I will tell you a story that happened in Kisama, where the lord was Chief Kimona dia Zonga. You probably want to know when this happened? No one can answer you for sure, but it was a long time ago, a very long time ago, more than two centuries ago.
In the shade, under the mighty cork tree, which served as a meeting place, a resting place, and a place where people exchanged news, everyone sat today. Everyone was doing something. The leader loved to watch his subjects work. He really didn't like slackers.
- Tell me, who gets up earlier: the sorcerer or the thief? Which one wakes up earlier? - asked Shambezhe, a young sorcerer who communicated only with evil forces. He had a bad reputation. People didn't like him and were afraid of him. There were rumors that this Shambezhe and some others who were at the same time with him cast spells at night and kidnapped the dead.
Therefore, no one answered Shambezhe, pretending not to hear. It is better not to respond to such a person, it is better not to contact him. And what good, you will bring trouble upon yourself. Who knows what he was up to there, why he asks such a question.
- Well, why are you silent? Who gets up earlier? - Shambezhe repeated the question.
And suddenly the famous thief Kamukolo could not stand it:
- The thief gets up earlier!
- So you say that the thief gets up before the sorcerer?
- Yes. When the thief goes to work, the sorcerer is still sleeping.
- And I claim that I am a sorcerer. Let's argue. Let people tell which of us is right.
But everyone was silent. No, they won't say anything, they don't even want to talk. A sorcerer and a thief are not people you like to talk to. With their heads bowed, people pretended that they had no time for it, that they were very passionate about their work: one was weaving mats, another was making baskets, the third was carving something out of wood.
From a distance I could hear women's voices and the rhythmic tapping of pestles in wooden mortars: pu-pu-pu. There the women were pounding cassava, talking or singing. Cicadas chirped on the branches and birds sang joyfully. Naked, very small children played not far from their mothers. The older guys chased the locusts, and when they caught them, they tore off their wings and long legs and threw them into a pot of boiling palm oil. The boys scoured the tall grass in hopes of finding birds' nests or set traps for turtle doves. Here pigs grazed alone and in herds, chickens, goats and even buffalos roamed. Women walked leisurely, carrying large pots and baskets on their heads.
Suddenly a young woman appeared in the clearing with many braids on her head, painted with red clay and greased with palm oil. On her head she had the usual load - a huge wicker basket, and on her back was a child.
“Hey, Bebeka!” the leader shouted to her. “Why were you delayed?”
The woman approached, removed the heavy burden from her head and respectfully greeted the leader, touching the ground with her palms:
“It’s still early, sir.” And, barely catching her breath from fatigue, she added: “Most honorable sir, have you heard what they are saying about the new sorcerer, Kanjila’s grandson?”
- What did you hear? What do people say about him?
- I'll carry the basket first, sir...
- No. Speak now, otherwise our supreme sorcerer will not calm down until he hears what happened there.” And the leader, with a majestic gesture, pointed to the old man who was weaving something from the fibers of baobab leaves.
Smiling shyly, Bebeka took off the bandage and placed the child on the ground next to the basket.
— Kanjila had a grandson, and from the very birth it was clear that this was not an ordinary child! That’s what they say, most honorable sir,” she said modestly.
“Yes, yes, I heard it too... As if, as soon as he came out of his mother’s womb, he immediately asked for food,” the old sorcerer, perking up, nodded his head.
And the leader nodded his head affirmatively:
“And I know that, I heard people talk about it.” What are they saying now?
“He’s already grown up a little,” said Bebeka. “He has both a father and a mother, but he recognizes only one grandmother.” He loves her very much. There can't be a moment without her. If grandma is going to go to the stream, he cries for her to take him with her. If she wants to go to one of the neighbors, he cries for her to take him there with her. Wherever the grandmother goes, her grandson is always with her. Even when she is working in the field.
One day, the grandmother refused to take her grandson with her to the field, saying that she was tired and it was hard for her to carry him. “Don’t you want to take me with you?” he shouted. “Well, look, the pacas will come to you at night!” Grandmother did not pay any attention to his words, she just smiled. And, you know, most honorable sir, it happened! Although this was said by a child, not an adult...
“A real sorcerer can cast a spell from infancy.” Grandma should know this! - the old sorcerer interrupted her.
And the leader bowed his head again:
- Yes, grandma should have known this, she should have known what kind of grandson she had...
“And so, most honorable sir,” Bebeka continued, “as the child said, so it happened.” At night, a whole herd of pacas surrounded their hut: mu... mu... mu... And this despite the fact that fires were burning around them so that the animals would not approach. Out of fear, the grandmother began to scream and call for help. People who were sleeping in other huts woke up and went to see what had happened, but no one dared to come close. Everyone was afraid of such a large herd. After all, pacas have long horns... And the grandmother shouted:
“Where is my grandson, where is my little sorcerer, let him drive the herd away, otherwise the Pacas will kill me!” Someone ran to look for their grandson. And he's in the hut. He woke up and said to his father and mother: “Ayue! I know why my grandmother is crying - her pacas are not allowed out of the hut!” They carried the child out... And all the pacas instantly fled. This is what everyone is talking about now.
