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THE TRIBE OF THE THIEVES

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THE TRIBE OF THE THIEVES

Post by Admin on Mon May 08, 2017 8:35 am


DAY FIVE
THE TRIBE OF THE THIEVES
(De fures in tribus)
 
Many days passed as those horrible memories perished, to find Anita was the only mission in my head; so one morning I woke up from that lonely house, the house that chased away my guests; I was alone and the only friend of mine was a man on the radio; the message from the song reminded me of so many things:
 
Man on the Radio

The Lord sends poverty and wealth,
He humbles and he exalts
He brings death and makes alive,
He brings down to the grave and he rises up.
 
We can’t get the money,
Allah-because there’s no money,
Allah-and if there’s money,
Allah-is not our money-Allah?

Bones for poor- flesh for rich,

Take your water am not a fish,
Don’t forget this in your speech,
Am still a poor man
 
Them say we have many parks,
Them say we have many trees,
Them say we have many mines,
Am still a poor man
 
Children are sitting on stones,
Neither chair nor desk in school
And your promise better life,
Am still a poor man
 
In the North is Afro top,
In the East Erythraean sea,
Inland we have many lakes,
Am still a poor man

Graduates don’t have a job,

In the office all your friends,
And you want my vote again,
Am still a poor man
 
Marijuana is what you see,
But corruption down your feet,
In the school they are selling names,
Am still a poor man
 
Suddenly it was silent, the man on the radio stopped; I knew that those guys who wakes up early in the morning, saying goodbye to their wives that they are leaving for the office to find for them their daily bread; for sure they were at work. Their job was to cut off the power whenever they felt to do so; at the end of the month, they got paid for causing loss to people’s economy. Life without electricity means death, but to them it was a way of living. They belonged to the twelve century before Christ, but I wondered who gave them such a position in that high time of modernity.
 
That early morning I woke up from my rags and my intuition told me to go to a witch doctor to find Anita. I knew the ways of the witch doctor and how they do their things; I brushed my forty teeth and took shower, then I prepared my breakfast. On the table there was a plate full of Mesopotamian worms, a bowl of Nubian cockroaches and a glass of Hippo’s milk from Hiddekel. That was my favorite dish, so I really enjoyed; it was yummy. When I finished, I closed the windows and shut the door; as I was leaving the house, reaching outside the gate, I saw someone with a very unusual stature; a man with a round face like an ancient Ethiopian Chapatti, a very big nose like an old pumpkin from the Great Zimbabwe, big jaws like those of King Kong, very old like the ruins of Mohenjo-Daro, an irregular head like sweet potatoes from Deutsch-Ostafrika, but short like the Mbuti of Zaire.
 
I asked for his identity; hey tall boy, what are you? Lost Tourist? What is your name? “Atido”, my name is Atido Tungi, the younger brother of Sophia Herman Tungi. What? What have you just said? Don’t tell me that you’re my in-law, are you? “Yes, I am” the tall boy replied. Oh! If you may excuse me, I was just on my way to the shrine, I hope you won’t mind if you join me; he agreed and we left the civilization.
 
On our way the tall boy asked me so many questions, every three paces, he stopped and asked a question till we were about to reach the shrine. When we reached there, the tall boy was nowhere to be seen, he disappeared. I was very shocked, I almost fainted; I decided to return home, I just forgot about seeing the witch doctor and told myself to find a very powerful Pastor to come and anoint my house and cast out all the magic spells and demons.
 
On Thursday morning of February 14, 2002; a man of God visited my house, this one was Pastor Richard Ganji of Devotion Ministries International, and he came with his wife Mrs. Maria Latina. The couple prayed for about half an hour and the house disappeared. They told me that it was never there; they said that when they reached there, what they saw was the belly of the beast. So this time that my house is gone, where am I going to live? I asked them; my son, don’t you worry, Jesus is your new home, and you’re welcome. They left me there with a very welcoming note, “if you’re done with the goodbyes, come to the church, your Valentine awaits”.
 
