"I saved your life a few moons ago, and I am doing the same today. If you do as I say you will survive longer in these tough times." Murape, a middle-aged man, said whilst packing bones, beads, small horns and other items he used in his trade as a sangoma. For him it wasn't just a trade, but a lifestlye that he was prepared to die for, even on this date. He finished packing all the items into an elephant skin bag and handed them over to his only son, Kanga.
"You don't have to fight this war, father. Let's escape this war together and go to a new land where we are accepted for who we are." Kanga said as he dropped the bag on the floor in protest.
Murape held Kanga's shoulder gently and looked into his eyes as if he could see Kanga's soul. "My son, I mobilised these people to fight. Only a coward can run away from his problems. When I found you in that forest you were about to die. I swore to myself that I would keep you alive and I am fulfilling that promise even in the face of death."
Kanga dropped a tear as he realised that this could be their last moment together. "I found a reason to live when you saved me. How can I survive when you are not around?"
Murape squeezed Kanga's shoulder before saying, "My son, I live in your heart. And when I died, I will watch over you with my ancestors. This is your life."
He picked the bag placed it on Kanga's chest. "Remember to do everything that I commanded you to do. Our culture is being destroyed by civilisation, and you are the ray of hope in this madness. Now go!"
The sound of men screaming close to Murape's compound could be heard. Kanga hugged his father for a while. They separated and Murape said, "Use the western route to escape from this kingdom. The soldiers won't be watching that side today because they are focusing on the task at hand. May the ancestors keep you safe."
"I love you, father." Kanga said as he hesitated to run away.
Murape took a spear and a shield. He looked at Kanga with eyes that held his true feelings than Kanga's words. "Go," Murape said and the boy ran out of the compound.
When Kanga reached the edge of the compound he could see torches of fire suspended in the dark and cool night approaching. He quickly hid himself in the maize field and decided to watch the unfolding of the reality. Kanga watched as his father bravely fought a group of the king's armed soldiers.
Murape was strong but the soldiers outnumbered him. Kanga watched as one of the soldiers dipped his spear into Murape's chest. Murape tried to fight back but one of the soldiers dipped another spear into his throat. Blood oozed from Murape's neck as the soldiers looked on, their torches still suspended in the air. Kanga closed his eyes when one of the soldiers raised his axe and released it towards Murape. When he opened his eyes, Murape's body lay lifeless on the ground.
Kanga could do nothing but watch Murape descend into his death willingly, his tears streaming down his heart shaped face as he tightly clung onto the elephant skin. That was his only hope, it was his destiny.
As he hid, he heard footsteps approaching. He stood up and ran as fast as he could. He never looked back until he had gone beyond the boundaries of the kingdom.
He went due east and followed the path that he had been instructed to follow. Days passed by as he walked aimlessly towards the east. Witnessing the death of the one whom he truly loved made him hopeless.
He then found a river and lay there. His stomach was empty, his throat was dry and his feet were sore. He didn't what to do and lay there waiting to die as his father did. That's when he felt a pair of hands holding him by the shoulders and he passed out.
***
Hello there guys. This book is a historical fiction placed between the 12th and 16th century of Zimbabwe. Hope you enjoy it. Don't forget to leave a comment!
Sangoma is an African word used to describe traditional healers. In Shona language a traditional healer is called N'anga. Some call them witch doctors.