On their way to the kraal, which was high up the mountain on the plateau, Sibazi kept looking over his shoulder. Sometimes slowly, sometimes almost like he was trying to catch someone-or something- off guard. It started occasionally but as they went on, it became more and more rapid, so much so that it got the man unsettled.

“Wait!” Sibazi placed his hand on the man’s chest. They both came to a halt. Their hands went to the midriff, in reach for their sticks.

From a patch of trees in the sea of gold blades of the savannah, a beast was sneaking. Well dressed for the occasion. Gold all the way, with circles of black throughout its body. The edges of its mouth was black and glittering with saliva of a beast about to dine.

Sibazi, trembling, looked to the man, “We can’t out run it. We can only try to chase it away!”

“Chase it away!? You don’t chase iSilo away. You either kill it, or it kills you!”

Then the leopard was almost a yard from the men. They were both slowly moving backwards. Sticks on both hands.

“Arhh!!” the man cried out. By the time Sibazi turned, it was covered with blood. The smell of human blood surely gave an incentive for the beast, for it started galloping forward, ready to pounce.

“You must fight now Sibazi, you must become a man. If you don’t, we die today.”

One foot forward, grinning, Sibazi started swinging his stick, death kept circling him, with every swing fueling it more. He swung with the left stick, the right, the left: bang! He hit its jaws. It roared and retrenched. Now Sibazi had some momentum.

He approached, it coughed blood, he stepped back. Now the beast stood and grinned.

“You can do it son! Kill it.”

He charged towards it. He swung. Bang! Again, then, to the ribs. The leopard now roared than anything really. Sibazi and the man, were confident it is done. The beast pounced, scrabbled Sibazi with its claws on his thighs, and retracted with a piece of isinene- the front apron that covers the genitals, from high up to the knee. But before anything else could happen, Sibazi counted with a huge swing on the side of the head. The beast went to dust not to return. Eyes wide opened and chest pounding, Sibazi stood above it. There wasn’t any life left in it, but the leg kept on twitching.

“It’s dead now,” the man said as he sat on the ground, “We can get a lot of cows with this, boy. We can have our own umhlambi- cow herd- and you can marry any girl you want across this land.

The man had stepped on onkunzana- a green thorn weed. They spent the rest of the day skinning the leopard. When they were done, they washed the skin off, to get rid of any blood inside it and the smell really, more than anything. They folded the royal piece and the man looked at Sibazi straight in the eye,

“This is a gift for a king,” Sibazi put it in the bag and they were to give it to the king before the tournament started.

Near the peak of a high mountain, they could hear voices, the cows mooing and could smell the smoke from large fires, where surely women were cooking for the feast. They got to the gates, and were received by a young boy, who took their luggage. The young boy escorted the pair to the fighting arena – the kraal – as the fights were about to begin. They followed the boy through the crowd that was jumping up and down, singing, chanting all in anticipation of the of the tournament.

As they found their way through the crowd, he broke the news that the multitudes were here to witness a great spectacle, as it was rumoured that the young King, that inherited the throne, would fight to cement his claim for the throne. They got around the crowd and Sibazi went to stand beside other contenders, all of whom who looked strong and deadly. One had one eye, and the other eye socket, was just hollowed with darkness, not covered at all. The others had cuts and bruises all over their bodies. Sibazi had no cut nor bruises but a distinctive scar across his face, that he got in a stick fight years back. The scar that earned him the name Sibazi- the scar.

“After consulting with the clan’s advisors, the King decided to remove all his titles and put them on the line, in this tournament. All the leaders of our people have led warriors in battles and proved their worth and dedication to their people. The young man believes he shall be no exception. With the entire Nguni clan in harmony, there will be no battle and so, this is the only place where he can really show that he is the One!”

There was loud clapping and chanting. Then the man raised his hand, once again there was silence as almost everyone in the Nguni clan knew and respected Bhekumuzi, the wisest of them all, “Now that every fighter has arrived, let the games begin!”

***

Tell us: What do you think about having to kill an animal to prove you are as man?