THE CANNIBAL

PROLOGUE: DREAM
Brussels, 1899.
In the falling of the sun, in the marketplace of Brussels, many people rushed to buy their foods and other necessities. Everyone rushed because the sellers were getting ready to close down their stands, so the customers at this late hour grabbed often without looking just to have something they needed to buy.
Into this rushing hour came a young man, Jean Turken, who walked slowly, letting others push past and around him. His mind was on dreaming thoughts, many miles away. He�d had a dream that upset him the entire day. Even his mother wasn't able to interpret the dream. By the advice of his mother he went to see a renowned fortune teller who had a stand just outside the busy place. Philippe, a German, was more than fortune teller, more than a man who interpret dreams. He was also known as the healer of the heart in trouble, wise man and a motivator.
His mother told him that dreams were the destiny and forecast of the future. He feared his future. He was a lad who looked for trouble because he didn�t like school, and though he thought he could be a good person, allowed others to lead him around. And he had a problem with wanting what wasn�t his. Just last week he had taken from a friend�s house a piece of jewelry, only later to find out its value and how frantic were the parents to get it back. He had it well hidden, but for how long? Even now his mother was swearing to everyone what a good boy her son was, how he would never do anything wrong. He told his mother he was afraid, and then the dream came.
The fortune teller, an aging man with gray and disappearing hair, was about to close his stand after a long tiring day, when he saw a young man coming to him. Unusual, because most of the usual customer were older people of status, and with the money to pay for his services. Yet, this lad could be the son of one of them, so he waited.
Philippe waited as the boy stopped in front of his little shop but said nothing. �Bonjour, can I help you?"
Jean barely whispered in embarrassment. "I cannot sleep if I don't find peace."
"Peace? I can help if you have bad dreams at night, but you must pay the fee.�
The young boy had two franc with him, which he put in the basket Philippe indicated.
Philippe stopped packing his working tools, and took a closer look at Jean, who could use that money for better clothes or to put some fat on his bones. His eyes had the sunken shallow look of malnutrition, too.
He took the money out of the basket and handed it back. "I don't need money from you."
Jean looked sadly at the money in his hand. "But I cannot find peace." He turned to walk away but couldn�t move. "I had a very disturbing dream. My mother and neighbors couldn't help me to interpret my dream."
"What time is it?"
"The sun has just gone down."
"It is time to close the shop." Philippe shrugged at the boy�s helpless expression. I would have to pay extra rent if I stay longer. And people would start to expect it of me, and I would end up with no private life at all.�
As Jean watched, unable to stop him, unable to walk away, Philippe continued to close up his shop. He packed up his tools-the cards, the bowl where water and tea leaves and the stick that his client stirred made interesting designs, the crystals. He closed the curtain over his door, and Jean was shut outside, so he could not continue watching the shop being closed in front of him. He knew he should have come earlier, but time often made little difference in his life. Now it seemed to him, time was running out and there was no one who could help him.
Finally Philippe stepped out with a small bag and saw the boy just standing there, still looking lost and helpless. �I will take you to my home for dinner. We can talk. If you help, and are a good cleaner, I will not charge you.�
Philippe lived alone, in a small, but well decorated home of crafts he made himself in his spare time. Jean could see with the crafts was also some imported German furniture, some carpeting from India, and crystals, probably Austrian but maybe from different places, too. And England�s lace on his curtains. A very interesting d�cor, and Philippe laughed as Jean looked around. �Helps me get in touch with all the different parts of myself.�
Jean also saw a photograph of a woman and felt it was his wife, but didn�t ask. That might be too painful for him, and Jean wanted him to help with his pain.
After a good dinner of soup and bread, Jean started cleaning, waiting for Philippe to start asking him questions. He didn�t know how to begin talking himself. Talking could be so difficult for him, as was thinking, and learning. Getting in trouble he found not hard at all.
