Mongala

Author: Pitso Pitso

(an idea for a film, in progress)

There is a small hut on top of the mountain, where boys go and return as men. Every year, when the trees begin to blossom, young men gather around the chief’s kraal. All of them wear a maroon blanket, with green gumboots and soccer socks protruding from their boots. Each of them carries his belongings in what seems to be an organised randomisation of makeshift bags, from ladies’ purses to brown sacks, typically used for harvesting grain. Each man is holding a ram by the rope, and a donkey carrying their food.

The Chief appears from the house. He is largely built, with a round belly. He has an unfriendly face. The only emotion you see on him is undying anger, maybe because he has seen so many of his friends die in the mines, maybe because all his sons died in the mine dumps and now he has no heir. But even with all these factors in mind, everyone views him with contempt. No one sympathises with him, everyone just bows under his iron fist, or tries to not get in his way. He is cruel and corrupt to the last bone in his body.

With him is Mankhoe, the Teacher. He is equally treacherous. He finds profit in the comfort of being the Chief’s right-hand man. Mankhoe opens the kraal and, almost telepathically, the boys drive the sheep into the kraal. The Chief grins with excitement. He instructs Mankhoe by pointing with his finger to the fiercest bull in the kraal. Mankhoe pulls the bull by its chain, and he wields a machete from his waist.

MANKHOE: Kajeno le qala leeto la lona la hoba banna, sakeng lena le siea sohle sa boshanyana. Tieang lipelo, ha ke batle ho bona khapha le ha e le e nyane marameng a lona. Ea qhoeloang a khutlele ha ‘mae,
ha ke tlo nesana le maphuruhloana!

There is silence amongst the boys, as they focus on what their instructor is about to do.

MANKHOE: Poho ena ke eona pula maliboho, le tlameha ho khaola sephaka sa eona, selota le se je e ntse e phela! Ke mang ea batlang ho ja poho seloteng!?

The boys cheer in approval. Mankhoe sings praises to the bull in detailed poetry, as if he worships it. Immediately as he finishes, he starts to hack the bull’s front limb. The boys join him, as some hold it by the horns and others by the other limbs. Simultaneously, they cut off the hump of the bull, and it roars in agony.

Standing a bit further from the action is Mokete. He is holding his machete in his left hand, and a knobkerrie in his right. He is dark in complexion and his broad shoulders are protruding from his blanket. He has a strong jawline, as if he is clenching something with his teeth. His eyes are dark and unfriendly, as if he has seen too much for his age, and yet he looks afraid.

Mokete watches as his friends cheer in excitement, but he sympathises with the bull. The cruel behaviour is too much for him to take. He steps forward and stabs the bull’s main artery, and it dies instantly. The cheering turns into a deafening silence. He turns his back and walks towards the mountain. All the boys follow him in song. The elderly men look at him with surprise.

MANKHOE: (to the Chief) Enoa u nkane, empa u tla ntseba hantle!

***

There is a village in the valley of Thabana Mahlanya. The residents are in a festive mood. The women can be seen plastering their houses with mud and cow dung. An elderly man is sitting on a kitchen chair, leaned against the kraal. He is watching the younger men slaughtering a sheep nearby.

Three teenage girls, each holding an enamel bucket, take a footpath towards the hill. Among them is Mokhantšo. She is of average height for a 19-year-old. She has cornrows on her head. Her skin is brown, like chocolate, and it glows. She is wearing her old school shirt, which is scribbled with random messages. Her smile is enchanting, her teeth are star white and she has a gap between her teeth. As they continue to ascend towards the hill, they hear a strange noise coming from the rocks.

GIRL 1: Noha!

MOKHANTŠO: E hokae? (She walks towards the noise)

Mokhantšo leans towards the rocks, but instead of a snake, she sees Mokete. He is slightly wounded and is hiding in a small cave behind the thick bush. She is scared, but too stunned to scream. She has never had an encounter with a fresh initiate, and all the stories she has heard about initiates are making her even more nervous.

MOKETE: Ke kopa thuso.

Mokhantšo nods silently.

MOKETE: Ke baleile mophatong, ke kopa ha shoalane e tšoara u nkalime kobo ea motšeare, ke lokela ho ea ha malome mose ho Thabana li ‘Mele.

*[To be continued…]