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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she spat

      In a donga disgruntedly.

      She continued to search and her appetite finally stilled

      She returned to impatiently await the dawn.

      Then when the first rays of light

      Burst over the many-fanged range to the east

      And the mountains cast sharp shadows over the plains,

      The Goddess heard an awful voice

      Calling out hoarsely at her:

      ‘Come, oh my mate, I await thee here,’

      And the shimmering silvery Goddess arose

      With a cry of immeasurable joy

      And, not heeding the regular exit,

      She burst through the side of the hill;

      And midst roaring boulders, thund’ring clouds of blinding dust

      She held her arms outstretched . . .

      ‘My Mate! My Mate! You have . . .’

      Her voice faded out into gasping silence

      As hungry limbs reached out with might

      From the billowing dust for her lithe silv’ry form

      And – Oh Great Spirit – how horrible they were!

      They were not arms like her own

      But those of great creeping vines

      Whose very bark was studded

      With jagged pieces of granite

      And diamonds and iron ore

      A horrible mineral display!

      These branches, as they’ll henceforth be called,

      Sprang with a host of others

      From the top of a monstrous trunk,

      Resembling the biggest baobab tree

      That ever grew on earth.

      From the middle of the monstrous trunk

      Bulged dozens of bloodshot eyes

      Which burnt with a lecherous hunger,

      While beneath them grinned a wicked mouth

      With a thousand pointed fangs.

      Now and then a long green tongue

      Like the hide of a crocodile

      Would lick the granite lips.

      * * *

      From some of the tree’s branches grew

      Great udders which oozed a golden honey-like fluid.

      Unlike the ordinary tree, this one had roots which it used

      Like a crab or a spider to move from one place to another;

      And the sight alone

      Of those crawling living roots

      Scrabbling o’er the rock-hard plain as they moved

      Was enough for the mountains to shudder!

      ‘Come, my beloved, come to me!’

      Roared the tree and drew the Goddess close

      And with its rock-studded mouth bruised her silvery lips

      With a savage kiss!

      ‘I am the Tree of Life, thy mate, and I desire thee!’

      ‘Aieeee,’ shrieked Ma – ‘It cannot be!

      My mate you are not – my companion – NO!

      Release me, you ugly, most monstrous thing!’

      ‘Release you, while I’ve only just caught you!

      You, my heart’s desire!

      I did not catch you only to release you!’

      ‘What . . .?’ gasped the Goddess.

      As more and more branches

      Held her fast beyond all hope . . .

      And here, my dear reader, I shall, as the saying goes,

      Cut the fowl’s beak,

      Leaving the rest to your most respected imagination!

      Suffice it to say that in agonised moments that followed

      The Goddess had very good cause to regret

      Her folly of requesting the Almighty Spirit

      To grant her a wish of her own.

      When the Tree of Life released her at last,

      The thoroughly frightened Ma

      Fled madly across the plains with loud shrieks

      To the Great Spirit with entreaties to rid her

      Of a most unpleasant mate,

      But the reply that the First Goddess got

      Was – ‘You have had your wish—

      What more do you want?’

      You may wonder, dear reader,

      How the Goddess managed her escape.

      Well the tree had pursued her relentlessly

      With all its tremendous bulk.

      Like any young man he had no wish to see

      Even his metaphysical bride escape

      And return to his mother-in-law!

      Do not the Wise Ones say

      That ‘They who have for the first time tasted

      The nectar-filled cup of Love

      Never let it drop undrained?’

      So, over plain and valley, and over the hills

      And down many a cruel mountainside

      Fled the terrified Goddess, and racing forth,

      Now on the ground on her silvery feet—

      Now through the air like a bird of prey,

      But no matter how far and how fast she fled

      The Tree of Life kept close on her heels

      Until at last both pursuer and pursued

      Reached the bleak barren wastelands which in future years

      Became known to mortals as Ka-Lahari.

      By now the great Tree was on fire with love,

      But tired ne’ertheless while his quarry,

      Urged by the cold breath of fear,

      Was still as fresh as ever.

      At long last, after many years of flight and pursuit

      Both Goddess and tree plunged headlong

      In the waters of lake Makarikari

      And it was here that Ma streaked through the water

      Like some silvery luminous fish,

      And then soared like an owl through the night sky

      While below, her mate, the Tree of Life,

      Waddled in the mud of the lake.

      Here it was that the Imperfect Immortal

      Very nearly made good her escape,

      But here too a flash of pure inspiration

      Tore through the sluggish brain of the Tree.

      Acting fast on a chance idea,


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