Philippe, while Jean cleaned from their supper, changed into his sleeping clothes, and made them some coffee. �Now, you have things to tell me.�
�My dream. It is still in my head.�
�Good. Then begin.�
"I dreamed, that many people, of which I was one, but the shortest one, were in the Pyramid with strange people. I think they were Egyptians. I was in the front seat with a king. There was a beautiful woman who served us with delicious food. While eating I look at the pyramid entrance door and saw a dog guarding the pyramid that was eating too. When I look at the dog's food, I thought it looked like a dead dog it was eating. I wanted to kick the dog, but I couldn�t, because this was not my home. The king held a crystal shining stone on his table. I asked if I could have the stone, and he said no, and then laughed." Jean stopped.
Philippe looked at him curiously. �Is that all?�
�I woke up afraid.�
�And you don�t know why?�
Jean only shook his head.
The old man kept quiet for a long time. After the silence, Philippe pushed his chair next to the worrying boy and took his right hand. "My boy, you know that dreams foretell our destiny. This dream is no different.�
�So my mother tells me. I fear my destiny is prison.�
This startled Philippe. �Why say you this?� After Jean told him his trouble, he shook his head. �I can see you are a good lad. Prison is perhaps part of your future, but not your destiny. This dream says otherwise.� Philippe took Jean�s hand and studied the lines on his palm. �I see your life line very long but cut by two big lines." Philippe took a deep breath. �Because of what you told me, this means your life will be briefly halted-this is probably prison. We must pay for our mistakes, son. But you will emerge a better person. Your life continues on, gets a little wider near the end. But it is not a very long life. I think, because it widens, it will be a very good life. You will grow strong, brave and smart."
�But the dream?�
Philippe gave Jean a look that told him no more interruptions. "Death is also a way of life. We all advance to our last days. Life is a perpetual fight. We all fight for survival since we were born. We struggle to breathe in our early days and every day after we struggle to maintain that life. No human is different in this."
Jean devoted his new-found attention to the man he felt could heal him and help him sleep. Going to prison would not be his destiny, after all.
�The pyramid is a house like any house made from the stones or bricks. The pyramid in your dream may have looked like those in Egypt but symbolically, Pyramid may mean any house situated in any country that is foreign to you."
Jean nodded. This would explain why he would dream about the shape of the pyramids he read about in school. �But is it significant that Pyramids are in Egypt which is known as the earliest civilized nation still in existence today?�
Philippe gave him the look that told him to be quiet. �As I said, Pyramid means a house in a foreign country when it appears in the dream. So your destiny is not prison but a far away place, a foreign world. This means someplace outside of Europe. This means also outside of America, which is also not foreign enough because of the Europeans who settled there. But you seem also worry about being the shortest man in the crowd."
"Yes, I do." Jean quickly responded. That part bothered him because he was not the shortest person in his gang. He used to fear, growing up, that he�d never be tall but that did not concern his waking days anymore.
The old man drank his coffee for short time in silence. "Short is not half. And big is not double. Short and big men are made the same. They have two hands and a one heart each. There is nothing bad about being the shortest man in the community or of being the tallest man in the community."
�What does it mean, then? That I cannot reach my goals?�
"Short may mean the youngest man or the most underprivileged. It means a man who does not have the equal opportunity of others. It also means, depending on the dream, a man who is unlike others, as in a different background. It also means a foreigner."
Jean nodded, feeling his fears draining away. This man was worth more than the two franc he wouldn�t accept as payment.
Philippe took Jean�s left hand again. "I see the fortune line long too, but broken like the life line. Broken differently, see, here toward the end?� Philippe studied it a moment, and put it down again. �You will get wealth, lose it, and get it again. But it will not be the same wealth. Fortune is not just money or riches. But so many people forget this. Your fear line is troublesome, as it seems, in your hand,� but Philippe did not show Jean this line. �To cut into the fortune line. You will get easy money at first but the beginning of the fortune line is attacked by a fear line in your hand."
�How do I get money easy? Do I take it?�
Philippe shrugged. �Some interpretations are for the dreamer.�
�I think�I must learn not to give in to my fears.�
"If you beat fear in your decision making you will become king of all you see. Fear will conquer your opportunities."
�Is there a good way to fight fear?� Jean knew he was afraid of school, afraid of learning, afraid of working, because he was afraid to fail. And that was why he got into trouble. And that was why, he suddenly realized, he had such a bad temper.
