By Some Susan
Continued from #1
NOTE:
cee *pronunciation: che*, *meaning: to be silent*
Nyinarimi *maternal uncle*
Mutabani *son*
βWhat do you want now?β the phrase that always welcomed Kintu to Ruhanga’s great hall rang out.
βGreat and kind ruler ofβ¦β Kintu started as he bowed.
βCee cee cee cee, get straight to the point. Favours, questions and more favours β thatβs all you earth dwellers ever care for. Whereβs that girl Nambi? When will you bring my grandchildren to see me?β
βGulu sounds a lot like you, grandpa,β the rascal laughed out, calling for a silencing slap at the back of his head.
Despite Guluβs complaining, he always had an answer. βYour sons have one problem; they are exactly like you βwhiny and weak he coughed.
βTeach them to embrace their gifts. Their talents, rather than obligation should dictate their role in that home.β
A smile shot across Kintuβs face. The old manβs hints always sent ideas running through his mind. He was sure he had a full proof plan to set in motion. He turned, excited to embark on a long journey but hesitated to continue with his retreat ,when he heard a familiar bark.
βMAN!β
He looked back at the god, with his knees trembling like a leaf in a gale.
βItβs a beautiful home,β Gulu mumbled.
Kintu hadnβt gotten much approval over the years, but that statement was all he needed to drive him forward.
Nightfall found him back at his familyβs side β his face brightened by the dancing flames, similar to those by which heβd stared at each of his sonsβ faces at the time of their birth. When had life gotten so complicated again, he wondered. After his tasks with Gulu and the rift with Walumbe, heβd felt so victorious; his bright future, a trophy to hold.
βTasks!β he gasped, laughing at the irony of the matter: how he dreaded that time.
His thoughts were disturbed by the commotion between his sons and Nambi and for a moment there, he allowed himself to take in his surroundings.
βKano, stop it!β Nambi yelled.
βIβll talk to him, mother,β the eldest muttered.
βHeβs always throwing tantrums,let him stay mad tonight!β the second uttered.
βYou people never treat me right!β the youngest whined.
βAnother scuffle, I see. Whatβs going on now?β Kintu pitched in, while Nambi, frustrated, wiped the sweat off her forehead; still as beautiful as ever.
βHe spilled the beans; thinks he should eat a beastβs flesh every day. Perhaps you should join your nyinarimi and devour us all!β the second erupted.
βThatβs enough!β Kintu yelled, standing tall to cast a shadow over the three.
Solemn faces turned to face Nambi, whose eyes welled up with tears. Sheβd lost so many already. She suddenly groaned in pain, releasing the hot pot sheβd held on to for too long, in a daze.
Kano, the first rushed to her side, blowing frantically at her hands. The second looked aside, embarrassed. The third stood up to flee the scene of the despair heβd caused, with a little of the loin cloth arched between his buttocks.
βI didnβt mean to hurt you, mother,β the second sighed.
βI think Iβm done for the night,β Nambi muttered, gracefully taking her leave. Sheβd been left in tatters after so much loss and fleeing. Sheβd named and buried so many of her children that none of this made sense anymore. It was only a matter of time before Walumbe came for these three. Theyβd only survived this long because Kintu found a safe cave by the lake shore. The waters were a gift from the heavens.
βIβm done too,β the second groaned, rushing away, before he received the lecture he was sure awaited him.
Kintu settled on the rock behind him, staring at the flames again, his ears picking up the sound of Kano picking up the broken pot pieces.
βWhy didnβt you speak?β he asked his son, Kano the first.
βWhy should I? We all know this family lives by a thread.β
βYou know what I meant, mutabani. They both listen to you. This scuffle could have ended earlier.β
βHmmph,β he sighed, βKano is just spoilt. He needs some sense pumped into that thick little skull β if it could fit anyway.β They laughed. βSpoilt and stubborn is just a lot for him to outgrow at this age.β
βPerhaps he needs a goddess to open his mind up, like you father,β he mocked the old manβs repetitive stories.
βThe other oneβs rage can only be subdued by a grass stem sagging between his teeth, while he watches the sunset over the cattle β also like you. Or is it that cow dung that soothes you people.β he laughed again.
Kintu grinned at the realization of his sonβs immense insight. βKano, you really are the first. I want you to know something,β he bent to rest his hand on the boyβs shoulder.
βI have seen so many lands, gods and people; even the heavens. This life has taught me something today: the most effective kind of leader β he leads from the back, changing the dynamics from the shadows.β
βFather, that sounds more like a coward than a leader,β Kano interrupted.
βWhat does the word service sound like to you?β Kintu asked.
βLike enslavement to a cause that despises you; bonded by obedience and pathetic hope. Thatβs what happened to Kayikuzi, right? Who knows where he is now?β
βYou remind me so much of him. Remember that he too avoided his destiny for a while; but when you exist to maintain order, you can never hide far enough from the chaos.β
βTell your brothers to meet me here as soon as the sun pours over this very spotβ, he grunted, departing to meet his distraught wife.
βThis story is too depressing Shwenkuru,β the boy groaned. βHow can one family be so sad?β
βThatβs what happens, son, when man does not live up to his own expectations; when a boy forgets to define his purpose for living. Even the rivers flow toward a destination.β
βAh, ah! Your stories are usually funnier than this. Next time, Iβll just follow Nessi to fetch water.β He stretched. At least the girls always sing songs and let me show them a few of my dance moves.β He hopped around while shaking a leg in the air.
βEeh!β I raised my hand toward him , making him fall back and stagger.
βSo you wonβt escort me tomorrow. I guess Iβll just tell my stories to the nomads as they pass,β I grinned.
βNomads?β
βYes, nomads. With so many varieties of cattle that you canβt tell each oneβs story. Longhorned, rumped, some with horns bent to touch the ground.β
βBut Shwenkuru; why take everything so personal,β the boy laughed. You know your back is weak. Who would carry a pot for your water on such a long walk besides me? Come, come. Iβll escort you to mother, and you will tell her that Iβm excused from tomorrowβs chores.β
βSome tricks never get old,β I laughed to myself.
TO BE CONTINUED
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This story is a continuation from Sons of the gods #1
http://muwado.com/sons-of-the-gods-1/
Edited by Abe Elizabeth & Mugabe Victor
Art by mugabevictor180@