THE LEGEND OF KIWAKAAZI

Africa is such a beautiful continent. It is the home of beautiful people and culture, diverse languages and nature’s greatest gifts to mankind. A long time ago, this continent set the stage for the greatest story ever to be told. How do I know this?

I was there! I witnessed the Saharaifa (Saharan Civilization). I witnessed how its Western people harnessed the power of the Sahar (sun) from Saharama (sun god) to develop and grow in ways that rival modern civilization. But most importantly, I witnessed the life of the three men; three men who mysteriously bear the same name. They were not brothers and they never sat in the same room throughout their earthly sojourn. Yet, their names have been forever etched in the sands of time.

I made a promise to someday tell their stories to the world. I promised I will not leave out the action, drama, mystery, adventure and love; yes love that depicted the lives of these men. And the time has finally come to fulfill that promise. Call it fiction; call it a fairytale; call it whatever you want but I simply call it…. Give me a second to think...  I simply insist it all happened and I was there!  

It all began when… No! I think this will sound much better.

Emerging from the bushes of Nomposuro (dark and cursed forest) after a loud thunder and lightning strike on a rainy night was a dark, lanky figure. His skin was dark and had been darkened some more with mud. His head was big and had been made even bigger with his long puffy black afro hair. Only his eyes shone brightly like a speck of light in the dark.

 Panting and breathing heavily, he decided to catch his breath. It was dark, as dark as the darkest night ever imagined. He bent over placing his palms on his knees - still breathing heavily. It continued to rain and thunder and lightning struck a couple of times. He heard it again…

The roar he had been running away from. The roar that sends icy chills instantly down his spine every time he hears it — it never gets old. It is back and getting closer. He was very tired and felt sore all over. He tried to think but the only thought he could process was “run, run for your life!” He stood upright immediately. He looked left and then right. He saw an opening on his right and run towards it with all his strength.

Nomposuro was a dark place. The trees towered so high above the ground that, the clouds hanging in the sky could not be easily seen. Then there was the issue of rain — rain that fell so hard that not even the great canopy cast by the tall trees could prevent the young man from getting a beating. He could barely see a thing and the path he took was not straight forward.

He ran swinging his skinny arms and moving his skinny legs as fast as he could. He grabbed a tree trunk with his left palm and lowered his head to avoid a branch and left his fingerprints on it. He jumped over a root protruding from the soil and landed in a muddy surface leaving his foot print in it. He continued to run; running for his life.

So he ran after he had received a few slaps from the tall branches of the trees that dominated Nomposuro. And he run even after he swallowed leaves and munched on a few bugs. He still ran after he stumbled and fell over the big roots that covered the floor of the forest. How could he stop running after he had slipped and fallen on the wet slippery ground of Nomposuro? Yes! He ran; he run for his life.

 He had been running for a while and the roar seemed to have disappeared. He was not sure but he felt he was not being pursued anymore. He turned to verify this while still running. It took only a split second.

Bang! The young man’s head had collided with a tree branch. He fell flat on his back; once again in mud. He just lay there; the rise and fall of his stomach portraying just how erratic his breathing was. His eyes were opened. He gazed at the sky or rather the canopy cast by the tall trees. The rain was not letting up. He watched the rain drops escape the canopy and strike his skin and face. Slowly the mud was being washed away revealing the dark skin, face and beautiful bead necklace that hung around the neck of the traveller.

He was lying there; motionless for a while. True! He was afraid; true! He did not know what was coming, how big it was or what kind of arsenals it possessed to devour him. But one thing was certain in his mind; whatever was coming for him had no intention of giving up. He had two options; face whatever is coming or die from stumbling and falling. All ends in death, anyway.

He felt different, stronger perhaps. Something was spreading through his body. “What is this feeling?” He questioned. His pupils dilated. His mind felt strong. For once he was not being bullied by fear anymore. He smiled. “I will face this thing and if it ends in death, so be it,” he whispered. He got up from the mud and knelt on one knee.

The intensity of the rain was slowly reducing but not the thunder strikes. Thunder struck and frightened the traveller. He leapt from where he knelt like a toad over a wide distance and embraced the trunk of a big tree. While holding on tightly to the tree, he sighed. “That was close,” he thought.

He had made the narrowest of escapes. Lightning struck where he knelt and would have killed him if he had not responded to his fear and leapt like a toad. Perhaps fear was not a bad thing after all. He was about to descend the tree when he noticed that he was hugging one of six trees that grew in a perfect circle. Short creeping plants have completely covered the floor of this circle. There were also a few dead leaves and branches on the floor. He descended the tree and entered the circle surrounded by six trees.

He had just entered some open space. He spat a few times to get mud out of his mouth and tried removing the chunks of mud off his skin using his fingers. The rain fell with less intensity, yet the few drops that touched his skin went a long way to wash some of the filth off his skin.

He heard the roar again and started to move in a circular path holding out his arms as if ready to fight. He made a fist with his dainty fingers. He continued to move in a small circle jumping in fear once in a while whenever he heard movement in the bushes. Bravery is not something one acquires overnight. It is either you are born with it or you learned it over a long period of time. Something this young traveller was now getting to know.

The human mind cannot be trusted. One moment it is strong and the next it is weak. It presents man with pictures and scenarios that are sometimes more real than reality itself. It distracts man in thinking and makes him forget his aim. The human mind is the devil and if not controlled can lead one to his doom.

The young man begun to think, what if there were more out there? In his mind he could see images of these great monsters with their long claws and large teeth tearing him apart limb from limb with no mercy. He could see himself helpless and lying in a pool of his own blood stirring in the blood-filled eyes of his predators while they gruesomely feed on his internal organs. Now, they are probably hiding around him — four, five or even more of them, stalking him. Very soon, they will pounce on him and before he could respond he would be a goner for sure.

He was lost in his thoughts for what to him was just a moment and yet in that moment everything changed. He heard a crackle sound; it sounded like something or someone had stepped on, and, broken a twig or branch from right behind him. He was turning to see what it was.

 It all happened too quickly. It all happened in a flash but he did catch a glimpse of it; the source of the roar. The dreadful look on his face was enough evidence. It struck him in the chest and threw him across the circle. He collided with a big tree and fell flat on his face.