Neither of the two had noticed how quickly time was flying. They had come to an agreement that before they attack Mbada, they unfetter a few more villages under his oppression.
They encountered the most gut-wrenching situations in their conquest but nevertheless, they triumphed over them. In every village they passed through, they gained support from the inhabitants. The Shona now had a trustworthy liberator who was open to sacrifice his life for their freedom. The Ndebele too began to rally behind Brahmuhn and were willing to place their rivalry on hold since they now had one common enemy. Brahmuhn knew that it would not be long before the same atrocities that the other villages were going through reached Chaponda Village.Three weeks had gone by like the blink of a day. They both missed their families very much but they also knew that in order to keep their families safe, they had to terminate the threat which was Chief Mbada.As they stood and stared at Matandawhen he and his father had come home from a hunt. He would throw all his cares away and flutter into her arms. He felt so safe in her embrace. She had always been his source of comfort.Chief Mbada had what looked like an uncomfortable frown on his face. Nothing had changed about him whatsoever, besides a few wrinkles of age. From his threatening physique to that same smell of arrogance that would sting anyone’s nose when they were in his presence, all were still intact. Behind him were Ngoni and Bhonzo, his bodyguards. As a child, Brahmuhn had seen them as gigantic deities, but all he saw now were two jokes with different complexions.‘Well, well, well. If it isn’t the “Great And Mighty Brahmuhn”,’ Chief Mbada chuckled. Even with age, his voice had not changed either but gained more boldness. ‘Brahmuhn, the “mermaid slayer”, the “nightmare of zvidhoma”,’ he chuckled some more. ‘Let me not bore y
It was as if she was embracing a son who had risen from the dead. ‘Oh, Tawana! Tawana, mwanangu (my child)! Oh mwanangu how I have missed you so much!!!’He could no longer control himself either and without restraint, and for the first time in his life, he permitted tears to run down his cheeks. He felt so young and happy in her arms. That warmth, that motherly love that had kept his hope alive for so long. After a well-deserved moment of tears, he managed to compose himself. ‘Mother, mother where is father?’She could not stop sniffling, ‘Oh, my son, my son. This wicked man, this wicked monster speared him that same night…that same night you ran away. He first had him whipped for what seemed like hours by Ngoni and Bhonzo, but even then, your father continued to confess his undying love for you and me and how he would get his vengeance. Mbada then speared him in the ribs and even then, your father refused to die. That is when…that’s when…’ she broke down in tears again.
To Brahmuhn, the feast felt like deja vu. It was like re-living the marriage of his mother to Chief Mbada those fourteen years ago. The ear-piercing ululations, countless and tempting foods and of course, inevitably, the drunkards scattered everywhere mumbling inaudible yet irritating mumbo-jumbo to each other or passing rude jeers to passing women. Cheetah looked deep in conversation with a man a short distance from where Brahmuhn was sitting. Brahmuhn had no interest whatsoever in traditional beer but rather, he was obsessed with his mbanje. However, on this particular night he was not in the mood for a smoke. He had decided to allow his anger to take control of his mind. He was sitting by a fire in the company of Bhonzo, Ngoni and two other men. One of them looked like he was Chief Mbada’s advisor. The four men were sharing a gourd of beer whilst Brahmuhn’s eyes were concentrating on the flames before him. He could not stop picturing his father’s death. The painfu
The following day, Brahmuhn and Chief Mbada were taking a stroll outside the compound, walking through the village. ‘You see all of this, Brahmuhn?’ said Mbada, ‘All this wealth and beauty that is Matanda Village? This is the work of my hands!’ He beat his massive chest in pride. ‘I’m sure your people deserve credit too, right? I mean, there is no chiefdom without the people,’ Brahmuhn said. Chief Mbada laughed disdainfully. The laugh was so hoarse, arrogant and annoying that Brahmuhn fought every fiber in his body to slap Chief Mbada in the face. ‘Do not be so naïve, Brahmuhn!’ he gave him a friendly yet hard slap on his back. ‘The people are only there to compliment the works of the chief; to acknowledge his excellence. Why do you think Mwari created us in the first place? To add value to his excellence through the acknowledgement and appreciation of his power!’ ‘I do not acknowledge any deity by that name, but all I know
Chief Mbada looked threatening and voracious like a cornered leopard as he now stood ten feet from Brahmuhn. The entire village had made a large circle around them. Mbada was breathing heavily. His eyes were like that of a lion, engrossed with both hatred and disgust for Brahmuhn. ‘Ngoni! Bhonzo! Kill this bastard!’ he ordered them without even taking his eye off his enemy.The two brutes shuffled their feet hopelessly in the dust. ‘But…but, my chief,’ Ngoni started.He grabbed them from behind their necks and pushed them towards Brahmuhn as easily as little children. ‘Kill him or I kill you!’Two of the Gorivas threw their spears at Ngoni and Bhonzo’s feet.They hesitantly picked the spears up. They seemed to be actually taking their time. ‘My…my chief…’ Bhonzo this time.‘KILL HIM!!!’Without thinking, they rushed towards Brahmuhn, waving their spears in the air yel
As soon as the Ndebele had driven off the Matanda warriors, they returned singing loudly in their tongue.The remaining Matanda villagers cowered in fear when they saw the Ndebele approach.‘Do no harm to them,’ Brahmuhn told the Ndebele warriors. ‘These…these are my people.’ He fell onto the ground.‘Tawana!’ Tsitsi raised his head up into her arms.‘My chief!’ Cheetah also shouted in concern.Leading the Ndebele warriors was Bhekumuzi, the chief of the village Brahmuhn had saved from the ntokolishi (goblins). He came and stood before Brahmuhn with the entire army behind him. He smiled. ‘I guess my debt is paid, Brahmuhn.’From within the Ndebele army emerged Shumba and Tortoise.Tortoise stepped forward. ‘My chief, word of how you liberated a lot of the Shona villages and the Ndebele villages in your journey spread like wildfire. You are now a hero among both the Shona and t
Their coarse, black skins could hardly bear the heat of the African sun. They walked with little words spoken to each other.The weather was unbearable and it limited their speech. They had drunk water from the well a few minutes ago but it was not long before the intense heat reminded them of the summer thirst of Zimbabwe. This was partly the hardship of Bulawayo. Greater problems abound, what with the war between the Shona tribes and the Ndebele tribes over land, celebration was always short-lived especially in their village: the Matanda Village.Tawana was trying to keep up with his father, Farai Masimba, who was carrying an impala across his shoulders walking ahead of him. Now at fourteen years of age, Tawana had actually seen his father hunt different kinds of animals like impalas, rabbits and the elusive duiker. Any animal bigger than the impala or the duiker was impossible for Farai. He was now thirty-eight years old. He was a thin but strong man with sparse stran
He grabbed her hand and clasped it in hers. It felt rough, like sand fresh and seasoned in a drought. The mark was still there. The mark she had hidden for almost half her life. Once greeted by people, when one saw the mark, the conversation would become serious. Tawana also had the same mark. The mark was a tattoo at the back of their right hand. It was a small symbol of the sun with a smile, a nose but no eyes. He had always asked her about their tattoo and why it was only the two of them who had it in the village. As usual, she would avoid answering the question which made him think of it as being of some importance. ‘Mother, please…’ he insisted, ‘…what’s wrong?’She had now turned silent, staring blankly into the dying smoke of the fire.‘Tawana..,’ his father called him, ‘come give me a hand.’Hesitant at first, he decided to get up and join his father and they began skinning the impala together.‘Father, I’m beginning to worry about her.’‘Your mother is a heal