It was a battle of survival for him. The ferocious beast with blood-shot eyes was looking at him with rage. It weighed several hundreds pounds, with claws as sharp as the sword of a skilled swordsman. When it opened its mouth, the canines that had devoured Ragork were revealed. Stripped thick fur, curly tails and a mysterious horn were its attribute.

Umkuzu knew that if he ever wanted to set his feet on his homeland again, if he ever wanted to see his beloved Nane and express soothing words of affection to her under the cherry tree, then he must survive by all means possible.

The beast from the abyss; the single-horned Liger, charged towards him in rage. With a hybrid feeling of fear and courage, armed with just his favourite spear, Umkuzu charged towards it too. At the centre of the arena they met. The Liger leaped mightily, pointing its claws towards Umkuzu, Umkuzu let out his war cry “Mkazi Ubuluntu!”, pointing his spear at the beast as he leaped. The spectators became dead-silent as the two creatures collided.

*

“When will you come to see my parents, Umkuzu?” Nane quizzed, as her fingers ran through his sturdy chest. “You keep promising that you’d come when the time is right. Umkuzu, you are making me wait anxiously to death,” her face showing worry even as she rested her newly plaited hair on his broad shoulders.

“Nane, Nane,” Umkuzu started. “The only one my heart beats for, the woman behind my smile and my breath. Your lips are sweeter than honey, yes, honey that drips from the honeycomb. With soft skins glowing under the moonlit night and radiating under the light of the sun. I have told you not to worry that I would come with my people to see your father,” he said while stroking her nose.

“That’s what you’ve been saying for some time now. It seems you’ve been lusting over the other girls, especially those ones with calabash waists,” she replied.

“May I be mauled over by a ferocious beast and may my spear never get any glory if I had ever looked at another woman asides you. Don’t fret my dear one, it would be sooner than you think, I promise you, and remember that I always stand by my words.”

“I believe you Umkuzu, but it seems like an eternity waiting for you. I want to be your solace. I want you to enjoy the pleasantness of my bosom and make me a woman. I want to bear healthy children for you from my thighs. I am drowning in the sea of your love. Please hurry and make me yours before other men do.”

“Who dares?” Umkuzu roared. Nane gently lifted her head from his shoulders, her face now wearing a smile. She knew that it was time for some drama.

“Who dares to take away what is mine?” He asked no one in particular. He stood up like a young lion about to pounce on a prey. “Don’t they know who I am? I am Umkuzu the Great, the son of Zimka, and the grandson of Yaazu the Fearless. I am Umkuzu, the slayer of beasts and giants, the chief warrior of the Ubuluntu tribe and the one whose spear never misses. By the heavens I do swear, to do to any man who tries to take away from me something in which I have found delight. I will do to him what I did to kings and I will turn his house into a public latrine.”

Umkuzu paced up and down as he uttered those words. He was not a mere warrior. His family had been producing the chief warriors for generations and even before the mantle fell on his shoulders, he had already gained years of experience at war, fighting in battles since he was but a boy.

“Everyone knows Umkuzu the Great,” Nane grinned. “But just hurry because I am already drunk in your love.”

“Look up and tell me what you see,” Umkuzu said, pointing at the branches of the cherry tree they were under.

“I can see the fruits already coming out. They are still green.” Nane replied.

“I tell you today, my dear one, with the sun as my witness, that I would come to make you mine before these fruits ripen,” Umkuzu assured.

“That would be in less than fifty days, Umkuzu. I do hold you by your words.”

“I need to go now, my love. The others would have been waiting for me at the guard post. Do make your way home as it would soon get dark,” Umkuzu said as he bade her goodbye with a kiss on her forehead.

Ubuluntu land was situated in the tropics, on the valley plains of Mzazi. The land was surrounded by a thick mass of assembling trees packed together like the hairs of a lion. The trees served as wood for the villagers and also as a source of protection, encircling the entire land, thereby making it less visible to the outside world. The River Uda provides fresh and clean water for them with children enjoying its crystal clear look and freshness as they plunge into it in its shallow point further south.

The people of Ubuluntu had been living in seclusion for generations until they were found out by some neighboring tribes and thus were attacked. This had led to several battles being fought. Their forests were then filled with several traps for intruders while some warriors took turns in guarding the village from the outskirt.

