Water's Child

Unseen by human eye I witnessed the birth of Aster Solomon in a tiny, smoke-filled hut in the remote Ethiopian Highlands.

The Origin had chosen to seed this human and had chosen a birthplace of significance for her species: the place where primates first stood upright to embark on a four million year journey culminating in Mankind.

Her arrival ended an age-old wait.

The sun was setting outside and the only light to illuminate the tukul – hut - filtered through a crude makeshift doorway cut into the mud daub walling. A stream of low-angled sunlight hit a choking cocktail of smoky vapour that coiled above the central, primitive hearth. Glittering particles danced in the air before ascending to coat the underside of the thatched conical roof with a lethal blanket of smog.

“I must find Michael and tell him he has a sister. Praise God that she is healthy,” said Tekle.

He leaned over his wife, Lemlem, and kissed the forehead of his newly born daughter. It seemed to Tekle that the baby was glowing. He dismissed the notion as quickly as it entered his head and decided it must be a trick of the evening light.

“Go, husband.”

With a dismissive wave of her hand Lemlem released Tekle from his duty and sent the relieved man scuttling into the cold evening air.

Her glow was real. Aster’s brain had instinctively reacted to the change from the warm nurturing environment of her mother’s womb to an environment altogether more hostile. The faint aura that engulfed her body was a by-product from the formation of a thin protective layer of water over the surface of her skin.

Lemlem had sensed her pregnancy from the first embryonic cell formation. At just nineteen she had already given birth to two boys, Michael and Genet. The joy of cradling her new daughter was tainted with the grief she still felt for the loss of Genet who had died at the age of two.

The rains had failed in 2025 and yet another awful famine had crept across the land. It had been a desperate time. Lemlem could not adequately sustain her children with the meagre food available from their failing farm and Genet’s immune system had become compromised as his frail malnourished body struggled to survive. Eventually he had succumbed to infection from the water-borne bacteria that flourished in the filthy water he drank. Death came quickly.

Lemlem had found solace in her prayers to Mary the Holy Mother. Like most Amhara they were devout Christians of the Ethiopian Orthodox Church. At the heart of their faith was a bold God of the Old Testament and, although Genet’s death seemed unfathomable, Lemlem and Tekle believed the drought and famine that had claimed his life were sent as punishment for the sins of the Amhara.

She had prayed to be given another child to help her cope with the loss and within a single day of that prayer she felt the reply growing within her body.

Famine and the punishing hard work expected of an Ethiopian farmer’s wife had taken their toll on Lemlem but the spark of Aster’s life had ignited a change. She had become strong and fit and her spirits lifted; instinctively she knew that the baby was special. She hoped and expected that the God of her faith would speak to her and reveal His purpose.

Her God remained silent.

I had monitored each intricate process within the human embryo as water molecules orchestrated the development of every new cell in Aster’s body. The culmination of this effort was the construction of a human brain that would have no equal. One hundred billion neurons were crafted, each with twenty thousand synaptic connections. Every point along the immense neural highway was lined with water eager to carry out her will. Aster’s clarity of thought would be astonishing and even within her mother’s womb her thought processes advanced far beyond a normal human baby.

The Origin could hardly have selected more austere conditions for Aster. The tiny village of Bulamba lay hidden away in the geological folds of the Ethiopian Highlands. Numerous farming villages peppered the terraced sides of many deep valleys cut into the ancient basaltic bedrock. The high ridges between the valleys made the region remote and throughout history it had been a place of exile from the world, either by accident or purpose. The tracks that linked each settlement were rough and tortuous. The nearest all-weather road was twenty miles away separated by several severe and rugged peaks and plunging valleys.

For many years the Amhara had struggled to continue their traditional way of life in this beautiful, cruel landscape. The rains frequently failed or they came with such force that they stripped the ground of soil and left deep fissures in the surface.

The world of the Solomon family was an extreme contrast to the technological world that raged only a few hundred miles away. The Amhara remained primitive and relied on the same technical skills that had been used for the previous two thousand years.

