The beast dropped its guard completely. This allowed Bwenjili to step up and claw back into the fight.

He looked at his enemy from a completely new perspective and detached himself, so that he was at a safe distance from the line of enemy engagement. He quickly drew out his sling and placed a boulder in the slot. He then swung with all his might and let the boulder fly. It whined through the air as it flew at a trailblazing speed.

Bwenjili’s heart raced with heightened anticipation. At first it seemed that he had missed his target, but then the boulder took on an unexpected parabola and flew straight at the beast, crashing into its temple and shredding off a section of its skull upon impact.

The beast collapsed into an agonised heap, but before Bwenjili could finish it off with two more thrusts to the torso it issued a threat: “No one kills me and gets away with it! You’ll pay in heavy coin for your crime!”

With these words, the beast rolled, groaned and twitched in the final throes of death. To ensure an undisputed clean kill, Bwenjili completely severed its neck off. He then packaged the remains of the beast into his haversack and headed back to his village as a triumphant warrior.

When the news of the killing spread around the village, there were wild scenes of joy and celebration. The news was greeted with a huge sigh of relief and a great sense of disbelief. How had a simple unsung country boy risen from the ashes and defied the odds to accomplish such a huge, sweet victory?

This was a defining moment for Bwenjili, and it marked the dawn of an era of hope and new beginnings in the lives of the villagers. Two days after Bwenjili’s heroic act of courage and brilliance, the people of the village stood tall and proud as they gathered in their multitudes to commemorate this momentous occasion with song and dance.
A new leaf was turned in the history of the village. In the distant horizon, the golden orb of the early morning sun burst out like the spittle of a giant star from a monstrous firefly. This magical splendour lit the eastern skyline like a golden topaz. The heavy darkness of moments earlier quickly vanished, like a puff of smoke from a locomotive.

Clad in a stylish skin headdress and animal skin kilts, Bwenjili was the hero of the proceedings. He stormed the momentous occasion with the elegance of a pop star. The great majority of the villagers watched the early morning festivities perched on huge grey granite outcrops and treetops overlooking the village, like a troop of baboons waiting to raid an unguarded maize crop. Other villagers prostrated themselves on the dusty, dirty village ground floors below. The spirit of celebration and jubilation was in the air.

With his grisly looking haversack draped across his backside, Bwenjili cut a heroic figure. He slowly made his way down the carpet of dead brown grass and tree foliage that had been especially laid out in his honour. He weaved through the length of thick human forms, like a deep river winding down a labyrinth of canyons, amidst thunderous applause from the crowd.

There was a great commotion as the villagers in the crowd jostled against each other in a bid to reach out to their hero. Everybody wanted to personally touch Bwenjili, to register his or her heartfelt gratitude and to congratulate him on his historic achievement. He was lifted up as the crowd chanted: “Hero! Hero! Hero!”

Drums were beaten with the gusto of demented spirits. People sang while others took to the dance floor to showcase their dancing skills. Traditional home brewed beer was available in abundance. The crowd gorged themselves on a plentiful supply of meat after two beasts were slaughtered for the occasion. There was great joy, as at last the dark cloud of death and despair that had haunted the village community of Gezi had finally cleared away.
“Bring it on, son of the soil!” boomed a powerful voice from a member of the crowd.

“You’re our true hero, Bwenjili!” A husky voice cracked like a whip above the hubbub of the other voices.

***

Tell us what you think: Will peace reign at last in the village community of Gezi?