Trojian Horse
Chapter 4

The flat bushy terrain they had been walking through suddenly turned into a mountainous country. Massive boulders towered over the landscape each with a character of its own forming a narrow valley here and a wide valley there. Some formations were just one colossal dome of granite rock, others a warrior preparing to throw his spear, another formation a mother and a child, yet another a gate into another realm. All the scenes around Cebisa took on a very real presence to her. Boulders piled upon boulders to form a living landscape. A myriad of trees and grasses added blush to the otherwise bland brown landscape. A tinge of green here, a splash of orange, a dab of pink there, with the blue sky peeping out from behind the white canvas every so often.

A sense of safety swept over Cebisa, more safety than she had felt for many months now. In their spiritual capital she felt Mwali would hear them and fight for them, or give them the means to fight for themselves. It felt to her as if Mwali was in every crack, every pebble, every branch, in the breeze, in the grainy soil beneath her feet. She felt hope and a strong resolve to see this to the end. Zibulo let out a murmur from his position tied behind her back, as if he sensed the importance of the occasion as well. They walked on to an open plain deep amidst the granite mountains. The young boys immediately set to making enclosures for the little livestock they had managed to bring with them. Cebisa busied herself finding a suitable cave to sleep in with the other women and children while others went out in search of firewood to start the fires for their supper. Their first decent meal in what was just over a fortnight though it felt like an age to Cebisa.

Cebisa found a particularly cosy cave not far from where the main fires would be. It was not too deep and the early morning light would easily penetrate the depths of the cave although the depth of the cave meant she could not share it with anyone else. She decided this was probably not a bad thing. A fire left burning by the entrance would keep any wild animals that ventured that way out of the cave. It was perfect. The cave was just above the ground level giving an unrestricted view of the forests facing her and the rolling hills of stone beyond them. She stood staring into the vastness for several moments, motionless, taking in all the splendour of the place.

“Mama, what is this place?” Nwabisa, her youngest daughter asked, interrupting her daydream.

“We call it Matobos my child. It is our sacred place. Here we are as close to our ancestors and Mwali as we can possibly get.”

“Oh,” was the reply.

“You see over there behind that distance boulder lies a cave which you may have heard mentioned…”

“I don’t think so. I’m sure I would remember that.”

“Of course, you would my dear,” Cebisa said, stroking her daughter’s hair.

A smile spread on Cebisa’s face while her daughter’s expression indicated that she was aware she had not received an answer and would not be leaving until she got one.

“Njelele. That’s what they call it.”

“Oh, yes. I did hear one of the boys mention it…”

“Well, it’s really only the old men who can enter it. It’s a most sacred place.”

“Did Khulu Zwangedwa tell you about it mama?” Nwabisa asked. Cebisa admired the innocence with which young children acquired knowledge about their surroundings. Nwabisa wasn’t done with her questions though. “Why is it only the men can go there?” S~ᴇaʀᴄh the Find_Nøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“It is the way it has always been my dear. The men intercede for us before Mwali.”

“Oh, so who talks to him for us? Khulu? Because Baba (father) isn’t here anymore…”

Cebisa was almost brought to tears hearing her daughter speak about her father. She was again faced with the realisation that he was gone. Forever.

“In the cave at Njelele, there is always a guardian to watch over it. Mlimo and other spiritual leaders talk to Mwali there.”

“What’s in the cave? What does he watch over?”

“Well, I’m not quite sure but Khulu told me they have all sorts of things there like clay pots filled with water, the snuff Khulu smokes sometimes, spears, all sorts of things…”

“But what is it all for?” Nwabisa asked, holding her arms open in front of her, as if she hoped an answer would fall into them.

“I don’t quite know…now go play,” Cebisa said tersely. Nwabisa sensed that she had filled her quota of answers for the day and hurried off in the direction of the laughing children around one of the campfires that had begun to light up throughout the camp. Zibulo who had been sleeping silently in the corner of the cave till that moment suddenly woke up, and immediately began demanding her attention.

“A-ya,” he said looking deep into her eyes. In his eyes was a moment of clarity that she could not believe he could be capable of at his age. She had never heard him say that word before. An involuntary tingling crept up her spine.

“What do you mean my boy? What is that?” She asked lifting him into her arms. She smiled though for some reason she felt a little nervous at what had transpired.

Zibulo smiled, baring his single tooth. “Biba,” he said and suddenly looked like his normal self.

That she understood. She held him close while he suckled on her breast.

⃰

Yet again she found herself thinking about what a terrible time it was for Zibulo to be born and to grow up in. It was the end of their world and the beginning of one she neither recognised nor wanted to be a part of. News from the battlefront was far from encouraging. The number of the dead young men seemed to swell instead of dwindling and she felt her confidence in the cause suffer a moment of doubt. The invaders had begun their advance on Matobos crushing whatever little resistance they found along the way. She hoped that by the time the invaders made it to Matobos they would be ready to meet them and offer a lot more resistance than had been supplied till that point. The weapons of the invaders were formidable and though they had managed to acquire a few rifles and pistols it was the maxim gun that reigned supreme and provided the edge which could prove to be the deciding factor in this war. She had no solution to this problem but she hoped more seasoned minds in the art of warfare would be up to the task of solving it. They had to learn a different form of warfare. They knew this forest and all that lay around it, the invaders did not and they would use this to their advantage.

She held Zibulo tighter in her arms. Lately she found she prayed often for a way to a way to spare her boy from the trouble that lay ahead. It seemed a little unfair that she wished to spare him and not her daughters but she reasoned that the rest of his family had already got a taste for this life and despite the hardships that lay ahead of them she was sure they would confront them as best as they could. They were mentally prepared for them. Even her darling daughters, though they ran around seemingly oblivious of what was coming for them, had a sense of it but Zibulo’s eyes did not betray any such knowledge. He seemed completely unaware and she did not wish to taint his innocence with the worries of their troubled world. The world was still a puzzle to him, a world full of wonders and she would have given anything for the world to remain just as it was for him at that instant. She stared into his lightly browned eyes as he squeezed her thumb with his little hand. What she wanted for him was impossible but she hoped for it anyway.

She always considered herself to be brave. Very brave. If she could she would be there on the frontlines throwing spears and firing rifles actively trying to win the war but of course that was not the place for a woman. Despite her bravery, her fear for her son began to consume her increasingly each day. Her fears soon seeped into her dreams, causing her to wake up most nights drenched in sweat and shivering. Often she felt like something was chasing her and though she knew that the fear of the invaders was growing throughout the camp it was her love for Zibulo that made it all the more unbearable. Khulu Zwangedwa noticed all that passed, having taken abode with Cebisa and her children but knew better than offer his opinion to her until she asked for it. He kept silent, worried, watching, and waiting.

News from the battlefront was depressing mostly but sometimes there was news of battles won. The Ndebele warriors were far more prepared this time around and it seemed the white men were not finding it easy fighting a war in this mountainous country. Mlimo was a great motivation to the fighters. It would seem his many conversations with Mwali were paving the way to a future rid of the usurpers though Cebisa dared not dream that it could come to that just yet. She only hoped Mlimo would remain alive long enough to see them achieve that victory, the Ndebele would not survive another loss of leadership.

Weeks passed in this way. Then months. Victories mixed with great losses. Still they continued to survive and it seemed the longer the war continued it began to tilt in the favour of the Ndebele though marginally it was. At this point the livestock had brought with them had been mostly killed and served, and it would only be a matter of time before food became more difficult to find unless the forest could provide enough sustenance for all of them. This seemed unlikely.

They needed to win the war. Soon.

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