INCANTATIONS UPON THE DEPARTURE OF THUNDER FOR A MORTAL MISSION[1]
Sampson Nkwetatang Nguekie
I am seldom convinced
That conclusions established by researchers are to be relied upon.
But be careful.
This can only hold with the natural, but with the supernatural, I can never be convinced.
Especially when it involves African mystery.
Any attempt to understand how it functions is a sheer waste of time and energy.
A typical example of such a mystery is the departure of thunder for a mortal mission.
You are welcome to this small entertainment in the interior fringes of a local settlement.
* * *
Western civilisation has invented many scientific marvels
Like the radio, the television, the telephone, the computer and the internet.
But African mystery has remained untamed, unfathomed, and unruffled.
The most annoying thing with it is that it best performs
Only when it sets out to destroy human life.
It does not embark on a construction programme.
This is the exact point where it is punished and condemned
Never to progress and match western marvels.
Once more, you are welcome.
My name is Walingeugh.
I am seventy-five, and a native of Kang-Kulu.
Would you like to know our historical heritage before we proceed to explore this subject?
I will be very grateful.
* * *
We – the people of Kang-Kulu of the Lower Maluzi Mountains
Are descendants of the war-like Bebongo Ethnic Group.
We sojourned from the Extreme East shortly after the First World War,
Conquered many small tribes around the river Talibe, and settled thereabouts.
Kang-Kulu in our dialect means ‘brave warriors’.
The Bebongo; our ancestors called it Gwi-Wah,
Which means killer of the enemy.
Maluzi-Mebong; our great mountains provide us with alluvial soils
Which are excellent for the cultivation of cash crops like cocoa, coffee and rubber.
Farming and lumbering are our sole economic activities.
I am seldom convinced
That conclusions established by researchers are to be relied upon.
But be careful.
This can only hold with the natural, but with the supernatural, I can never be convinced.
Especially when it involves African mystery.
Any attempt to understand how it functions is a sheer waste of time and energy.
A typical example of such a mystery is the departure of thunder for a mortal mission.
You are welcome to this small entertainment in the interior fringes of a local settlement.
* * *
Western civilisation has invented many scientific marvels
Like the radio, the television, the telephone, the computer and the internet.
But African mystery has remained untamed, unfathomed, and unruffled.
The most annoying thing with it is that it best performs
Only when it sets out to destroy human life.
It does not embark on a construction programme.
This is the exact point where it is punished and condemned
Never to progress and match western marvels.
Once more, you are welcome.
My name is Walingeugh.
I am seventy-five, and a native of Kang-Kulu.
Would you like to know our historical heritage before we proceed to explore this subject?
I will be very grateful.
* * *
We – the people of Kang-Kulu of the Lower Maluzi Mountains
Are descendants of the war-like Bebongo Ethnic Group.
We sojourned from the Extreme East shortly after the First World War,
Conquered many small tribes around the river Talibe, and settled thereabouts.
Kang-Kulu in our dialect means ‘brave warriors’.
The Bebongo; our ancestors called it Gwi-Wah,
Which means killer of the enemy.
Maluzi-Mebong; our great mountains provide us with alluvial soils
Which are excellent for the cultivation of cash crops like cocoa, coffee and rubber.
Farming and lumbering are our sole economic activities.
* * *
At the leeward side of the mountains is a great lake which is very famous
For its tremendous and fascinating mysteries.
In its bosom lives a revengeful god called Taa-Muchi.
Indeed, he is our god of thunder.
A sacrifice of three goats, ten cocks, two bags of salt
And twenty litres of palm wine is made to it twice a year.
If this sacrifice is not made, it will take away the lives of all the new-born babies
In the entire village in two days and two nights.
And we will have ourselves to blame.
* * *
We the people of Kang-Kulu have a very ceremonial culture.
Taa-Muchi, our lake god of thunder is worshiped by six carefully selected elders of the land.
Viyenga is one of them.
He rises barely one metre thirty centimetres between the ground and the sky.
His threadbare clothes are not very friendly with water,
Either because he scarcely pulls them off his body,
Or because they have made a comfortable hid-out for lice.
Honestly speaking, he bathes just once in a blue moon.
Viyenga is not a man to trifle with.
He calls himself a genteel.
