Kintu and Nambi; Revenge of the Spider #23

Continued from: Star crossed lovers #22

By Mugabe Victor

P.S. Ssekoko means cock in Luganda

“I always hated the moon,” the Ssekoko complained, “It is too round and dull, its color keeps changing with seasons and it barely seems to smile,” 

“Do you know what it reminds me of?” he paused almost as though desiring a reply, “Oranges, deceptively sour on the outside but sweet and juicy on the inside,” he said smugly.

As Mr. Ssekoko mumbled on, the other animals pretended to be deaf to his ranting. They went on with their nightly businesses unwilling to feed his unending neediness. He had become quite the pain after the little incident last night. The cows busied themselves with the cud as the hounds continued that one pointless race at their tails. On the other side of the pen, the spider continued her daily role of standing still and staring patiently as she waited for the buzzing fly to settle upon her trap. 

To an ordinary god, it was business as usual, however to the ears of the specially trained, one could hear the whispers of the distant hens as they gossiped about their now intolerable mate. 

“Why doesn’t he shut up?”

“Does he think we like listening to him?”

“With the singing it was bearable, but after his neck was struck by Gulu, all it does is force the sleep out of one’s eyes.”

“Serves him right,” the spider interrupted, startling the two hens.

“He should never have sung that song in the first place, only the gods know how to entertain that mad creature, Sekoko should never have sung that nonsense.” 

The hens went dead silent. They hated it when their gossip time was interrupted by a non-member of their cohort. Unfortunately, the fact that it was the Spider made matters much worse.

After all, everyone found her creepy. The excessive number of eyes, legs, eggs; it never made sense. It was always safer staying away from the strange kind for the hens. They had already learnt their lesson with the fox and the snake. No one would fool them again.

“If you care so much about his singing, why don’t you get rid of him yourself?” they clucked, “none of us is complaining, why should you?”

“Someone hates my singing?” the Ssekoko asked in disarray, his chest puffing out. The tension in the air was palpable as he cast an accusatory glance around the pen, daring the coward who thought his voice was terrible to come out and tell him this straight to his handsome face. 

He had become excessively sensitive after his voice box was struck. Anything said against him always led to some form of fight or senseless argument. No one wanted to be around him.

“Spider doesn’t,” one of the hens replied as she turned in Spider’s direction.

Ssekoko had no further questions. His blood had finally found the excuse it needed to boil. In a single leap he was at spider’s tail pecking at her every movement. His beak tore through every inch of the silky webs, sending Spider into a senseless scramble all over the walls. His mind in that instant was porridge; he did not even see Spider slip into a crack. She had narrowly survived a death by one gruesome pecking. 

“Those filthy animals,”she thought to herself with a sigh of relief.

“How dare they bring this upon me?” her mind wrestled, “what did I ever do to them?”

“Don’t be hard on them, they are merely scared.” Nambi casually replied to the spider’s question

Spider went stiff with shock, she never expected to ever be seen by the likes of her.

“Fear does not excuse the actions of a sinner, at least not to me,” Spider replied, “they deserve death.”

“Father is scared of losing me to a mere man, so he treats him like a rag,” Nambi mumbled, “does he deserve death too?”

Now, spider was never one of the crowds. She always watched from a distance. She had watched everything from the very start and listened to all conversations in and out of the palace.

This may be treason, but I do not care

 he may have three kids 

and yet it is unfair

he made one a nut, the other a prick

and you may not notice but you give me the creeps 

“What?” Nambi exclaimed, “you are not being fair to him, he takes care of everything around us, the birds, the bushes and the light that surrounds us,” 

A god, a pig, a fish in the lake,

he should have picked his roles

Then stayed in his lane 

On that glorious day of the gathering,

picked three perfect little fools from a rock he was pampering

it was surely a trick, but he shouldn’t have cared

One was hairy as a beast …

The other wreaked like he was up to no good

“Father never told us how a god comes into existence,”

Haa, a god?

“I take that Walumbe is the one that wreaked like he was up to no good, but he is not so bad when you get to know him,” she paused, “but am not sure why you’d describe Kayikuzi as hairy,”

Gulu was bored, he needed a clown

So he chose four kids, one made on his own

A creep, a prick, a fool, and a beast 

“Spider, you are not making any sense,” Nambi interrupted again, “Are you trying to tell me that two of Gulu’s children were not fathered by him?”

I will tell you in good time just make me a promise

That you’ll get rid of the noisy Ssekoko with a voice that I can’t bear with

“Well you are quite heartless,” Nambi replied

They tried to kill me 

“Okay fine,”

“Though Spider, you seem very knowledgeable about what happens in the palace, could you tell me about where the next task father wants to give Kintu?”

A well, a basket, a beast with a heart

The poor little thing 

He looked like a fool

“What if I made you another promise,” Nambi whispered, “get rid of his troubles and I will make sure the hens do not bother you ever again,”

A fool, a beast, and a creep

That rock should have stayed closed

But I think I now like it

The spider had just started off on its journey through the cracks when Nambi called back, “Spider, am I the creep?”

I should have called you the fool

Because clearly you are not like me

“What?”

Argh, yes, yes you are the creep

“And what about…” Nambi cried from a distance in semi loud whispers

Spider didn’t care anymore, all she wanted was to get rid of the Ssekoko and its dreaded hens. She crawled forward ignoring Nambi’s insistent questions that she could hear less of the further she went.

To be continued next week on Wednesday. Please remember to comment and share