Mighty Brahmuhn
Painful Truth

‘You should have pretended to be dead, Brahmuhn!’ Akunda advised him, flashing a threatening grin on his face.

‘Cowards lie on their backs, warriors die on their feet, but I am a god; I soar through the skies!!’ Without warning, his entire arm grew numb and he dropped his knobkerrie. He tried to pick it up with his other arm but it also became numb. He was now running out of options.

Suddenly, an unpredictable and violent wind began to blow around them. Clouds began to gather in the skies with rapid speed as if they were long overdue. With them they brought flashes of lightning and the sound of terrifying thunder. The powerful wind pushed the Vakunda into the wall of a hut. The sound of broken bones could be heard on impact. The two witches tried to crawl their way to safety but like the blinking of an eye, a flash of blue light engulfed the entire village. The light stung everyone’s eyes. It was over faster than it had started.

Vakunda, the pair of witches, was stock-still on the ground.

Brahmuhn was dazed. His eyes sped through the village. No one was willing to take credit for what had happened.

Cheetah finally came out of the hut he had crashed into, his hand clutching his wounded shoulder. The gauntly villagers were trailing behind him.

‘Your Greatness…how…how did you do that?’ one villager asked him.

‘I didn’t,’ Brahmuhn answered still looking around trying to come to terms with what had just happened.

‘It could have been demons,’ one villager spoke.

Brahmuhn and Cheetah turned their attention to the man.

‘You are the “Great Brahmuhn”, aren’t you?’ the villager asked him. ‘That mark on your hand. That tattoo ensures that you are protected by them.’

‘Demons have no control over lightning!’ one villager shouted from the crowd.

The male villager shrugged, ‘Yes but what else could it be? Coincidence?’

Brahmuhn laughed softly, ‘So…you’re telling me that all these wars I have won, all my accomplishments were through the aid of demons?’ he asked him scornfully.

The man nodded, ‘Most likely.’

‘That is pure and utter nonsense!’ he snapped at the man. ‘I am The Mighty Brahmuhn. I do not need some mythical unseen evil to…’

The clouds that had gathered began to emit thunder. Like tears of joy from the gods, heavy rains leaked from the skies. All the villagers began to celebrate: children jumping and singing, women ululating and dancing and the men fetched their drums from their huts and began to beat them like a bad habit.

The moment and the feeling were bittersweet for Brahmuhn. It reminded him of Chaponda Village, the happiness he had left behind, but at the same time it reminded him of that fateful day Chief Mbada had chosen his mother to be his bride. Those wretched lips! The devil’s mouth on his mother’s lips, he thought.

Cheetah placed his hand gently on Brahmuhn’s shoulder.

Brahmuhn turned and looked at him. Cheetah looked elated.

They both smiled at each other then turned their gaze towards the sky. Brahmuhn shut his eyes. The feeling of the raindrops splattering on his face was like a kiss from his mother, Tsitsi Masimba. The peace and joy he felt at that moment was not only indescribable but it was immeasurable as well.

‘Chief Mbada has gone berserk,’ the male villager told Brahmuhn when he and Cheetah sat in the man’s hut. ‘When he found out that your name had become just as, if not more popular than his among both the Shona and the Ndebele, he saw it as betrayal from his own people. He has been gathering troops to destroy most of the Shona and Ndebele villages. The Vakunda, the witch couple you confronted earlier, was employed by Chief Mbada to carry out his ambitions. This is the second Shona village they have terrorized.’

‘What did they do to you?’ Cheetah asked him.

He clenched his fists tightly and turned his gaze to the floor beside him. ‘Those…’ he gulped a globule of saliva mixed with what looked like a traumatic and unquenchable rage, ‘…those vermin cast a spell on the entire village. They placed zvidhoma (goblins) at the edge of the village so that none of us or our livestock could leave. They banished the clouds and as a result, we could not grow any crops because there was no rain. Some of…’ a tear rolled down his eye, ‘…Driven by hunger, two families ate their newborn infants.’

Brahmuhn and Cheetah also looked heated. They felt the man’s pain. For the villagers it must have been like watching hopelessly and helplessly while someone orchestrates your fate. It was all too familiar to Brahmuhn.

‘But how does one employ a witch?’ Brahmuhn asked him curiously. ‘Do witches even care about wealth?’

The man answered, ‘It is possible that Mbada offered them something they could not refuse, like brutally inhumane and senseless pain with the aid of demons since it is rumored that his wife also carries the same medium tattoo that you do.’

Both Brahmuhn and Cheetah were beyond flabbergasted. It now seemed that no one was safe from Chief Mbada’s evil. His need to place his name above Brahmuhn’s and to secure unrivalled power had become an obsessive mission for him. From a very early age, Brahmuhn knew how powerful Chief Mbada was. He now feared greatly for the people of Matanda Village and Chaponda Village. Basically, he feared for all the Shona villages and even the Ndebele as well! Brahmuhn did not know fear except when he projected it for someone else.

He was starting to care about the Ndebele since Buhlebenkosi was one of them and had done all she could to not only save her people but his as well. Growing up, to him, the Ndebele had always been portrayed as a savage, ruthless, selfish and ignorant people. What is to say the same picture about the Shona could have been painted by the Ndebele? Besides, Chief Mbada bore a convincing testimony to that. Ultimately, Brahmuhn feared for his parents, Tsitsi and Farai.

He scratched his chin, his eyes locked into the dirty dark depth of the fireplace beside him.

Cheetah could sense his distress but could not even begin to imagine what he was thinking. ‘My chief,’ he tried to bring him back to earth. ‘My chief!’

He shuddered, ‘What…what?’ He had been someplace else.

‘Is something on your mind?’

He locked his fingers beneath his chin and sighed deeply. ‘It seems Mbada’s quest for power will never end. He has reached a state where his own people can be used as collateral damage; a mere stepping stone to mount his throne above the clouds.’

‘What do you suggest we do, my chief?’