He respects you as much as you respect yourself.
Till you annoy him many times, he does not react.
Than that he owes you, you owe him.
He avoids loud and aggressive people, and does not entertain quarrels.
* * *
One Tisang morning; our local Sunday,
I saw and heard what I may never see and hear again till I close my eyes.
It was a grave situation in which Viyenga was sending thunder to kill Yamuku; his archenemy.
His words and demonstrations were very severe,
Grave, solemn, and overflowing with dread and terror.
It was raining heavily.
Viyenga stepped into the roof droplets with a new axe
And two arrows anointed with the fresh blood an instantly slaughtered bat.
He ate three grains of aligatta pepper and called the name of the lake god twice.
Then, while raising the arrows up in the heavens with his left hand,
He pointed to the new axe now rammed into a log of camwood, and incanted as follows:
“Taa-Muchi,
Son of Dji-Mupuh and of Ndong-Kwalack,
Grandson of Nupoghap,
This is the hand of Viyenga knocking at your door.
This is the voice of the son of Suzi-Kang calling on you.
Woe betides the man who picks the egg of an eagle.
Cursed is the child who abuses his mother’s womb.
Unfortunate is the woman who harvests beyond the bounds of her farm.
Unhappy days await the man who throws stones at a mad man.
Death instantly strikes the man who says he does not want to die.
Taa-Muchi,
Revengeful thunderbolt,
Ravenous fire-flicker,
Prepare yourself for a mortal mission.
This is the time for you to demonstrate your unrivaled fury.
Yes, this is the time for you to go and strike down the enemy.
Yamuku; my archenemy.
You are aware of all the pain which Yamuku has inflicted on me.
Three years ago, he poisoned the drink of my foreman, and hastened his journey beyond.
A year later, he threw kekah; the deadly malady on my aunt,
And she is still suffering from it today.
And since he is a prominent member of the House of Elders,
He borrowed some money there and paid the bride price of his second wife.
I was his suretee.
He did not pay the money, and the House indebted me.
I have asked for my money from him many times, and he has told me to go to hell.
– That I should just forget about it.
And I am in desperate need of it now to buy zinc for my house which rains will soon destroy.
I asked for it one Zah market day,
And he gave me a hard blow on my jawbone in the eyes of busy market peoples.
What a broad daylight humiliation!
You remember.
You remember how I have sent you twice to threaten him to pay my debt.
The first time, you lifted him up in the air and dashed him into a swamp.
The second time, you stripped him naked at the crescendo of a traditional dance.
And when he found out that it was my handicraft, he came and urinated across my threshold,
Boasting that I could not do anything to him.
Taa-Muchi,
Son of Dji-Mupuh and of Ndong-Kwalack,
Grandson of Nupoghap,
This is the hand of Viyenga knocking at your door.
This is the voice of the son of Suzi-Kang calling on you.
Please, answer my call instantly.
I have fulfilled all the demands of this most reverent ritual.
I have fastened the two lambs near the lake.
I have flung the seven thousand seven hundred and seventy francs into the lake.
I have drunk two horns-full of the lake water and nodded twice as the cult demands.
The lake has sent signal waves to the direction of the onslaught.
This is testimonial that you have approved the mortal mission.
Taa-Muchi,
Revengeful thunderbolt,
Ravenous fire-flicker,
Get ready for this fabulous journey.
I trust your predominant wrath.
I have confidence in your merciless tornado.
Go now and strike the enemy.
Yamuku; my archenemy.
I have pardoned him many times.
This time, I will not pardon him any longer.
He will pay for all his malicious deeds.
He will pay for his vaulting pride.
And nobody will sympathise with him because he is responsible for his predicament.
Grandson of Nupoghap,
I evoke you to go now,
I urge you to go now.
Go like a sparrow on transit.
Go like a deer on marathon.
Go in the form of lightening and hurricane.
Go in the company of thunder, of storm and of tempest.
Trace Yamuku wherever he may be, and strike him down.
You have pitied him twice.
Don’t pity him the third time.
If you do, he will conclude that you are a coward,
Of which you are a descendant of brave warriors.
Stumble Yamuku headlong.
Knock his forehead with this axe and dash out his brains.
Lift him in the air and crack his teeth against the sharpest and flintiest rocks.
