Mighty Brahmuhn
Home ... is Where the Pain is

Neither of the two had noticed how quickly time was flying. They had come to an agreement that before they attack Mbada, they unfetter a few more villages under his oppression.

They encountered the most gut-wrenching situations in their conquest but nevertheless, they triumphed over them. In every village they passed through, they gained support from the inhabitants. The Shona now had a trustworthy liberator who was open to sacrifice his life for their freedom. The Ndebele too began to rally behind Brahmuhn and were willing to place their rivalry on hold since they now had one common enemy. Brahmuhn knew that it would not be long before the same atrocities that the other villages were going through reached Chaponda Village.

Three weeks had gone by like the blink of a day. They both missed their families very much but they also knew that in order to keep their families safe, they had to terminate the threat which was Chief Mbada.

As they stood and stared at Matanda Village, which was now a short walk away, Brahmuhn’s gaze was transfixed as flashbacks of his childhood came rushing into his mind like a flood. Most memories were memories he had tried hard to suppress: memories of his last days in Matanda Village from the time Chief Mbada had stolen his mother in the full view of the entire village, placing his “mark” on her and making her his possession. The anger…the uncontrollable anger his father had felt, frozen as he watched another man lay claim to his childhood sweetheart. To Brahmuhn, such a childhood memory was definitely worth suppressing.

‘Your Greatness.’ Cheetah brought him back to the present. Back to reality.

He jerked slightly, as if he had been totally unaware of Cheetah’s presence. ‘What is it?’ asked Brahmuhn.

‘Shall we proceed?’ He nodded in the direction of Matanda Village.

He fastened his knobkerrie at the side of his loincloth by his waist and nodded in approval.

Cheetah knew all too well of the rage that was burning in Brahmuhn’s heart. A silent rage which he had only displayed in the battlefield when he had ruthlessly ploughed through the Ndebele, bringing down hundreds and hundreds of the enemy with a weapon as simple as a knobkerrie. Yes, that rage was purely demonic, unparalleled and was one of the reasons why he and the rest of the Vadhindi had rallied behind him all these ten years. From the first moment he entered the battlefield at eighteen, Cheetah had known that Brahmuhn’s skill could never replace a contender. His ire was what defined him, what made him invincible. He now knew that what would ensue if Brahmuhn were to ever face Chief Mbada was nothing short of a brutal and bloody collision of unfathomable capacity.

Before they moved any further, Cheetah handed Brahmuhn a piece of long and thin dry goatskin to cover the medium tattoo on his hand. They had decided if Chief Mbada spotted the mark on his hand then he would probably begin to suspect that Brahmuhn was none other than the pesky fourteen year old who had fled from his Gorivas fourteen years ago. But Brahmuhn was not sure if he was important enough to remain in the thoughts of such a “fierce” leader for so long.

No sooner had they walked a few yards into the compounds of the village than the villagers recognized him. Some were frozen and others had their mouths wide open in astonishment and for others it was both.

‘As sure as Mwari lives..! The Mighty Brahmuhn!!!’ one female villager yelled.

His brute physique and his locks had probably given him away.

Every single person, young and old, man and woman, were running like demented monkeys towards him.

‘Is that..? Yes, it is him!’ another whispered to another.

He was now accustomed to the praises that he was showered with whenever he entered a Shona village. His eyes though were scouring through the beehive-like multitude in search of a more familiar face.

‘What brings you here, Brahmuhn?’ one elderly female villager asked him.

‘We need to speak to your…’

Brahmuhn raised his hand to halt Cheetah’s words. ‘We’re just passing through.’

‘But surely Chief Mbada would want to see you; A warrior of such…such caliber!’

‘I do not wish to start trouble for your chief. Like I said; we’re just passing through.’

Cheetah cleared his throat, trying to get Brahmuhn’s attention. He was confused as to why he was contradicting himself. This was the purpose of their journey.

‘Brahmuhn, please. At least let us inform our chief of your arrival.’

‘Or better yet, let us take you to him!’ another villager suggested and mumbles of agreement swept through the multitude.

‘Very well then. Take us to your chief.’

As they made their way towards Chief Mbada’s homestead, people kept pressing against him. Two or three children touched his back then disappeared into the crowd boasting that they had touched, “The Great Brahmuhn”. For the first time in his life, Brahmuhn could hear his heartbeat. It was like someone was holding it over his ear and pounding it. It, however, was not beating out of fear. He was about to come face to face with the monster that stole his family and humiliated them in the process.

Nothing had changed at all in Chief Mbada’s homestead. It was as if not even a single stone had been turned or a tree cut down.

‘Be ready for anything, Cheetah,’ he spoke into his ear.

They finally stopped by the entrance. Although it was against custom, the entire village had followed Brahmuhn to the entrance of Chief Mbada’s throne room as though he was their leader.

‘Where are these…“Gorivas” people speak a lot about?’ he asked the elderly woman.

‘Oh, the chief sent them out to hunt game. Now wait here while I tell His Courageousness of your arrival,’ she told him.

Brahmuhn carefully moved his hand to his knobkerrie. It was as though time had stood still. He heard footsteps approaching the entrance. His heart threatened to rip through his chest. He saw two figures emerge.

She was so beautiful. She was so calm. Brahmuhn could feel that same love illuminating her face which in turn illuminated his heart.

Her hands were clasped together and her head bowed a little low in humility.

He felt the urge to jump into his mother’s arms and embrace her as tightly as he could just like when he was a child...