�Don't call yourself a loser. Remember that going before or leaving early doesn't mean arriving in time."
Jean always felt that he has lost when he hears that other people do well. He was too young to get a real job but gets jealous to see others work so easily, and doing well.
"We only fail when we give up. Don't fear of trying and never give up trying. Your dream says that you understand the ways of foreign countries and you will do well wherever you go, if you are not afraid.
The old man remembered everything the young man told him. It was his job. Each word Philippe heard had a meaning, so he continued with the interpretation of dream. This was like work to him, like what he did all day long, but this young boy, he felt, would be a great man someday and he can help. So Philippe took Jean�s hand again.
�You saw the king with a big crystal stones." Jean had envied the stones in his dream. Philippe explained, "Crystal mean expensive, or plenty, or success. This is the most worrisome part of the dream."
�How can success be worrisome?�
"The jealousy of it in someone else means you may be pushed into doing something you should not do to get it. You understand foreign ways but you want to kick the dog. You see?"
Jean shook his head, but waited, afraid to hear more about the dog.
�You say you saw a beautiful woman. If you want to be happy, don't follow only the physical appearance of the woman. But because you see her beauty in a dream does not mean you are seeing physical appearance. Dreams are deeper than that. It is good, though, to interpret it this way, that you look only on the surface of things, as a warning. Dreams are destiny and often warnings. If you love a woman because of her beauty, the day she loses her beauty by accident or by getting older you will be tempted to look for another woman because what you followed has vanished."
Jean wasn't that interested in girls but he listened patiently.
"Beauty is like a flower, it grows old and dries up. The flower grows, and at some point dies. The woman shines on the outside in her growing stage, and then when she reaches her peak the beauty disappear. She shines in her teens and young adulthood, then the shining face disappears. It is the same with men, but is more apparent in women."
Jean applied what Philippe said to his mother, who seemed still beautiful to him but he heard what others said, that she was not so pretty now as when she was young. He accepted that beauty is like a flower.
"You will see beautiful women but you will learn to look for who they are inside, whether the dream tells you this or not." Philippe stood and opened his door, inviting Jean to leave.
Jean went to the door but had not had all of the dream explained. The worst, he felt, was yet to come. " Philippe what about the dog eating a dead dog?"
The old man laughed and shook his head. �I think you can figure that one out now. It means that wherever you go in a foreign country you must accept their differences. If you were to kick the dog, what would happen?�
Jean thought a moment. �It could bite me.�
�Now you know.� Philippe pushed the young boy of his house and shut the door. He grimaced with the words he could not tell the boy. �Just do not go to Africa.�
CHAPTER 1
Africa in 1905 was a period and era popular in Europe as many of industry, religion and personal venture found opportunities to invest and expansion their activities, with many parts of the continent still open and unclaimed. The Belgium government decided to free criminals overcrowded in prison, and send them, regardless of crime or punishement, to open land in Africa far from their families and community. This would be like prison for them as they would still be under orders and answer to superiors, and locked away from all they knew and loved. But they would also have the chance, by cunning and verve, to earn a living and their freedom.
Simon and Jean were two such criminals, destined to meet and cross paths together, a potential friendship with criminal leanings the only deterrent. Jean had recently been imprisoned due to his habit of stealing; Simon, for crimes much worse.
The Belgian King, Leopold Deux, met with these people getting ready to sail to Africa to give them policies on how to cope with the situation in Africa and again their assignments. He commanded a large gathering hall and no one dared speak again after he�d entered the room.