Umkuzu picked up his spear, his most trusted friend, after he had watched Nane leave. He trusted his spear more than he did any mortal. It had stuck with him during the good times and the bad. It had fought many battles, tasted many victories and they had had many near deaths together. It had pierced the rough skins of giants, the slippery skins of creeping animals, the fluffy coverings of flying creatures and the soft skins of countless kings.

The five-feet weapon was made from the sturdy bark of the oak tree, and the metal was specially formed by Waki the blacksmith.

When Umkuzu arrived at the guard post, four of his warriors were already there anticipating his arrival. They were manly, men or valor. Strips of cloth made of cotton were tied around their loins to cover their manliness. Leather skins were worn on their waists and cowries joined by threads sat beautifully on their necks.

“You’re welcome great warrior,” they said in unison when they saw Umkuzu.

“What is the situation like?” He asked.

“Up until now it has been clear,” answered one of them.

“All right, everyone should go back to his position,” Umkuzu ordered.

The sun was beginning to set and the heavenly moistures hurrying as if late for an evening meal. Melodic whispering of birds with different hues and colors can be heard as the breeze from the trees fell on the bare-chested men.

“Incoming! Incoming!” screamed Luki, the first warrior.

“What did you see?” shouted Umkuzu.

“An army of about seventy soldiers approaching, and with speed so terrifying.”

“Everyone come together. First, let us close the entrance with fresh leaves so that no matter what happens, they won’t easily find their way into the kingdom. Let us then move up a bit and charge towards them, buying ourselves enough time until other warriors arrive,” Umkuzu said.
“Luki, you know what to do.”

“Yes, my lord,” Luki replied.

Luki was fleet-footed, the fastest man in the entire kingdom. With ruddy hairs, a strange birth mark on his neck and blue eyes, he was considered a special breed, and due to his quick pace, he was saddled with the responsibility of delivering important messages. With feet shod in materials made of animal skin, he took off.

“It’s just the four of us left,” Umkuzu said. “We hope to hold these intruders until we get backup. But right now, right here, we would fight with all our might. They are about 70 men and we are just 4, but do not fret. How many battles have we fought?”

“Countless!”

“How many battles have we lost?”

“None!”

“How many times have we returned home alive?”

“Everytime!”

“So do not cower. Fight for your fathers. Fight for your mothers. Fight for your siblings. Fight for the women you love. Fight for Ubuluntu land! Mkazi Ubuluntu!” Umkazu roared.

“Umkazi Ubuluntu!” they thundered in reply and charged towards the intruders.

Weapons clanged and clinked under the sunless sky. Men screamed as molten- red blood sprayed from their open wounds of cut flesh. Umkuzu watched helplessly as his men who had fought valiantly fell, one at a time. He hoped for other warriors to arrive, but that never happened. His men had all fallen with only twenty of the intruders left, surrounding him with shiny swords pointed at his throat. There was nothing he could, so he dropped his weapon and surrendered.

He was bound in fetters and led away. The intruders were soldiers employed by slave merchants to capture people for their business. Umkuzu was taken to the slave market, hundreds of kilometers away to be sold for a decent price.

The barking of dogs amidst greedy laughter of the slave merchants bargaining with prospective customers could be heard. Children wailed, women cried and the men sighed at their predicament. These, just like Umkuzu had been captured and brought to the market. The children would be sold to become house servants, while the women would be sold to work on the farm, or rather to satisfy the lustful cravings of their new owners. The men were usually sold to work in the farms or to make bricks, or worse still, to become gladiators.

“Yes, let me take a look at that one, ” said an unshaven middle aged man pointing at Umkuzu. His beards were unkempt, stomach protruding, a bald head and bulging eyes like those of a night owl. The remains of his last meal of vegetables could be seen in his teeth when he laughed. He came closer to Umkuzu, poking him with a stick as if to assess him, and then returned to the slave merchant to finalize his purchase.

Umkuzu was tied to a carriage along with other slaves bought by the ugly man and his friends. They journeyed for days over arid lands and a vast desert. Finally, they stopped at a location – another slave market. Buyers were on hand to make quick purchase of the “goods” that just arrived, and before he could blink his eyes, a branding iron brought out from a fiery furnace was placed on his arm, making him scream in agony.

“You’re welcome man,” said a man to Umkuzu. “My name is Ragork.”

