Today’s post is a Valentine’s follow-up to Bleeding Heart and is filled with love.
Of course she has a name. Several names. Bloodwood. Dragon bloodwood. Pterocarpus angolensis. In Kenya, Mninga.1 That’s what I’ll call her since Kenya is where she lived.
I was told she was invasive. That her gum-like substance – her sap – her blood – makes her wood “unusable for furniture.”
In fact, Mninga is indigenous to Kenya. She is both useful and magical. Her hard, red wood with intricate patterns is coveted for high-quality furniture. Her red sap can be used in cosmetics. Red dye.
Locals know — have known — she possesses healing properties. Medicine-tree-woman.
Indeed, science has finally caught up with indigenous wisdom – and we now know in multiple ways of knowing – that Mninga’s red sap has antimicrobial properties. It is used as an astringent to treat wounds.
Even though she will not stand again or be reborn as a circle of stumps shaping an outdoor classroom, my tree-sister’s wood will not go to waste. I believe her limbs will be burned so others may be nourished. Her body will transform into the gift of fire so that human-people may be warm. Like The Giving Tree, she has given everything of herself.
And still, I am hurting from our collective loss which stretches far beyond utility. Mninga will no longer shade the street for walkers or provide homes and food for birds and butterflies. Vervet monkeys will no longer chatter and swing from her branches. Her wise eyes won’t look over us anymore. The wind will not pass among her leaves.
Still, her spirit remains and I’m reminded of it each time I jog past her stump.
The other day she searched within herself and gave still one more gift — wisdom posed as a question. She asked me to find a better fate for other fallen tree-people.
So, yesterday and today, I went to see about some tree-people. Her story — our story — continues.
❤️,
Becca
Information about my tree sister and the photo above came from Chic African Culture Africa Factbook, “Trees That Bleed - Kenyan Mninga Wood.”