Mighty Brahmuhn
Vakunda : The Witch Couple

Cheetah had finally made it to the riverbank. His nightmare was over.

The waters had become still. Not a single sound could be heard, not only from the waters but from anywhere else. The still silence unnerved him. He had forgotten about the pain in his shoulder. He wanted to yell for Brahmuhn’s name but he was beginning to think the worst. All he could do was scour the river with his eyes.

Suddenly, one or two bubbles rippled on the surface. The bubbles would ripple once every two seconds but eventually, the interval would lessen. They finally stopped and the ghostly silence returned.

Like logs that had been held underwater for too long, one by one the bodies of the women floated to the surface until finally, Brahmuhn’s knobkerrie.

Cheetah was aghast. Had the “Great Brahmuhn” finally met his fate? He refused to believe that something so impossible could be proven possible.

Just then, Brahmuhn’s hand reached forth from the depths of the river and grabbed his knobkerrie. His head followed as he gasped wildly for air.

Cheetah gave a deep sigh of relief as he watched Brahmuhn swim towards him.

‘I guess the legends are true,’ Cheetah laughed helping Brahmuhn out of the water. His laugh was motivated by a great sense of relief.

Brahmuhn laughed too but his laugh was exhausted. ‘I got lucky, Cheetah.’

‘I guess Mwari was with us today.’

‘I didn’t see him.’

As usual, not many words were traded between Brahmuhn and Cheetah when they continued along their journey. Although fatigued, Brahmuhn’s attitude was as though nothing had happened and as a result, Cheetah could not help but sneak one or two glances of admiration at him.

After a four mile journey they stumbled upon another village. From the structure of the huts it was clear that this was a Shona village. Brahmuhn could not help but feel at home. The animals in this village were gravely thin. Most of the ground was bare as if the drought had chosen this particular village for practice. There were no joyful children in sight, dancing and singing nor were there any women ululating or gossiping outside their huts. His comfort drastically turned to pity. Most of the visible villagers were sitting by the entrances of their huts either huddled together or by themselves.

Cheetah walked towards one villager, a boney man sitting at the entrance of his hut.

The man’s eyes were turned towards the sky, his hands dangling between his legs as if he was in a trance or had been poisoned. Just like the rest of the villagers, the man looked pathetic. His boney appearance was probably because of starvation.

Cheetah tried shaking his shoulders gently. The first two shakes did not achieve a response and he therefore resorted to shaking the man violently the third time.

The man still did not respond but maintained his hypnotic state.

They suddenly heard loud laughs from another hut at the center of the village. The two warriors stood ready for whoever it was.

Out of the hut emerged two people. One was a well-built man with a long scruffy black beard. Beside him was a woman who was either as old as if not a year or two younger than him. Since the pair did not look like a threat, Brahmuhn and Cheetah walked towards them but with an air of caution.

‘Who are you and what is wrong with this village?’ Brahmuhn asked them with a tone of authority.

The man raised his hand to Brahmuhn’s face.

Although the man looked old, Brahmuhn could feel a sense of strength coming from the man.

’How lucky we are to be in the presence of, “The Great Brahmuhn”, the old man praised him sarcastically. ‘The man who has brought the most powerful Ndebele armies to their knees. The man who has broken the skulls of “monsters” and “devils” with nothing in his hand but a simple stick with a knob at its end.’

The old woman smirked and said, ‘The god who walks among men.’

The old man chuckled, ‘Your blood shall write our names in the temple of our ancestors!’

Brahmuhn then realized that the two were not just a delusional old man and old woman. These were witches! He began to walk backwards slowly, his hand on Cheetah’s chest pushing him further back behind him. ‘Who are you?’ Brahmuhn asked them.

‘We are Vakunda,’ (The Conquerors) the old man answered him.

He now remembered who they were. His adoptive father, Chief Kindi, had often told him disturbing stories of a powerful witch couple by this name when he was still in his teen years. What he was told however, was that the couple, “Vakunda”, only terrorized Ndebele villages. The man went by the name, “Akunda” and the woman, “Makunda”.

‘This is not a Ndebele village,’ Brahmuhn pointed out.

‘Yes, but…Chief Mbada pays well!’ Makunda yelled before she thrust her hands in Brahmuhn’s direction.

He felt his body go numb. An unforeseen and powerful wind flung Brahmuhn through the roof of a nearby hut.

Akunda, the old man also thrust his hand at Cheetah and the same powerful and unforeseen wind threw him through the roof of another hut.

Brahmuhn quickly got out of the hut. He began swinging his knobkerrie beside him.