Indaba, My Children: African Tribal History, Legends, Customs And Religious Beliefs. Vusamazulu Credo Mutwa
And Odu raised his revolting apology for a face,
Groping sightlessly with deepest bloodshot eyes.
‘Do you see this female here Odu – do you see her?’
‘Yes . . . Odu sees . . . Female of hateful masters.’
‘I give her to you – take good care of her;
With her you shall once again populate the world.’
Odu’s animal mind could not grasp all this,
But he humbly indicated agreement, faithful slave that he was;
For once in his artificial life he tried to think for himself,
But became much more confused than he ever was before.
His bulky body was quaking with pure terror
And he felt the urge to escape as fast and as far
As his massive legs could carry him.
He knew he had killed Za-Ha-Rrellel,
The Big One of the hated masters,
And very many other Amarire,
But he was only completely puzzled
At not being punished for all he did.
On the contrary, now he is lovingly asked
To take good care of the last survivor!
The Goddess suddenly conjured a massive net
Into which she bundled both terrified creatures;
On regaining their senses they were clinging to each other
As they plunged through the waves on a robot fish.
The giant city capsized and sank behind them,
But onward dashed the artificial fish
Through restless waves – ploughing a foaming path
To safety beyond the horizon.
The sea was still filthy, having just devoured
Whole continents and millions of beasts and men;
Cruel and restless, and still scalding hot
While above, the clouds continued to grumble—
Vomiting forth bolt after bolt of thunderous lightning.
Amarava cried out aloud as the realisation struck her
That well and truly she was the last living human being;
For three whole days she cried without ceasing
While forward they sped through seas, now slowly calming.
Night fell and the moon smiled weakly
Upon a destructed earth;
Dancing waves turned to liquid silver
And still the great fish went on—
Eastward and eastward, without a pause.
The sun rose in all its torrid splendour—
The Song of Day whispered a wordless melody
Over guilty waters and naked mountains—
Swept clean of animal and human life.
Now and again Amarava saw
Rocks rearing above the foaming waters—
All that were left of a continent she knew,
Now drowned beneath the passionless seas.
Amarava lost, count of the number of days
That floated by like migrating birds
And was conscious only of a weakness she felt
In both her body and soul.
She felt like a plant which had lost its roots—
Like driftwood on the waters of time;
Naked and helpless in a mad Universe—
She wept till she could weep no more.
Loud within the vaults of her mind
Was the thought that the world she had known
And loved, for she knew no better,
Was dead forever – and Future loomed as an ugly ghost.
The poem of Amarire had been chanted
Through to its very last verse
And now the drums of Fate are sounding
The beginning of yet another poem.
The parent plant had withered and died
But from its mould it cast forth a seed,
Soon to arise as a fresh new plant,
For such is the law of Nature.
BETWEEN GOROGO AND ODU
The mighty fish had nosed up
The mouth of a mighty river,
Which future generations were to call
The river of the Bu-Kongo.
It paused long enough to permit the weary wanderers
To alight on its grassy banks with a splash.
Now it was evening of the second day
Since they had stood on solid ground
And Amarava was lying in the cool interior
Of a hut which Odu had built.
This hut stood on tall strong poles,
Sunk into the mud of the river,
And she had a magnificent view
Of the dull silver streak with approaching dusk.
She could see across the vast stretch of water
The frowning forests on the opposite bank,
And a canoe, with Odu returning home from a hunt.
The forest was alive with all kinds of sound
From that of water birds among the reeds
To the distant roaring of lions—
Boldly challenging the approaching night.
The fact that she was in a part of the world
Which miraculously had survived destruction—
Ruled by beasts and undefiled by man,
Did not interest Amarava at all.
She was still dazed and could not care less
Whether the sun rose in the West
And set in the North, as the Wise Ones often say.
She was fighting a fierce battle with herself
And her soul was a reeking cauldron of emotions;
Her greatest problem was whether she should
Yield her beautiful self to the monstrous Odu.
Great was her hatred of this sub-human ape,
But equally great was her fear of incurring
The Goddess’s displeasure on breaking her oath
On which future humanity depended.
But human instincts are often much stronger
Than a thousand commands from heaven;
And not for the sake