to me.  She then looked around to make sure her granddaughters were out of earshot.

“What you said is true.  It must be easier to be a good wife to an honourable man.  I am glad you praise God for this gift.  However, God never gives us beyond what we can bear.  I thank God for giving me the opportunity to raise you, your brother, and Kaleb to be upright people, uncorrupt by the bad blood that pulses through your veins.  I consider this an honour and a blessing’.

****

My efforts to make Azeb concentrate in the domestics of a family life did not succeed.  King Abreha overextended himself by preparing a campaign against Mecca.

Azeb was totally absorbed in documenting this campaign.  ‘It feels like our King was inflated with self grandeur’ wrote the ever-emboldened Azeb in her scroll.  ‘He was simply jealous that Ekklesia, the beautiful Cathedral he built here in Saa’na, was not receiving as many pilgrims as that of the Ka’bah in Mecca. His faithful advisor, my uncle Yakob tried to reason with him, but to no avail’.

My wise brother saw disaster coming our way.  While King Abreha was busy preparing for war against Mecca, Yacob put me and my entire family on the next fleet bound to Adulis port.  No matter how I, and my daughter Azeb begged him, he refused to come with us and abandon his King.

While Azeb and I freely let our tears wash our face in parting, our men stayed stoic.  Yokob’s ten year old son Melaeke’s eyes were brimming with tears, but following the men’s demeanor, he bravely held back his tears as he got on board the ship with us.

Islamic tradition labeled the campaign that followed as ‘the year of the elephant’.

Azeb wrote, according to the accounts of my uncle Yakob, who went to this battle and lived to tell the tale:

King Abreha, the Christian ruler of Himyarite, which was subject to the Kingdom of Axum of Abyssinia marched upon the Ka’bah with a large army, including many elephants, with the intention of destroying the sacred site.

The king himself rode a huge elephant; an animal which the Arabs had not seen before.  Trained war elephants were effective psychological weapons to use on previously unexposed enemy.  The bright and formidable armour worn by elephants helped encourage the menace.  That is how the year came to be known as ‘Amul-Fil (the year of the elephant). When news of the advance of Abreha’s army spread, the Arabian tribes joined together to defend the Ka’bah.

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With the elephants making a formation march, the army arrived at the suburbs of Mecca.  King Abreha to ensure the frightful show was successful, strategically sent a small group to capture most of the camels and young people in town. The group captured many animals, including two hundred of Abdul-Muttalib’s.
 
Meanwhile, Abreha sent an ultimatum to Quraish.

‘My King says he has come in peace’, the messenger declared. ‘My King’s only aim is to destroy the pagan Arabs’ place of worship. If you do not interfere you will be left alone, but if you try to defend it, beware for you will be crushed along with it’.

Then the messenger gave a frightening description of the King’s huge army, which, admittedly, was much larger and better equipped than all the Arab’s tribes combined strength.

Abdul-Muttalib, and some other prominent leaders, went to see Abreha. Abreha was informed before hand of the prestige and position of ‘Abdul-Muttalib. When he entered the king’s tent, Abreha rose from his throne, warmly welcomed him, and seated the visitor next to him on the carpet. After some pleasantries, Abdul-Muttalib requested Abreha to release his camels. Abreha was astonished. He said:

‘When my eyes fell upon you, I was so impressed by you that had you requested me to withdraw my army and go back to Himyar, I would have granted that request. But now, I have no respect for you. Why? Here I have come to demolish the House which is the religious center of yours and of your forefathers and the foundation of your prestige and respect in Arabia, and you say nothing to save it; instead, you ask me to return your few camels back to you?’

‘Abdul-Muttalib said: ‘I am the owner of the camels, and so I am responsible to get them back.  But this House has its own Owner who will surely protect it.’

Abreha was impressed by this reply. He ordered the camels to be released. Before he could start the siege of the Ka’bah the next day he fell terribly ill during the night.  The fever that he had felt a couple of days earlier, raged his body throughout the night, following by back pain and vomiting.  Just before he started passing in to oblivion at daybreak, Yakob noticed the first red pustule and realized that the king and his army were being plagued with smallpox.

Yacob was unaffected by the plague because his Bedouin friends had used the age-old prevention used among their tribes called ‘hitting the smallpox’ while he lived with them.  This is a process that involved the collection of fluid from a smallpox pustule and rubbing it into a cut made on the healthy person as a form of inoculation.

So he took over the command, and ordered the army to head back to Himyar, for fear that the local Arabs would decimate them while they were weakened.  Once they had made some distance from Mecca, Yakob erected camp and started treating Abreha and his officials with the Bedouin treatment he had learned in desert.

Yakob ordered all those displaying pustules to be divided by rank and put in ten tents.  Every inch of each tent was taken over by those afflicted by pustules; as many as thirty in a tent.  He then went from tent to tent steaming the dried willow tree barks he carried in his medical bag to act as painkiller.  Yakob knew that the virus would eventually spread through the throat and suffocate the patients, so he used conifer oil as decongestant.

Despite his best efforts, Yakob reported that he lost a few thousand of Abreha’s men before the recovered army reached Sa’ana.  When Abreha’s two sons heard the news, they quarantined the pockmarked and wretched lot, including their father, at a leper colony at the edge of town and took power in their own hands.

Islamic literature relates to the same battle as follows;

‘A dark cloud of small birds (known in Arabic as ababil) overshadowed the entire army of Abreha. Each bird had a few pebbles tucked away in its beak and claws, with which they bombarded the Christian army.  Abreha’s entire army was destroyed. Abreha himself was seriously wounded but managed to reach Himyar, where he died soon after’.

*****

This time it was our turn to wait for my beloved brother at the port of Adulis.  I spotted him the minute he stepped down onto the docks.  He was still attired in Arabic garments; just like the day I met him at the port in Himyar.  I leaned down and told my five-year-old granddaughter, ‘There he is’! That is your aunt Azeb’s favourite uncle Yakob, she keeps telling you about’.  My granddaughter Aster let go of my hand and went skipping down the quay into the hands of Yakob.

My nephew Meleake followed Aster. When Yakob put Aster down and held his son, his eyes were breaming with tears.  
My family’s faces and mine were awash with tears of joy this time – grateful that he was alive and that we were reunited once again.

Azeb wrote in her scroll that the Roman Cardinal Cesare Baronio officially recognized her second-cousin, Emperor Kaleb, as St. Elesbaan; for his protection of Christians in South Arabia.   His thirty-year rule was the most venerated and best documented among the Axumite dynasty.  She concluded, ‘I am glad to note that, apart from the Emperor, I and several other members of my family contributed in our different ways to the success of this period’.

Excerpt from Tarik;  A collection of short stories by Bethlehem Attfield.