On the evening of Aster’s birth, Helfi was by the side of Lemlem. Helfi was Lemlem’s aunty and also the appointed midwife for Bulamba. She had also witnessed the aura that surrounded Aster during those first few minutes after the birth. Like Lemlem she was devoutly religious and their shared belief had strengthened the relationship between them.

Helfi had noticed how strong Lemlem had become during her pregnancy and one day Lemlem had confided in her aunty that she believed she was carrying a special child. Helfi had thought the idea wishful thinking but she did not attempt to dissuade her niece from her conviction because she believed it was the hope of a special child that gave Lemlem her strength. She had feared that Lemlem would never recover after Genet’s death. But now there was no mistake, the baby had an aura that lingered for several minutes after her birth,

“She is the most beautiful baby Lemlem. Did you see how she shone with light? Just like the paintings on the Church walls in Lalibela,” said Helfi.

Lemlem had seen the glow but as much as the Amhara were religious they were also superstitious. If news of Aster’s aura reached the rest of the village there was a danger they might think her new baby a witch.

“She is special and I am blessed to be her mother. But I am frightened that the Elders may think she is a witch or she is Buda and has the evil eye. Helfi, please don’t tell anyone about what you saw.”

“As God is my witness I will not tell a living soul.”

Helfi gripped Lemlem’s hand until the fear in her eyes subsided. Her niece was right, if the village knew that Lemlem’s baby was different they would think the worst. If the crops failed or a child became sick or an ox died, someone would say that Lemlem’s daughter caused it. The consequences could be devastating. She had even heard about a girl in the village of Mebe who was killed because she was suspected of being a witch.

Lemlem looked down on the face of the tiny baby she was cradling. Helfi had cleaned away the biological froth of the birth and wrapped the infant in a white cotton shawl. The baby’s eyes were wide open and met the gaze of her mother. Lemlem smiled and watched her daughter mimic the same expression on her own face. She knew this was not normal for a newly born baby.

“I will call her Aster, which means ‘hidden’. Aster was a great Queen from the Old Testament. Yes, she will be called Aster Solomon,” Lemlem announced.

The livestock that lived in the village were more sensitive to the properties of water than humans and they had sensed a new energy when Aster was born. Responding to their innate curiosity the donkeys, goats, oxen and chickens had quietly ambled towards the Solomon’s house in an apparent act of homage to the baby. They were curious at the changes they felt in the atmosphere and their bodies. As they crowded around the entrance of the tukul, Helfi was once again reminded of the paintings she had seen in the churches of Lalibela depicting the birth of Christ.

But no sooner had the animals gathered the scene was shattered by a four year old stick-wielding Michael Solomon crashing through the animal congregation and sending livestock running in all directions.

“Michael, Michael, be careful with that stick,” Lemlem warned as the breathless boy skidded to a halt on the dusty earth floor of the hut. “Look, look, come here and see your new sister. She is called Aster and she is very, very beautiful.”

Michael dropped his stick and slowly edged towards the bundled baby until he was peering into her tiny face.

“It is your job to look after your younger sister and protect her from danger,” said Lemlem.

The beautiful large dark eyes of Aster gazed up at her smiling brother. Once again she met his gaze and matched Michael’s smile.

“I promise I will protect my sister for you, Mama,” Michael declared as earnestly as he could.

From the start it was Aster who would protect Michael and all her family.

The bond with her family was forged immediately and the water of their bodies began to resonate with her own tiny body. It was instinctive and beautiful.

Helfi smiled as the boy stroked the head of his sister. Aster seemed to giggle and a shaft of angled sunlight cut through the darkness of the tukul and revealed peculiar convection currents in the smoke above the group. It appeared as though the breeze had formed a gentle swirling vortex at the peak of the conical roof that dropped toward Aster. Helfi dismissed it as a breath of evening air that had swept through the doorway and, unable to escape, had spiralled around the ceiling of the hut.

It was yet another image that suggested there was something special about the life of Aster Solomon.