- This child is a real sorcerer. We really need such a sorcerer, all good forces will obey him... Now you can go, Bebeka, the heart of our old sorcerer has calmed down... - said the leader and with a movement of his hand showed that she could go.
And, touching the ground with her palms, Bebeka picked up her son, who was playing on the ground, put the basket on his head and slowly walked along the path.
“Now,” said the old sorcerer, “there is someone to replace me.” We, our people, will have a good, kind wizard.
“We really need this,” the leader agreed. “Everything confirms the boy’s great strength.” I heard that when he wants to eat, and there is no food in the house, he just has to say: “Grandma, go to the stream, there you will find food for me and for yourself,” and both of them are full. Yes, yes, the boy will grow up and become a good wizard.
Silence reigned. In the thick shade of a tree, people worked and quietly discussed what they had just heard. One of the elders, leaning on a stick, approached the leader:
“If this child has such great power, why don’t we ask him to make it rain?” After all, our old sorcerer, no matter how hard he tried, could not conjure rain for us.
“I’m probably getting old, the gods don’t listen to me,” the sorcerer said sadly. The father must allow the child to cast magic, and let the boy ask the gods for rain.
“If necessary, we’ll talk to father.” He'll probably agree. We really need a good sorcerer. People are dissatisfied with Shamba and those who are at the same time with him. They do a lot of evil. And our good wizard has already become old and weak.
Kimona dia Zonga, the great leader, stood up:
“Let this child become the glory not only of our people, but of our entire land!” So be it!
Then, remembering well what he heard, Shambezhe decided to show people what he was capable of. And with the onset of night, he, along with those who were at the same time with him, set off on the road.
- We are walking in the dark! We see everything! We walk in the dark! We see everything! - they repeated intimidatingly.
People heard their voices in their sleep and anxiously tossed and turned on their mats.
-Where was he buried? - asked one of Shambezhe’s companions.
And the other, kicking a small mound of earth, said:
- Here! Didn't you see where he was buried? And in evil joy everyone shouted:
- Rise up, dead man, we are here!
Shambezhe and one of those who were with him sprinkled magic powder on the ground, ordering the unconscious body to rise from its stretcher.
- Now he is ours! Now he is ours! Both body and soul! Everything is ours! But at this time the sky in the east brightened a little.
“We’ll have to postpone our feast until tomorrow,” Shambezhe said with annoyance. “Let the dead man lie in my hut for now.” Let's take him there. Do you agree?
And those who were at the same time with Shambezhe agreed. Tomorrow they will have dinner for them. The four of them carried the stretcher with the dead body to Shambezhe's hut.
But none of them knew that Kamukolo, a cunning and thief, had tracked them down, seen and heard everything. Following the sorcerers, he made his way into the hut and lay down next to the dead body.
“Now we will find out who is more cunning! Now we will find out who gets up first: you, the sorcerer, or I, the thief,” Kamukolo thought, lying next to the dead man.
When night fell again, Shambezhe came for the dead man. The sorcerer pulled the dead body towards him, and it suddenly recoiled back and fell heavily in its original place.
- Hey! Don't you want to go? Did you like this place? - Shambezhe said mockingly.
And those who were at one with Shambezhe stood nearby and did not understand what was going on.
“I’m dragging him, but for some reason the dead man comes back…” Shambezhe explained in confusion. And again he tried to raise the dead man. But again nothing worked out for him.
“He can’t want anything anymore!” Let him do what we want! - the sorcerers laughed. - Take him by the shoulders, and we will take him by the legs.
So they loaded the body onto a stretcher and, very pleased, headed into the dense thickets.
And Kamukolo slowly got out of his hiding place, grabbed Shambezhe’s basket, which contained witchcraft supplies, and, trying not to lose sight of the sorcerers, but at the same time not getting too close to them, set off after them.
The dead body suspended on the poles was illuminated by the flaring flames of the fire. Around him, writhing like a snake, the sorcerers were spinning in a devilish dance. They kicked their legs, twisted their heads madly, shouted some spells in hoarse voices and whistled shrilly. And these were no longer people, but strange creatures: on their heads there were horns, bird feathers and spiky hair, on their foreheads a huge rhinoceros horn, on their belts each had four continuously rustling branches: two on the sides, one in front and one in the back.
