Indaba, My Children: African Tribal History, Legends, Customs And Religious Beliefs. Vusamazulu Credo Mutwa
Shall be nothing but vagabonds and thieves!
By thieving and cunning you shall live to the end of time,
And never progress or rise above
What you are today.’
They fled wildly into the forest
And Amarava left the valley of Frogmen—
Soon to sink in the haze of legend;
She did not know just where she was going
And could not care less, for her pains
Became more acute and she longed for death,
But a Greater Power always thwarted
Her attempts at suicide.
For days and months she wandered aimlessly,
Sucking at the magic pain-killing root powder;
Then one day as she stood on a point of vantage
A gigantic hand gripped her smooth round shoulder!
She spun around and stood face to face
With the creature she thought she had murdered;
Her surprise had no bounds, of course,
When she recognised Odu, the man-made man.
Odu explained that while out on his hunt
He encountered the Great Mother who gave him a warning;
Having read Amarava’s mind and fathomed her shrewd plan,
She advised that Odu should feign a deep slumber.
Even as they spoke Amarava felt a deep gratitude
To be back with a sincere friend she knew;
She felt her pains vanish in the Seven Winds
And suddenly felt young and free again.
Odu snatched her up like a baby
And took off through the forest with her—
A terrible smile was fixed on his hideous face,
But much less hideous than Gorogo’s, thought she.
He did not stop until they reached the stockade
He had built around his new kraal;
In the biggest hut he laid her down
On a pile of lion skins and fed her tenderly.
Afterwards they went through the forest
Past a huge Idol of the Great Mother,
Which Odu had carved from sandstone,
And finally reached his canoes on the bank of the river.
She saw some poles protruding from the water
And recognised the site of the hut she had burnt;
Odu dived in and swam to these poles
And from one of them recovered a mysterious article.
This was a delicately carved piece of ebony,
Shaped like a paddle for steering a canoe;
The patterns and figures intrigued her much
And she wished to know their meaning.
Odu gave her no explanation
As he knew she would soon find out—
Back at the Idol he suddenly did
What he had never done before!
He slipped his arm about her
And dragged her across the altar—
With the specially carved paddle
He gave her a healthy spanking.
The spanking was interrupted by the silvery voice of Ma,
Who suddenly appeared on the scene;
She suggested that Odu had given her enough
And should save some of her for the love-mat.
‘So you are back at long, long last, I see,
And I hope you have now thoroughly learnt, my child,
That no one should try to circumvent
The express commands of the gods;
And now I shall expect you to carry out
My instructions as already given;
And you, Odu, must never hesitate to use that handy object
When she starts with her tricks again.’
With this the Goddess slowly vanished
While the two of them stooped in prayer;
Together they returned through the forest
And two butterflies settled on the altar.
THE BUD SLOWLY OPENS
The legends tell us that after her return
Amarava the Immortal, most beautiful,
Lived happily with Odu, her lord,
For a hundred thousand years;
And during this period she presented him
With five thousand sturdy sons and daughters.
The Wise Men of the Tribes also relate
That Amarava did not give birth to her young,
But that like the earliest Amarire people,
She laid crystal eggs that hatched in a month
And adulthood was reached in the space of two years.
On reaching puberty their parents turned them out,
In carefully chosen pairs to fend for themselves;
Soon they were grandparents to the ultimate power
Of no less than twice times ten million souls.
What did these new people—
These so-called Second People look like?
We have it from legend that they resembled exactly
The present-day Bantu – my children.
Some were as black as a much-used pot;
Some were brown and even yellow-brown;
Some were tall as a stockade gatepost
And some were as short as our favourite thornbush.
There were types as thin as bullrush reeds
And others as fat as the proverbial thief’s bundle.
Some were idiots—
From dimwits they ranged
Down to utter nitwits;
Very few were truly wise!
In short, my children, they exactly resembled
The puzzling muddle of present day humanity!
Gone forever was the uniform appearance
Of the First People who could have achieved perfection
If they had been properly governed.
Not in appearance alone they differed,
But also in mind and heart and soul;
Where there had been perfect equality,
We now encounter diversity.