Split his stomach, ransack his intestines and stop his heart from beating.
I trust you in the art of mortality.
I have confidence in your red vengeance.
* * *
Saramanga Kantamahu Ofiro!
Today, Yamuku’s head rolls.
He has engineered his death himself.
He has reached for it with his own hands.
He has requested for it with his own mouth.
He has asked for the cure of his age-old malady,
And today, he will be administered the perfect medication.
Revengeful thunderbolt,
Ravenous fire-flicker,
Go without looking behind you.
Look for Yamuku wherever he may be, and do to him exactly as I have said.
After all, you have never failed.
Trace his footprints till you get to him.
Leave here and go straight to the farms.
He will certainly be there harvesting more than he planted.
If he is not there, make straight for the market square.
He will likely be there drinking palm wine
And planning how to poison his neighbour’s drink.
That is his trade from time unremembered.
Taa-Muchi,
Don’t let it dawn today on Yamuku still alive.
Make sure that you send him packing.
Make sure that you lower him six feet below the earth’s surface.
Sink him so that he lives no more.
Silent him forever and ever.
* * *
Today, Yumuku dies.
His death will not pay my debt anyway.
But let him die and I forget that anybody owes me.
As long as he lives, the debt reminds me that I have something, but the thing is not forthcoming.
Don’t return without doing your job.
A job in which you are a veteran.
After all, you never set out and return without striking.
If you don’t find the enemy at all, or he escapes into a chapel,
Release your strength on something else.
Either strike a eucalyptus tree nearby, or blow off the roof
Of an abandoned or dilapidated building in the neighbourhoods.
Let it suffer the burden of your failure.
* * *
Woe betides the man who picks the egg of an eagle.
Cured is the child who abuses his mother’s womb.
Unfortunate is the woman who harvests beyond the boundaries of her farm.
Unhappy days await the man who throws stones at a mad man.
Death instantly takes the man who says he does not want to die.
Taa-Muchi,
Son of Dji-Mupuh and of Ndong-Kwalack,
Grandson of Nupoghap,
Revengeful thunderbolt,
Ravenous fire-flicker,
You have set out for the mortal mission.
Mission accompli.
Mission terminée!
Today, Yamuku’s head rolls.
He has engineered his death himself.
He has reached for it with his own hands.
He has requested for it with his own mouth.
He has asked for the cure of his age-old malady,
And today, he will be administered the perfect medication.
Revengeful thunderbolt,
Ravenous fire-flicker,
Go without looking behind you.
Look for Yamuku wherever he may be, and do to him exactly as I have said.
After all, you have never failed.
Trace his footprints till you get to him.
Leave here and go straight to the farms.
He will certainly be there harvesting more than he planted.
If he is not there, make straight for the market square.
He will likely be there drinking palm wine
And planning how to poison his neighbour’s drink.
That is his trade from time unremembered.
Taa-Muchi,
Don’t let it dawn today on Yamuku still alive.
Make sure that you send him packing.
Make sure that you lower him six feet below the earth’s surface.
Sink him so that he lives no more.
Silent him forever and ever.
* * *
Today, Yumuku dies.
His death will not pay my debt anyway.
But let him die and I forget that anybody owes me.
As long as he lives, the debt reminds me that I have something, but the thing is not forthcoming.
Don’t return without doing your job.
A job in which you are a veteran.
After all, you never set out and return without striking.
If you don’t find the enemy at all, or he escapes into a chapel,
Release your strength on something else.
Either strike a eucalyptus tree nearby, or blow off the roof
Of an abandoned or dilapidated building in the neighbourhoods.
Let it suffer the burden of your failure.
* * *
Woe betides the man who picks the egg of an eagle.
Cured is the child who abuses his mother’s womb.
Unfortunate is the woman who harvests beyond the boundaries of her farm.
Unhappy days await the man who throws stones at a mad man.
Death instantly takes the man who says he does not want to die.
Taa-Muchi,
Son of Dji-Mupuh and of Ndong-Kwalack,
Grandson of Nupoghap,
Revengeful thunderbolt,
Ravenous fire-flicker,
You have set out for the mortal mission.
Mission accompli.
Mission terminée!
[1] From Incantations of the Guiltless, First Ceremony, ‘Repsy’ A New Literary Genre, 2008