"I am sending you to land that�s still unclaimed by other nations, to stake the claim for our country. You are entering a world of great opportunities and many challenges.� He held up a book. �This is the Bible, and will be your steady companion. Use it to get the indigenous trust, which is essential to your survival there.� He paused, sensing raised eyebrows. �You did not know you risk your lives? But why else would we send prisoners? Many haven�t seen the white skin so there will be many reactions. Many still live in ancient era. They don�t have clothes, shoes. Go there and teach them the Bible. Show them our tools and they will be in awe, and will worship you. Teach them that the poor will go to paradise. That rich will go into hell. After you get their trust, you will exploit them for their resources. Find their minerals, above all else.� He chuckled. �We take great example from other countries how to deal with these primitive people. If they do not cooperate, they are exterminated. Get their cooperation, or kill them.� Several of the king�s bodyguards moved closer to him when they sensed a sudden restlessness. �We have given you prisoners a second chance, a once only lifetime opportunity to restart your life. Those who fail in all I say will be sent back to prison here-for life.�
He paused again, to allow his words more strength. �It won�t be easy living there. You will be exposed to many dangerous diseases, such as malaria carried by mosquitoes, typhoid and cholera. But we have put in your disposition enough medicine to face the diseases. We put also in your disposition some snake vaccines. You will also meet dangerous animals such the famous declared king of jungle, lion. You will be taught how to handle wild animals. You will be given plenty of weapons. You will meet also some indigenous tribes who are not friendly or welcoming. You will in these cases be accompanied by soldiers. They are based in the main port and will send more in some main bases in the interior. Right now there is actually a short winter in Africa, which makes it easier to travel. At the main port and other localities you�ll meet your compatriots and our Belgium administration. They will be monitoring you, you will report the progress. You will refer to them as the Belgium Embassy, and respect them as you did your jail guards. They represent Belgium in central Africa. They will be able to assist you."
After he left the room, a low rumble of voices started up, the sounds of both excitement and fear. A few were led back the way they came, back to Belgium prison, but the rest followed their guards out to the ships, ready for the journey.
###
Each ship had been filled with equipment for buildings, houses, along with food and medicine, clothes, communication equipment, and guns and bibles. The men were divided into groups, given a sergeant who commanded them. Each sergeant carried a map of the territory-each map had room for five different groups to be dispersed.
Jean Turken felt a loneliness he could not explain, except that his mother told him she preferred he�d stay close by where she could watch him. He hadn�t wanted to leave her, especially after she began to cry as he was led away. But no, this was more than that. He�d had the dream again, several times, after the prison doors slammed shut on him and each time he could see a little more detail. Maybe stealing wasn�t the way but once he started, he find out how much he enjoyed being a thief, and couldn�t stop. Now, on the ship, he began to feel that this is where the dream led. He didn�t want to think about it, and turned to the first person he could who seemed to desire conversation.
Seeing Simon looking so excited, Jean began to feel a little of it himself. Instead Simon turned to him suddenly and asked, �Are you sad, man?�
Jean only shrugged. �I am mixed about it, I think.� He could share his dream with no man-they would only laugh at him for his young foolishness.
The man, with a growth of beard longer than the two days on ship, nodded. �I know the feeling myself. Sad for leaving my country and my loved ones and happy to meet new opportunity that you will never meet anywhere but here.�
�What kind of opportunity do you think we�ll find?�
�The kind that fate brings to you, if you are alert enough to be ready. You must be aware of those opportunities. It is why we have to leave our land.�
�Maybe. For me, it feels good to get into the fresh air again.�
�All my neighbors who went to Africa have bought many houses in Europe. I had met many of them, they are praising Africa. They said that you will pick up diamond, gold, cotton, coffee for free in Africa because the continent is very rich and many peoples do not know the value of minerals and other plants. This is what I mean by opportunity.�
�The king also said that there are many diseases.� Jean stared out across the ocean. The waves were calm, but still he felt queasy. After being locked up, he could not feel his legs beneath him. He heard about ocean sickness but had never been sick in his life. Perhaps the dog eating the dog in his dream became sick like this?
�You will find diseases in every country around the world. It is not at an alarming rate yet, just a challenge that we will meet. We are lucky and we don't have to fear diseases because the government has supplied us with medicines.�
�And the natives, will they not eat us?� Jean suddenly leaned over the railing but he did not get sick as he expected. Dog cannibal!