It took me hours to try forgetting the names of my history makers, names like Sophia and Anita. I even blamed myself for inviting that Pastor and his wife; maybe they envied my house and so they tricked me with their magic and stole my house. I decided to look for another powerful man of God; so I wondered the whole Romata. I even went back to the brothel and coincidentally I met Anita there. She was very sick, I took her to the nearby dispensary and she died there from Falciparum Malaria.
 
For sure life in Romata was very tough at the time; many citizens emigrated from that armpit of the Planet to the Republic of Nopinia where life was very expensive but at least affordable especially in some places like Winners Island and Senoburg. To live in the capital Port Anipi was almost impossible to the lower class. Many went to Yellow Dove Island, I decided to go to Port Anipi because my friend Professor Nguru was also living there, somebody told me to go to Yellow Dove but I really wanted to enjoy the beauty of Nopinia; the beaches, women, night clubs and national parks all in the capital.
 
My boyhood friend President David Coin was in power, so Nopinia was a perfect place for me. Life in Romata remained a history; such a wicked nation was only suitable for corrupt politicians like Kassorobo and men of God like Sango and Ganji. I left the country for good that summer, it was much better because everything turned to be a thorn in the flesh. Living in such a house of broken hearts was not good for me. As I was leaving, my long time friend Nzaly Kasisi telephoned me, he was also moving to Nopinia, he came with his Hammer, so we travelled together.
 
The shades of darkness were getting closer, and birds of prey were coming out from their nests; the ugly face of an Eagle Owl scared other birds, the sky turned red as the Sun was hurrying to hide, another phase of the day was spreading its tentacles as the darkness was knocking at the western gates of the heaven. We were running out of gas and there was no any fuelling station in the vicinity. We were in the middle of the jungle; we packed the car amid the road in order to lesser the danger of getting bitten by the mythical winged snakes.
 
My Grandma told me that once upon a time there was a tribe, they lived in the jungle, they worshiped winged snakes and they sacrificed virgin girls, twins and Albinos for the reptiles in order to please them. The rituals went hand in hand with the ‘Gadubadu’, this was the initiation ceremony where a barren woman was brought to a village square and then raped to death by all uncircumcised men who were then getting circumcised during the funeral of the barren woman.
 
In order to become a full member of the tribe, men were required to steal from the nearby villages, kidnap fifty children each week, rape ten women each day and kill a hundred lions each month for good two years. The tribe came to be known as “the tribe of the thieves” due to their routine robbery and accumulation of wealth, the tradition that was passed from one generation to the next through deoxyribonucleic acid.
 
During the colonial invasion of Rolmaghata, the native name for the modern Romata, the colonial Police force killed the Chief of the tribe after his refusal to surrender the village to the colonialists. His private soldiers were said to invade the city during the night and kidnapped the Governor; in the morning all the police were naked and tied at the town square, all women and children were forced to flog them to death and their corpses were thrown into a lion’s den.
 
Back then Romata was not a place to colonize; the Suligy Militia was very active and strong, they used threats and coercion when peace talks failed and sometimes they used magic when democracy failed and they were ready to die for their country rather than surrendering to an invading army. They maintained their strength for centuries until they were ruined from within by the puppets. Many were captured and hanged to death during the second colonial invasion of Rolmaghata. Some were roasted and served as lunch to Missionaries while others were taken as slaves to work in the plantations and mines in Ghost Island.
 
Few of them escaped and turned back to the jungle, some into the caves and others disappeared to nowhere. The colonial government changed the country from Rolmaghata (the Land of Winged Snakes) to Romata (Rule of Masters and the Abactors), the colonial motto which meant Slavery and Theft.
 
The Governor was lost forever, his body was never found; some said that the Militia used his head to please the reptiles, his hind and fore limbs for firewood and the rest for the god of vengeance (Tamaroo) to avenge the death of their Chief. Grandma also told me that during the Gadubadu virgin girls prepared to be sacrificed were forced to sing the goodbye song which left the audience in tears. Before they were into the bellies of the Mega Snakes, the girls sung this song of great sadness…
 
The Goodbye Song
 
Will you be pleased, if you swallow me?
Are you not so big to feed on me?
Am just a little, take a look at me
O mighty winged, have mercy on me
 
If no other choice, so take me now
Come and rejoice, my humble vow
Don’t dry my voice, so let me bow
O mighty winged, have mercy on me
 
After the song, the winged snakes appeared and swallowed them all, and then they disappeared and waited till the next year to reappear. Years passed and then in the end, men started sleeping with their daughters and some even impregnated them only to save them from the snakes. Rolmaghata was a Hell on Earth Country by then. Sometimes the people thanked the colonialists for eradicating those wicked filthy cultural practices. But the new God from Europe only favored the Europeans and their fellow White men from Asia and America.
 
