Indaba, My Children: African Tribal History, Legends, Customs And Religious Beliefs. Vusamazulu Credo Mutwa
I will show you . . .’ and with these very words
A huge silver bowl filled with magic fluid
Emerged as from nowhere and hovered near him.
‘Come around . . . come closer, all of you . . .’
At which command they gathered closer
While the Emperor instructed the bowl to rotate
And to stir up the magic fluid.
After the fluid had settled again
All of them saw a fantastic scene,
A scene of a mighty, most terrible tree
Embracing a frightfully beautiful girl.
The woman had eyes of gold,
A silvery form and a chest
Laden with four heavy breasts,
Each with an emerald nipple.
‘Lo and behold . . .’ cried the Great Emperor,
‘By force of Arms I shall wrest her from that Tree
And become the Master of All Creation!’
And thus, not many days later,
The dwellers in the great floating city,
Called Amak-Habaret, the Empire’s capital,
Saw a most incredible scene:
Vast armies of giant insects of metal,
Each bristling with savage stings,
Serrated mandibles and razor-sharp claws,
Poured from the ‘Palace of Creation’.
They first assembled in the great Royal Square,
Received one sharp order, then completely vanished
Vanished to emerge in the Spirit World—
A sacrilegious war had begun!
By gazing into the magic bowl’s fluid,
They saw the vast hordes converge
Upon the Tree of Life
On the plains of the Spirit World.
They saw ravening bolts of sheet lightning
Lash from the eyes of the Tree,
Obliterating thousands and thousands
Of the metal monstrosities.
But they came in their metal hordes
To be slashed by the branches of the Tree.
It vanquished more than half its attackers
And that was as much as the Tree could achieve.
On they came in their countless numbers
And completely overpowered the Tree—
Eternity wept in shame!
Za-Ha-Rrellel shrieked with abandoned delight
As four of his metal slaves
Tore the Goddess from the Great Tree’s hold
And bore her away in triumph.
The rest of the metal monstrosities—
Having achieved their atrocious objective—
Momentarily had their attention diverted
And were entirely annihilated
By the wounded though undaunted Tree.
With great expectation the Emperor watched through the bowl
The four and their prey cross the plains of the Spirit World,
Till they vanished and emerged with their silvery burden
In the square in front of his Royal Abode.
The dwellers of the floating city came in their thousands
To gaze at the Mother of Men
With her fantastic, most radiant beauty,
Lying on the shining, golden square.
They stared with the wide-eyed stares of the curious
But they had no reverence in their hearts,
For long since had they lost their appreciation
And reverence for Holy Things.
To them the silvery form on the ground
Was an animate object from another world—
Another Plane of Existence that only tickled
Their vulgar curiosity.
But even as they stared
They were dying,
And dying they were—
Utterly foully!
The radiant heat of the sacred Goddess
Was blistering the skins off their bodies.
One by one dropped, and those that could, stampeded
Leaving a trail of death in their wake.
The Goddess rose slowly and clasped her hands:
‘My children! My children – you whom I bore with such pain,
Doomed are you, my children . . .’ And with these words
A mighty earthquake shook the world . . .
The scowling clouds
Lashed the heaving earth
With rain and hail
And sheet lightning,
While underworld fires
Burst from cracks in the Earth—
Turning the flooding waters
Into boiling cauldrons
Of molten mud
And roaring steam.
Whole continents vanished under steaming waters
And new ones appeared from below;
Great plains tilted on their sides
And capsized like wooden boats,
Forever entombing countless millions
Of animals and men.
Howling hurricanes ravaged the steaming earth
From north to south, from east to west.
Great mountain ranges split asunder
And collapsed with nauseating sounds.
The shining cities of the Amarire
Were swamped with boiling water
And steam so superheated . . .
It melted metal and rock.
But most dreadful of all was the ultimate fate
Of the greatest city of Amak-Harabeti,
The Empire’s glittering capital.
When they witnessed their masters in flight
The Bjaauni felt the blissful kiss
Of the Spirit of Rebellion within their hearts!
They rose in their countless thousands,
Led by Odu the Killer;
They fell upon their panic-ridden overlords
And killed them with a great delight.
They sacked the city from end to end,
Disembowelling and cruelly