The fire is not yours to light
Your father dies. Or your mother. And within hours, before the shock has finished moving through your body, the logistics arrive: who will perform the rituals, who will hold the kush grass, who will pour the water. If you have a brother, the answer is already decided. If you don't, the family begins making calls, a male cousin, an uncle, sometimes a hired priest's male relative, because the tradition requires a son, and you are not one.