Umkuzu looked at him with a scorn. He was nearly as tall and almost twice as huge as Umkuzu was. He had the same branding as Umkuzu, which suggested that he too was a slave.

“I know you’re still in shock over your new surroundings, but this is the reality my friend. This is the house of Capua the merciless.”

“I am Umkuzu the Great. The chief warrior of the Ubuluntu tribe,” Umkuzu finally said with a measure of pride.

“All right friend. But right here, we are all slaves, you, me and all the other men here. We are gladiators who fight to the death in the arena. Other houses bring their men to fight too. According to the city’s policy, any gladiator who successfully defeats twenty opponents must be granted freedom without fail by their owners.”

“Twenty men at once?”

“No, you have to fight one man every three days, so you can nurse your wounds and to recover before the next fight. Spectators pay huge fees to watch these gory events which is how these slave masters build their wealth. The fee is even doubled when it is a beast fight.”

“Beast fight?” Umkuzu questioned.

“Yes, my friend,” said Ragork. “Instead of waiting to defeat twenty men which is usually unlikely, anyone who is able to come against one of the beasts from the abyss and comes off victorious, such one would be granted freedom immediately.”

“How long have you been here, Ragork?”

“Almost two weeks now. I would count myself fortunate to be alive even after four victories, because I was nearly taken out in my last fight. I would be having my next fight tomorrow, and even though I had never seen anyone defeat the beast, I have decided to fight it,” Ragork said.

“Why would you make such a dangerous decision?”

“I am Ragork, the crown prince of Iljat Kingdom. I had a misunderstanding with my father, the king and so out of anger I left the land with my most loyal friend and warrior in order to cool off a bit, but we were captured by a marauding band and brought here. I lost him in the arena four days ago,” Ragork said as he tried to wipe the tears that had tricked down his face. “I can’t t stay here any longer, I need to get back to my people, to my kingdom, to my father.

“I am sorry about your friend, but do you have a plan on killing the beast?”

“I have watched with interest as other men fought it and lost. Its furs are thick and can’t be penetrated easily by weapons. However, it is vulnerable just around the neck, close to its left ear because of an opening there. All I need to do is strike it there just once, and I would not need to strike it another time.”

*

Umkuzu watched as Ragork came face-to-face with the beast. Despite being faced with a ferocious beast, he displayed a strange feeling of confidence. He charged at the beast with fury, and when he got close, he struck the beast. Unfortunately, he missed and could only strike its ear, with his sword falling off as a result. Panic quickly spread over him as the beast pounced on him. Ragork screamed as he was dragged into the abyss by the beast, to the delight of the spectators.

Umkuzu knew that in order to fulfill his promise to Nane, he must return home as soon as possible, and choosing to fight twenty men would take longer. He knew he might not make it through them all, so he chose, despite how dangerous it is, to fight the beast. His burning desire to go back home got the better of him. He was given his favorite spear, and seeing it jolted his confidence.

The arena was crowded and the noise was deafening.

“I am coming home,” said Umkuzu under hard breaths with his heart thumping at an alarming rate.

The sand in the arena were crystalline, reflecting the rays of the blazing sun. The abyss was opened from above and the beast walked out majestically. Umkuzu had only one objective: to strike the beast in its vulnerable spot with his spear that had never missed.

It was a battle of survival for him. The ferocious beast with blood-shot eyes was looking at him in rage. It weighed about 500 pounds, with claws as sharp as the sword of a skilled swordsman. When it opened its mouth, the canines that had devoured Ragork were revealed. Stripped thick fur, curly tails and a mysterious horn were its attribute.

Umkuzu knew that if he ever wanted to set his feet on his homeland again, if he ever wanted to see his beloved Nane and express soothing words of affection to her under the cherry tree, then he must survive by all means possible.

The beast from the abyss; the single-horned Liger, charged towards him in rage. With a hybrid feeling of fear and courage, armed with just his favourite spear, Umkuzu charged towards it too. At the centre of the arena the met, the Liger leaped mightily, pointing its claws towards Umkuzu, Umkuzu let out his war cry “Mkazi Ubuluntu!”, pointing his spear at the beast as he leaped. The spectators became dead-silent as the two creatures collided.

 

About the writer

Humble Ogbonna, a Diction and Phonetics Instructor with a passion  for writing sent in this entry from humbleoogbonna@gmail.com