Indaba, My Children: African Tribal History, Legends, Customs And Religious Beliefs. Vusamazulu Credo Mutwa

Indaba, My Children: African Tribal History, Legends, Customs And Religious Beliefs - Vusamazulu Credo Mutwa


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mighty mound of rock and clay and sand

      From the bottom of the lake

      And he rolled it into a mighty ball,

      Greater in size than Killima-Njaro itself.

      Then in one lightning movement

      Of all his branches combined,

      He hurled this formidable missile

      Skyward at the object of his love,

      Now almost one with the stars.

      Straight and true went the soaring ball

      And the next thing the fugitive Goddess felt

      Was a great blow on the back of her silvery head;

      And as she plunged through the air,

      Limp and unconscious, but still of unearthly beauty—

      The great ugly tree spread its manifold arms

      To save her in her headlong fall—

      ‘My dearest beloved,’ he gurgled.

      The great ball rebounded from the Goddess’s head

      And went into orbit as the moon of today,

      And the Great Spirit in his Almighty wisdom

      With radiance declared it the Guardian of Love,

      To regulate the Love of Gods,

      And of Men and beasts and birds and fishes yet to come.

      Today all the Tribes of this Dark Continent

      Respect the power of the Holy Missile

      And its influence upon all our lives and love.

      Drums still beat and most secret rituals are performed

      In dark forests in honour of that missile

      Which helped to restore the very first marriage

      Between our Goddess Ma and our Most Sacred Tree,

      The Tree of Life.

      Even today, as in all ages past,

      The moon makes lovers seek each other’s arms

      And wives the company

      Of their children’s fathers.

      Aieeee! Great is the power of the moon—

      And who dares to doubt it?

      Lo! thus sing the Holy Singers of Kariba

      Whenever the full moon rises

      And turns the timeless Zambesi into a dazzling serpent

      Of shimmering liquid silver and gold:—

      ‘Oh missile which through the starry sky

      At fleeting Ma the Tree of Life let fly,

      Shed still on earth thy heatless silver light

      And let all things feel Love’s consuming might.

      Shoot burning darts into the lion’s soul

      Make him forget to stalk the zebra foal.

      And turn him back to where, beneath the trees

      His mate awaits, and there to find release

      From unpleasant anguish. Bid the warring king

      Forget awhile his bloody lance and cling

      To his beloved of the pointed breast.

      Command the North, the South, the East and the West

      To pause from war and thieving, and to LOVE!’

      BEHOLD THE FIRST IS BORN!

      After her capture

      The Tree of Life held the Goddess fast

      Never to let her escape again;

      And it came about one day

      That movements occurred within her,

      Movements which increased with the passage of time,

      Much to her fear and distress.

      At long last, after a thousand years,

      The Goddess felt a sudden tearing pain

      That prompted her to cry out suddenly

      And writhe in anguish in her mineral husband’s tentacles.

      The first cruel pains were followed by others—

      A third and fourth and the glittering voice of the Goddess

      Rang loudly across the plains

      To rebound against the stunned distant mountains.

      The foolish Tree of Life not understanding,

      Thought his bride was trying another escape,

      So he held her more tightly in his manifold arms,

      Greatly increasing her pain.

      As time went on the intensity of her suffering

      Increased twofold, and after fifty agonising years

      Turned so utterly unbearable that she freed herself

      From the Tree of Life’s endearing embrace,

      And wriggled and rolled on the barren earth

      In efforts to ease her inexplicable agony.

      Such was her suff’ring, and desp’rate her efforts,

      That with self-hypnosis she counted the stars.

      E’en today many Tribes have the saying:

      ‘To count the very stars in pain.’

      The first father, the Tree of Life, kept watch,

      With typical helplessness

      As his mate writhed and wailed through her birth pains.

      But at long, long last the Great Goddess

      Was relieved from her hideous pain,

      And the first mighty nation of flesh and blood,

      A countless number of human beings, was born.

      And in their multitudes they spread

      To populate the barren Ka-Lahari.

      Meanwhile, however, the strangest change came over the Tree of Life;

      Green buds burst from its writhing limbs

      And clouds of seeds emerged and fell upon the rocky plains.

      Wherever they struck the ground they shot out roots

      Into the stubborn rock and barren sand,

      Breaking through to reach some moisture

      And soon all manner of plants grew forth—

      A creeping carpet of lush living green.

      Soon mighty forests covered the earth,

      Contending with the mountains themselves.

      Howling winds and sheets of rain

      And roots of forest trees

      Worked hand in hand to mould the craggy mountains

      Into undulating plains.

      Soon after all this effort the Tree of Life

      Bore living, snarling, howling animal fruit.

      From its widespread branches they fell with a thud

      On the grassy ground below,

      And scampered off into the forests


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