Kibu ceremonial plateau was in sight, Lekuta villagers were already there and still keen on keeping the age old rivalry alive. They had lined up their initiates on the right side of the plateau, they stood behind them singing and dancing in enormous vigour. To the extreme left their five bulls were tied down waiting for the clan elders who would soon slaughter and make a feast for the ceremony.
Mariani's bulls were also taken and the ten elders, five from each village fully versed in the ways of the clan ushered the bulls aside further into the clearing to begin their work. For the people were hungry and a feast was in order.
Mariani's initiates lined up opposite their Lekuta counterparts. Behind them their kin broke into song and dance. They sang the war songs of old, of their village's triumphs and conquests so long ago. And it soon was a crescendo of competing choruses, each side not wanting to be outdone by the other.
Johari smiled at the debacle, he wondered as he always did. Just when did this rivalry actually begin. As he mused on this a white butterfly flew just across his face, delicately flapping her petal like wings against the Sereti breeze.
Moseti Kalibari stood at the centre of the Lekuta initiates. He had observed the Mariani procession as it arrived and lined up across them.
"One day I might very well lead a war against these men infront of me." he thought.
"One of them may very likely be their chief then. Who might it be?"
Mariani had no chief heir and he knew that it would be one of these initiates who probably would rise to General and wed a chiefs daughter to ascend to the throne.
He scrutinized the strange faces one by one trying to assess their strengths. He saw a somewhat familiar face but shrugged it off only for a distant memory of a tall, scrawny unkempt kid to surface.
Moseti Kalibari scowled and looked more closely at the rather tall, lean Mariani initiate who was at that moment smiling sheepishly at a butterfly, seemingly oblivious to everything else.
He felt the old hatred creeping back as he observed his relaxed countenance. He clenched his fist, cursing as the care free Mariani herdsboy reached out for the butterfly and missed before grinning at himself.
"Ever without a damn care whatsoever." Moseti hissed.
He thought of what it had taken for him to be standing there. Of the hours and hours of preparations, he had orchestrated where to best stand, even practiced how to walk and stand in a regal authoritative manner. All this so as not to shame his royal status and family.
He did not understand why he had to share the same spot with a carefree herdsboy who was busy catching insects for fun at such an important event.
Johari Tembo reached out to hold the beautiful white butterfly once more but missed and it flew off upwards towards the sky.
He grinned as he watched it go.
"Off you go little princess, try to reach the sun and let her envy your beauty, and if you tire along the way rest your wings in the floating clouds and come back soon with the soft rains."
Johari felt somewhat uneasy and he looked across to the Lekuta initiates. He noticed a scowling face looking directly at him. A little puzzled he looked at the rather robust figure at the centre of the Lekuta lines. He gasped with recognition as he noticed the royal snobby stance.
"Ah, the pampered chief's heir son," he snickered as his mood changed at once.
He remembered that time, so many moons ago. Of how he had scoured the Sereti plains for days looking for the pampered brat. But he had at last given up, concluding that the cowardly brat had chosen to hide behind his bodyguards and royal homestead.
"He remembers me, that's good."
"We have some unfinished business your Highness."
Johari scowled back and the two rival initiates began a stare contest that was to last for hours as the two chiefs spoke to their people, and as the elders blessed the grounds. The initiates were dedicated to the spirits of their ancestors.
Later on the villagers gorged themselves on the meat and wineskins as they talked and talked of past and future tales. Soon the African sun came down the horizon to end yet another day in the sprawling plains.
The initiates would sleep in Kibu plateau and embark South at dawn to Shitu valley. It was a full days walk to where they would be forged into warriors.
White butterfly.
her white petal like wings take to the air,
as delicate as a feathers touch,
a tough wind sadly beguiles her,
strong and fierce it blows,
it throws her in turmoil,
how brave she must be,
to be out there, so frail
utterly at nature's cruel mercy,
alas, she does not hide
neath huge rock,or high nest
she flies out to feel the sun,
she flies out to kiss the beautiful rose,
she flies out to live each moment,
for I think she truly understands,
not everyone makes it,
out of their dark cocoons.
fin.
The rivals meet face to face after so long! Who is your favourite so far, I always try to portray both sides of our two protagonists. It will get deeper as we go on, that's the main theme of brave souls. Apologies for the slow build up , perfection takes time. *wink.
Thanks so much for taking the time and for your patience. Like, Vote, Comment , MP for more poems. This poem esp had me in the feels.
Happy August. Remember be all you can be, that's why you're here.
See you in the next chapter.
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Brave Souls. (Book One.)
المغامرةThe Lionheart Series. Book one : Brave Souls. In the far away lands, deep in the African Savannah, the fragile peace between two rival villages will come undone. Two rising warriors find themselves thrust in the middle of it all. On one side Johari...