�Cannibals? Not anymore, friend. You are thinking of a century or more ago. We are coming after the priests. Even if priests had not been there yet, these are no longer the dark ages.�
But Jean did not believe this, because of his dream. He had a feeling he knew what to expect, and because of that, felt a little less frightened, a little more ready to face it. �I pray that we reach our destination sooner than one month. I want to be treated like a king too instead of being treated like a servant in jail. I want to make a lot of money and show my mother I made the right choice.�
�We are on the right track. We will collect money with very less effort. They treat Europeans like gods. Imagine me, a common criminal, a god.�
�The king wants us to erase their gods, not become their gods. Do not let him hear you.�
Simon laughed, long and hard. �Oh-ho, you believe anyone really cares about what we do when we get there? You can preach all you want to, friend. My kind of preaching will make them worship me, not some invisible being in the sky.�
Jean shook his head. �To gain their trust, we must be different, stronger, than they are. Do you know what group you are in?� Jean found he was actually feeling better. He felt almost like he understood exactly what would be expected of him. That was a better feeling than just a few minutes earlier.
The water they traveled on was flat, quiet, wide and very very far away. Jean wondered if maybe Africa did not exist except in men�s minds.
Simon pulled out his paper. �Looks like the north, where plantations have been established. There have been some groups that are causing trouble, and we are to control them. You know what that means.� He winked at Jean. �What is your name? We have been chatting without introducing ourselves. I�m Simon.�
�Jean.� They shook and Jean was surprised how cool his hand was for a young man. �Nice to meet you.�
Cold hands but a very big smile, Simon had. �You know, we should stick together, help each other, like a family.� He pulled Jean�s paper from his pocket. �Although I see you are slatted for some unconquered lands. Lucky you.�
Jean thought this a bit forward, but being a former prisoner, he wasn�t about to reject any form of friendliness. �Did you leave a big family?�
�Me? There was the usual noises and carryings-on when I left, but I don�t dwell on it. You?�
�I left some cousins but the only immediate family is my mother. I love her a lot, she is always there for me, in good and bad circumstances.� I will never love someone more than my mother, even my own wife. Jean was not ready yet to take Simon into his personal thoughts.
�Yes, it is good to hear that. I care also about my two young brothers. I want to sleep in the bushes with mosquitoes to make money so my brothers can afford to go to the universities to be doctors or lawyers. I was not intelligent for this study. I have to be honest that school was not meant for me. I will do anything for family.� And Simon looked off over the water, and allowed his face to sadden somewhat with thoughts of home.
At least, that was how Jean read them.
###
The first day in the ship was an adjusting process and the second a learning process from many citizen prisoners of Europe, all talking about Africa. The ship ran by coal at a speed of almost 40 kilometers per hour in the big sea. Every man was involved in operating the big machine. One crewman in blue mechanics clothes, in charge of training the prisoners, came across Jean and Simon. He has been in Africa many times and was one of the members who could give them the clear image of the continent, they quickly learned, a reliable source of information.
Peidro introduced himself to them and asked what they expected on this trip.
Jean responded to him, quite innocently. �We are going to Africa.� He learned in prison never give more information than they asked for.
�I know that. What are you going to do in Africa?� Peidro had a slight Italian accent, blending well with his romantic Latin features.
Jean wondered why Simon, who had regained his talkative self after only a few moment�s pensive watch of the ocean, remained silent. �I am going to work.�
�There is much work to be had there. Every work in Africa brings money, even for the priests and missionaries. The African evangelist is different than they are in Europe. In Europe you need to be qualified to talk to people, and to take their money you need a license. In Africa all you need is personal courage. And forget what you know about money as trade. Their wealth is measured in sheep and livestock. They call a man rich by looking at his children and wives. The richest might have fifteen wives and half a hundred children.�
Simon whistled and Jean laughed.
Piedro ignored them, caught up in his lesson. �So the man who works for God has to have some kind of business there, too. The man who use to be miner in Europe will be an engineer in Africa with many miners workers on his charge. The man who was a servant in Europe will be a king or prince in many areas of the large continent.�
�Or a god,� Simon said.
Piedro suddenly grabbed his shirt. �Do NOT think you can fool with religion, friend. You will be in deeper than that ocean out there.�
Simon, his brow furling in anger, jerked away. After a grimace at Jean he turned to busy himself with a study of the ship�s machinery.