My Grandma told me so many stories about the history of this country, the nature of mankind and how this world came into existence. But my friend was already afraid of the winged snakes, so he told me never to continue narrating to him again. It was already late, despite of tinted windows; we saw giant mosquitoes flying over and above the Hammer. They were the ones that cause Yellow fever, Malaria and Dengue. That meant to get out of the car was fetching one’s own death. The jungle was scary, very scary. We were worried about our lives and our car, the story of the winged snakes and the tribe of the thieves made it even scarier than before.
 
After seven minutes of absolute silence, I heard something from the distance; it was the voice of a man calling from the wilderness, my friend was asleep already, I woke him up, a hyena laughed, then an Owl, then followed by footsteps of a very tall, dreaded men; walking like Zombies, we knew we were dead already. They came near the car, the way they dressed; I came to realize that they were the members of the tribe that lived in the jungle. I thought they wanted to rob us, but instead they watched us the whole night, they even gave us some roasted bush meat and cassava for dinner. They were fifteen men, eight women and four little babies.
 
The dawn of the new day, Militiamen and their families were still there, they laid their children down the road and covered them with Banana leaves, men and women were standing near the car watching us. We walked out of the car and told them that we were out of gas, they agreed to push the car to Nopinia but with a single favor, that we put their children in the car, we agreed and they started pushing it. They told us that they too were moving to Nopinia because the forest was getting deforested everyday by the machines from the paper mills owned by some higher government officials.
 
They have tried to plant new trees only to see them destroyed by the herd of cattle from the ranch owned by the Minister of Agriculture. Then they decided to move into the caves but the winged snakes chased them. At last they came back to the jungle which was almost getting cleared; from there they saw thousands of people immigrating to Nopinia during the day because they were afraid of the dark. They decided to move to Nopinia but not during the day because nobody believed that they still existed.
 
They lost the franchise since the second colonial invasion, so the government never bothered to care for them even after the independent day. The government only cared for those who promised to vote for them and this was only during the campaign; after that the chapter was closed only to be opened the next election.
 
Back then in Romata, the term democracy meant “the government of the thieves, by the thieves and for the thieves”, so the tribe expanded although they never realized that. The forgotten tribe ruled the country for centuries and they are still in power but they have forgotten their brothers back in the jungle.
 
A goat is a goat even if mothered by a cow, I asked them; why don’t you go to the capital and join your brothers? They will be very pleased. “Do you think that we will master the modern theft?” one of them asked. The only people who never fail are those who never try, I told them. So they left us there, they took with them their children and their foolishness, they left.
 
I asked myself this question, if all the citizens will move to Nopinia, then what is the meaning of being a leader if there is no one to lead? Is there any government on Earth without the people? Because the country is dead already if it doesn’t care for the lives of its own people; but the stupid tribe thought that the government is really their brother, O poor idiots, they were sleeping when Renaissance came to enlighten them. They always leave their brain at home and head out for the battle. They carried their holey gaberlunzie and disappeared.
 
We were alone again; for sure the journey to Nopinia was just like that of a Sinner trying to get into the gates of New Jerusalem. Many obstacles along the way; I told my friend to leave the car there and take a long walk to the Promised Land. He refused because he loved his Hammer so much; he told me to go and look for gas in Nopinia and then come back. So I left him there because even our cell phones were out of airtime so we couldn’t have called anybody or texted anyone.
 
He remained there standing with his arms akimbo; such a pity moment to abandon a friend in the middle of the jungle. After two miles walk, I came to the scene of the deadly car accident; a Lorry and a Toyota Land Cruiser. Nobody survived the accident but the vehicles didn’t explode; I just unloaded about twenty liters of gas and left the corpses of the drivers to be eaten by the Vultures of the family Accipitridae.
 