And so, as if calling for a feast, the flames began to lick the dead body, which was already emitting a pungent odor. Shambezhe stopped first and, grinning ominously, examined the dead man:
- Look at him! He's so fat! And for whom did he try so hard to eat more? Ha ha ha!
- Don’t know for whom? For us, of course! - said one of the sorcerers.
And again, baring their teeth, they spun around the victim. Dry branches crackled and the sorcerers burst into laughter.
Then, clapping his hands several times, Shambezhe squatted down.
“This very creature, Kifubu,” said Shambezhe, pointing to the deceased, “one day wanted to disgrace me!” You know, at the time when there was a plague, I went to him to ask him to give me a bull... Mine died of illness, and the cows needed a bull... And what do you think he answered me? “Here in our area, there was no plague. If I give you a bull, it will die just like yours...” And now he’s roasting like a bull!
- Now we'll try it! - exclaimed one of the sorcerers, noisily inhaling the smell of fried meat.
Taking a large cassava tuber out of the basket, Chambezhe exclaimed:
“Now we’ll try it together with this thing!”
Suddenly, very close by, jackals howled, attracted by the smell of roasted meat.
- Get out! Get away! This is not for you! - the sorcerers shouted and began throwing flaming brands at the jackals.
And Kamukolo, hiding in the bushes, writhed in disgust. So that’s what they are, sorcerers! Among people they behave like people, but here they act like animals! Oh! They deserve the most terrible death! Murderers, cannibals!
- Maybe I’m imagining everything? Mind me, mind me! “I’ll get away from here before they see me,” Kamukolo whispered, carefully crawling through the thickets of bushes and dragging the treasured basket behind him.
- What is this? - Shambezhe was amazed when early in the morning he saw Kamukolo in the clearing, wrapped in a piece of red cloth.
Shambezhe’s heart sank with terrible suspicion. This red cloth was very similar to the one that usually lay in his basket. He rushed to the hut and rummaged through everything. But in vain. No cloth, no basket... Yes, Kamukolo is wearing his magic cloth! Scoundrel! Thief!
He ran back to the clearing, where Kamukolo was still standing, wrapped in a red cloth, and the girls were looking at him with all their eyes.
- Now I believe that the thief gets up before the sorcerer! - said Shambezhe.
“Didn’t I tell you this?” The thief always gets up before the sorcerer and knows what the sorcerer is hiding from others,” Kamukolo was not at a loss.
-What are you talking about? - the sorcerer hissed.
- Don’t you remember anything?
-What should I remember?
- What did you do at night? Where have you been? Do you know why you couldn't move the dead body? You know? Because I was pulling him in the other direction. Understood?
Shambezhe went cold with fear. The damned thief knows everything! And, suppressing the hatred in himself, feigning a smile, Shambezhe said:
- That's what you are! Joker! - And he pulled out the pipe. - Do you have some coal for a light? - Shambezhe asked casually.
But Kamukolo fearlessly shouted in the sorcerer’s face:
- I don’t have any coal! It is you who have the coals to fry the unfortunate! People, I'm not kidding, I saw everything, I saw everything!
Shambezhe was silent, his eyes fixed on the sky, silently calling on the spirits for help. Oh, how he wanted Camukolo to die at that moment! How he wanted to silence the worthless thief forever! But he no longer had the magic red cloth, there was nothing for witchcraft.
And at this time the leader came into the clearing, and the elders surrounded him, listening to the dispute between Shambezhe and Kamukolo. What are they talking about there? Thief and sorcerer, sorcerer and thief...
The great chief Kimona dia Zonga asked curiously:
-What are you arguing about? I want to know what happened.
And then Kamukolo told everything he saw at night! Fear gripped the people.
- Oh, this sorcerer! Now it’s clear who dug up the deceased Kifubu from the ground! Now it’s clear where the poor guy went! - people muttered in horror, patting their open mouths with their palms.
In the middle of the excited crowd stood Camukolo with an expression of triumph on his face. He showed extraordinary courage, real courage - he was where sorcerers devour the dead, where a person cannot be with impunity. He himself watched the terrible feast.
- Hey, Kamukolo! Didn't you tremble with fear? - people asked.
- This is who our real person is! - people exclaimed. And Kamukolo, proud of his bravery, told them everything he had seen that night.
And at this time, Shambezhe, already tied up, was waiting for those who were at the same time with him - they were supposed to be brought here.
- Do you know what awaits you and your accomplices? - asked the angry leader.
Shambezhe stood, staring at the ground, muttering incantations. But they didn't help him. One of the elders said:
- Let's put an end to evil forces! We now have a good wizard!
And from a distance could be heard the noise of the crowd, joyful voices welcoming Kanjila’s little grandson, whom his grandmother was carrying here in her arms. And then the evil sorcerers, according to the custom of those places, executed themselves - they hanged themselves on four branches of one huge tree.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru