Chereads / Ingwe Bola / Chapter 12 - The game

Chapter 12 - The game

"Hey, its you again?"

"I'm glad this time round you didn't take off from mere sight."

"Forgive me but you are really creepy."

"Not where I come from."

"And where is that?"

"A world way beyond your world."

"How long does it take for you to walk back home."

"Walk, try fly."

"You still insist on being weird ain't you?

What do I call you?" I asked.

"Call me Boy."

A twig broke in the woods, i turned sharply to see who it was, there was no one when I turned back the boy was gone.

I opened my eyes slowly to find myself in an unfamiliar room, in a cozy bed, not like any I've slept in before in my short life, felt like the only comfort I've ever experienced after the memory of my mom's curdle.

I raised myself in a sitting position and looked around. The room had two beds, the other bed was also occupied but the guy was sound asleep.

I tried my memory again, did it happen or was it all a dream? Did we really get attacked? Did I kill someone? I remember dogs, small emaciated dogs attacking us. We were 17 of us, where are they? Where am I?

"DAD ,DAD." Shouted the occupant of the other bed waking with a start.

"Ngaira?"

"Wasike."

"Where is everyone?"

"I wish I knew, manyi ta." I said.

"Where is my Dad? Where are we?"

"Again, I wish I knew."

"You are no good," he said jumping out of his bed.

"What you doing?"

"Right now I need more answers than questions if you don't mind." He said making his way to the door.

I jumped out of the bed.

"Wow, look at that, that's new." I said touching my shots.

Wasike opened the door, light flooded into the room, he walked out, I followed behind.

We found a man in the living room, this was a rich mans house, the first I have been to, it was glamorous, this is the dream a boy has for his future. After today I really didn't know how I would take my life...

"Hey guys, you are up, how you feeling?"

"Great."

"Where is my Dad?

Where is everyone?" Wasike asked.

"Who is your Dad?" The man asked.

"We were 17 of us, led by my Dad, we were on our way to the King's palace for the initiation."

"Ooh! The man, he is out of danger, he is in the infirmary and about how many boys you said?"

"17"

"OK, you did not get to the King's palace but you found the Ingwe's Den."

"Shut your mouth, this is his house?" I could not help but ask.

"Yes indeed."

"Can I see him?" Wasike asked

"He will show himself to you when the time is right."

"No, not the Ingwe, my dad."

"You will see him boy, now put something in your stomach, the Ingwe's infirmary is the best, if they say he is out of danger we believe he will be OK, come sit with me for brake fast."

We sat around the round table, the table was set fit for the king if not the Ingwe.

I looked across the table and saw how troubled Wasike was, I felt for him.

"Wasike, it's going to be OK."

"Thanks VD." I frowned, he smiled.

He took a brown bread and took a mouthful and the breakfast feast commenced.

"Sir, who are you?" I asked pouring juice in my metallic cup.

"Call me Mulindi."(Battler)

" Mulindi wi Ingwe?"(Ingwe's battler?)

"I must be, don't you think?"

"Nice, how long have you been with him?"

"Since he got the mask."

"Thank you for the meal sir, now can I see my father?" Interjected Wasike.

"Young master, its not my position to interfere with the infirmary. Young master, give it a minute and the right person for the question will be here.

Please."

"Wasike, he is just our babysitter." I helped.

"Oh!" Mattered Wasike.

"I would not put it so but for today yeah why not." Said Mulindi.

"So, super babysitter what do we do?" I asked.

"What do you have in mind?" He asked.

"Right now I feel like hitting one of those round things the pale people had, remember?" Asked Wasike.

"Yes, do you have one of those?" I asked.

"I've missed the description, what does it look like again?"

"The other day a pale man came with a round soft thing about this big." I said motioning

"Yes."

"He split us into two groups and warned against touching the thing he was carrying in his hands with our bare hands instead kick it as hard as we could. We went all out to damage the thing with our feet but it did not bulge.

That thing." I tried my best to explain, but could not even understand what I was asking.

"Mpira."(ball)

" what?"

"Ball.

It's called a ball, the pale people, just like us have games they play, when we enjoy minyikha, thrilled by a strong man throwing another hard on the ground, they enjoy wrestling, when we tackle hard in mahaka they prefer chasing after an egg shaped ball in rugby, when aiming at static positions proves our feet accuracy in lilibo, they prefer having twenty five people on a pitch to help each other to hit the goal, eleven players aside, two targets, each side targeting the others goal, with a neutral party called to keep the rules, those who hit the target with the ball more wins.

They call it football."

"Do you have it?" Asked Wasike.

"As a matter of fact I do.

Come follow me."

We did.

"Here is where we keep our sporting gear." He said opening a round hut beside the main house. The room was covered with ornaments, glittering well hung around the hut with two huge boxes at the furthest end.

He went to one of the boxes and started the quest for the ball. While he looked for it, I took time to look around the room. My eye fell on an ornament, shiny brown wood with strings.

"Sir, that thing can smash a man right into the face hard, what is it?"

"That's a guitar, I can teach you to play it."

"How is it played?"

"Those strings are pulled, when pulled they speak."

"Ah! Can I pull one."

"Sure."

I walked right to the thing and pulled a string, it vibrated then echoed its own vibration louder than I had expected that I jumped back.

Wasike came running into the room

"The f*ck was that?"

"Guitar."

"This room is so bright. What did you do to it?"

"I pulled a string."

"Pull it again.

Can you?"

"Yes." And I did.

"Wow! that's cool."

A ball was thrown bouncing his way, he fumbled for it but finally caught up with it and off to the open compound.

"Take it in your hands." He said.

"No thanks let me play ball with Wasike."

"OK, but I'll say this, a good guitar player gets attention whenever he pulls a string.

Come now but you now know where it is." He said ushering me to the door.

Wasike was running around the compound following the brown mpira.

"Can I walk around the compound?" I asked.

"Sure. I can show you around."

"That be great.

Mulindi, will we see the Ingwe?"

"You'll see him."

"Mulindi, what do you think of the Isukha bull fighting?"

"Mmh! Nice, I'll say this, in the little information I have gathered I have found that all mankind has derived pleasure in running from a bull, there is a country..."

"What's a country?"I asked.

"How do you call your mother land?"

"Home."

"Where is home?" He asked.

"Africa."

"That would be your country, there is a group of persons who call Mexico motherland, Mexicans, those who call Asia motherland, Asians,Russians, Americans, German's from Germany as a country, alright."

I nodded.

"So, say a country like India, a bull is let loose in a crowd of people and the running begin, in some countries say cowboy country US, a man is strapped on a bull then asked to hold on as long as he can, in Mexico a crowd of people gather in an arena to watch a man square off with a bull armed with only a red sheet..."

"What?"

"Yes a red sheet, there are those in India whose tradition mandate for a man to tackle a bull to get a wife, they have found a blind spot around the neck of a bull where it's horns can't reach then hung on until the bull tips over, see?"

"Yes." I said attentively

"So the Isukha just like the rest of the world find thrill in running from the bull but instead of squaring off a human with a bull, we square off a bull with a bull, find thrill in watching them push and shove with the running coming latter on when the losing bull break off from the fight and has to distance it self from the other, whatever or who ever it finds in its way, unfortunate."

"We?"

"Yes we." He looked at me and smiled.

The day went by without the Ingwe's show but that was the best day.

Late that night, while sitting around Mulindi listening to one of his interesting tells two men came walking into the room, Mulindi stood and said "welcome Mukhongo."

"Thank you Mulindi." Said one of the men.

I walked straight to the man who responded and asked.

"Are you the Ingwe?"

"I am."

I hit my chest twice then clapped the floor with both hands.

He smiled and laid his clenched right hand across his chest.

But that still did not feel enough, I jumped right on him and hugged him long and tight, he held me up, carried me to where I was sitting, sat me on his right lap, Wasike came and sat on his other lap.

"Can I tell you a story?" He asked.