My friend Kasisi was very happy to see me, but he was much happier to see the gas; so we fuelled our Hammer and drove off the cursed jungle, we arrived in Port Anipi very late in the evening, such a heavenly city, lights everywhere, high class lodges and lounges, smart women with bigger bums edible for human use. That was the most expensive city on Earth; the cost of a cup of tea in a hotel was equal to the annual budget for three ministries in the Republic of Romata.
 
We parked our Hammer in front of Emperor Haile Selassie Hotel; we lodged a double room and ordered a big meal for dinner, after that; we headed to the Big Day Music Hall, WOW! Sometimes life is very good if you keep seeing beautiful things all the time, and the best of it is only if you will have them for life. The rhythm of romantic melodies accompanied with the bedroom lyrics... I really enjoyed the artistic composition of the verses as I was dancing with Yolanda, a girl on the dancing floor:
 
Home Girl Stay
 
I shall stand alone, until I get a crown
Just stay with me stay at home, we gonna take over throne
Am the one whom you need, babe take me home
Am here for you, and that’s why I was born
 
Am the stone, their leader will be overthrown
If you can try, just hug me through the phone
 
I wanna stay high, like a mountain
I’ll never dry, perpetual like a fountain
Let me fly, in lower higher and plain
They will cry, but let’s laugh no pain
 
Their hearts are plastic; my fist is more than fire
My love is classic, I wanna make you full higher
That’s fantastic, an Emperor without Empire
Am Titanic, you’re only one I admire
 
My yummy girl, I do love you look at my motion
You’re the only one I need, Babe you’re my Lotion
Stay at home girl, Babe my heart is your portion
Am still in love with you, my girl am more than an Ocean
 
Don’t ask what is this? What I need is peace
What I need is kiss, what is need is you my sweet miss
Almighty God who art in heaven, just bless this
Even with a little piece, of what we call bliss
 
Home girl you just rest, Babe you are the best
From East to West Babe feel free, you’re the first
I’ve fallen in love with you, my girl rest on my chest
Downhill and crest, Babe you’re the blessed
 
Welcome in the house, allow me to take your blouse
In the same cage, a bull with some young cows
I wanna stay high like Sun above clouds
In the house, much knowing like a mouse
 
This is a real thing; believe it’s not a novel
And with a great amazement, babe don’t marvel
Babe don’t be afraid, as if you have seen dark gravel
You need a prize of honor, like that of Nobel
 
We left the music hall and went back to the Hotel, it was already in the midnight but Port Anipi was as bright as the Morning Star. I was very sleepy, I forgot even to take Yolanda with me; I went to the bathroom to take shower and I slept there. When I woke up in the morning, I found myself in a little Shanty Town called San Python, the way it smelled like raw adult human shit; I came to the conclusion that it was the Armpit of the World.
 
I never knew how I got there, but I just remembered that I was sleeping in the bathroom and it was in a very luxurious hotel and that’s all. It was in the morning, it was in the evening, it was day one. I slept in one of the classrooms in the nearby school. When it dawned, I walked around and headed to one of the apartments in the nearby, a certain woman came out and barked at me; who the heck are you motherfucker? Are you a new teacher or a new student? I looked at her, her big breasts hanging like magic mangoes on a mango tree, huge like magic Caribbean Papaya; her face black like the buttocks of Satan, I wondered the sperms that fertilized her mother’s ovum, what a waste.
 
As she was still showing me how she can get use of her worthless trumpet, a certain Man come out from that same house; he introduced himself as a Principal and asked me to spare his mad wife. The man welcomed me to his house, he told me never to mention what happened to anybody even at the gun point and I promised never to utter even a single word. I asked about the name of the school and he said; the people called it San Python School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but its official name was Saint Peter’s College of Cultural Heritage.
 
In that town, everyone was either a Witch or a Wizard, so Mr. Principal asked me to go to New Bridge Street; there I could find some rooms for rent and some cheap women. So I left the compounds of the college and went to New Bridge, it was still very early in the morning; the place was really the Toilet of the Earth.
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