Mighty Brahmuhn

Brahmuhn’s three Elders were quarrelling amongst themselves, obviously in his absence.

‘What I can’t figure out is why the brute is still alive?!’ Dombo ranted.

Gumbo had his thumb and forefinger on his chin, immersed in thought. ‘Those were well over a thousand Ndebele warriors!’ he said looking gravely disappointed.

‘How do you know? You weren’t even there,’ Shiri said.

‘Dombo and I sent spies to spread threats and insults to their gods and to their ancestors and lied that they were from Brahmuhn to provoke wrath from them,’ Gumbo informed him. ‘In addition to that, the spies also sabotaged their wells, burned a lot of huts and killed a few dozen women and children in the villages. We were positive the Ndebele would attack with a vengeance that could not be quelled, let alone countered!’

‘How absurd is that!’ Shiri looked flabbergasted. ‘That would mean the Ndebeles would kill everyone in our village including you!’

‘Absolutely not,’ Dombo said. ‘We had made a deal with the Ndebele that when they defeated our village they would spare a handful of us and us, the Elders would lead the village.’

‘We would begin a new era,’ Gumbo said. ‘A new chiefdom ruled by us, the wise Elders. A chiefdom of peace and custom, a chiefdom that Chief Kindi fought so long to build, and not this lousy joke Brahmuhn is selling to us!’

Dombo folded his arms and loosened his scowl a bit. ‘At least our plan made some of the feuding Ndebele tribes come to their senses and unite. That was the only successful part of our plan.’

‘Treason!!’ Shiri gasped in disbelief.

‘Quiet, you spineless fool!’ Gumbo rebuked him. ‘If the Ndebele had conquered us, at least our safety would have been guaranteed!’

‘And the villagers’ safety?’ Shiri eyed him with a disgusted look.

‘They worship Brahmuhn so the death of the majority of them would have been nothing short of collateral damage.’

Shiri could not believe the words that had just come from Dombo and Gumbo’s mouths.

‘Now go to Brahmuhn’s hut,’ Dombo instructed Shiri.

‘Why?’

‘Just show yourself and congratulate him on his…“victory”. We, on the other hand, will continue orchestrating his “eviction”. ’

Although totally against it, Shiri did as instructed.

Brahmuhn had been quarrelling with the girl whose name turned out to be Buhlebenkosi (Ndebele: The goodness of the Lord). He was having his breakfast while sitting on a goatskin mat: large hot sweet potatoes with warm milk fresh from the cow’s udder.

Buhlebenkosi, with a disgusted scowl and one shake of her head had rejected his offer to eat with him. Their argument had now come to a halt. Brahmuhn was tearing away at his breakfast whilst Buhlebenkosi glared at him with a vicious eye from the far end of the hut.

‘You can stare at me like that all you want but it won’t change the fact that I own you,’ he reminded her. His eyes though were on his breakfast.

Her eyes turned to the the back of his hand. ‘Now I know where you get your help from,’ she said.

He stopped eating and looked at her. He noticed that she was staring at his tattoo. ‘What are you on about, girl?’

‘You’re a medium.’

‘A who?’

‘You talk to…spirits.’

‘You’re gravely mistaken. My mother is the medium, not me.’

‘Humph! I’m actually surprised that they call you one of the wisest men of this age…that they compare you to Chief Mbada, yet you know nothing of mediums.’

He looked greatly insulted, that people were actually comparing him to the wicked Chief Mbada. He said, ‘Everyone knows that mediums communicate with the dead. Not that I believe any of that nonsense but…’

Buhlebenkosi burst into laughter, an obtrusive and mocking laugh which came as a surprise to Brahmuhn since it was the first time he had seen her face changing its expression.

‘There are mediums who communicate with the dead and heal people,’ she told him, ‘and then there’s… the other kind,’ she pointed at his tattoo.

He grabbed a sweet potato and bit off a small piece from its end, not bothering to peel the skin off of this one. ‘And what’s…“the other kind”?’ he asked her chewing very slowly, his face riddled with curiosity.

‘They say that the mediums who possess that… your mark are protected by high ranking demons…get favors from them: Azazel,, even Satan himself.’ She spat on the ground in revulsion.

‘You know, for a godly person you seem to know more about the devil than God himself. And as for this demon protection story…I don’t see how that’s a bad thing. I love favors and I wouldn’t mind having Satan coming in here and scrubbing my floors for me because I’m sure he would do a better job than you.’

‘So, you believe in Satan and demons but you do not believe in God?’ Her question was more rhetorical than inquisitive.

‘Demons are evil…something which I see every day but God is too good to be true. God is just an illusion some depressed person thought of to try and comfort himself of the madness and chaos of the world and in turn passed this absurd doctrine onto someone else and then it spread…like an infectious disease.’

‘But can you not consider that where there is evil there is also good to suppress it?’

‘Every good thing is a wicked thing in disguise, always expecting something in return…’

Shiri suddenly barged in. Both Buhlebenkosi and Brahmuhn turned to him. ‘Forgive me, Your Greatness,’ he apologized throwing himself onto the floor in obeisance.

Brahmuhn sighed heavily and threw his half eaten sweet potato on the floor. ‘What is it?’