�Those who used to be mad in the streets of London or Paris eating of the garbage in the street will be respected like a genius in Africa. So tell me, in which sector will you be working in?�
�Sector?� When Jean stumbled for words, Simon turned. �I will be a missionary. I really enjoy working with the Bible. In my spare time I can do some diamond business.�
�You won't find diamond everywhere. I am sure that you have that picture in your mind?� Piedro quirked a smile at this, as though hiding a grim secret.
�No, I know that, diamonds are not all over Africa. I will try to find a specific place for those minerals. I have my ways.�
Peidro lost interest in Simon and turned back to Jean, as though seeing a ripe innocence in his eyes. �All the sectors brings money, many make money in plantations too. They make more money than in the mineral sectors. Everything you will touch will turn into gold. The large continent is not yet exploited. The few areas located in our map represent a small part of the rich continent. Every year the map changes. More riches are discovered.�
�How big is the continent?�
�Bigger than Europe and Belgium. Bigger than all of the United States, with Mexico. Maybe even with British Canada.�
�How many times have you been in Africa?� Simon warmed up to Piedro. Jean began to feel a little jealous.
�I work on this ship, so I have been there many times. More than twenty times in five years.�
�Do you make money? I mean, besides being a ship�s crew.� Simon led them for a casual walk through the ship�s belly, and feigned interest in the workings.
�Of course! I wouldn't leave my wife and my son to suffer in this sea if I didn�t. I make plenty of money. I buy from the big port Boma that you will see different products that I sell in Europe.�
�How long do we have to be on this ship?�
�Man! Didn�t they tell you that already?� He laughed his big laugh again. �But I can see you are impatient. You will get there soon enough.� Piedro stopped to brush some dust off one of the big piping works. �Within a month, if the water is good.�
�That will not go fast.� Simon watched the dust on the air as though seeing his own life passing his eyes.
�It will be worth the wait. This sacrifice will change your life forever. You won't find any beggars there or homeless people. You will be sleeping where the government tells you, but wherever that is, you have more to eat than you can imagine. You will find plenty of work, and never lift heavy weights again. Africans will carry boxes for you. They work cheap. You will have bodyguards and servants. Even if you don�t get rich right away, you will feel rich.� He stopped as if to study a lug nut. �You will see in the big port Boma very few opportunities because thousands and thousands of Europeans have taken all the jobs there. You will have to enter the interior of the continent. Boma is becoming a modern city. You will see and find all European products and construction there. It has grown so fast since the five years I landed there.�
Simon hesitated. �Why don't you settle in Africa instead of traveling in the dangerous sea?�
�Man, I love the sea. I would rather die in deep waters than anywhere.� Then Piedro, as if in sudden realization, turned to Jean. �Tell me, what is your project?�
�I am not sure yet. I don't like diamonds, gold and minerals. I may go into the plantation business. I am not a good preacher. I will be purely a business man. I will respect the king�s instructions when talking about God and Jesus to people.�
�You better prepare yourself to preach at least a little, or you won't get the trust of indigenous. What the king has told you to do will guarantee success in a new land. I have seen many people-taken them there, brought them back, both successful and failed. The formula that he has given you has been found after many years of experience in the new land. It is what one must do to live in Africa. Remember that many indigenous in the central South of Africa are cannibals. They may eat you in a second.� And he snapped his fingers in Jean�s face, making the young man blink. �Unless you get to them first, with your God.�
�How will talking of God and Jesus save us? We have guns, that they will respect.�
�Yes, guns may help you for few times but how will one kill a thousand warriors?�
Jean remembered the dream dog. �How well you know cannibalism?�
Piedro only shrugged. �Only from the stories I have heard. Maybe not all true. Many Europeans went alone in the central southern part of the land and were never heard from again. Stories say they were eaten. They don't eat only foreigners like European, they eat also Africans who can not talk their languages. All are enemies, and enemies are eaten.�
�Why do they do that? Don�t they have enough food?� Jean felt in his dream the dog had to eat dog because they didn�t give it anything else. We all do what we have to in order to survive.
Peidro checked his pocket watched, acting startled, but Jean read more, like avoidance, in his profile. �Man, we have been talking for hours. Let�s go to work before the captain of the ship comes. Help me carry the coal from the storeroom to the engine room.�
They went into the storeroom, a very dark room with plenty of black dust. The initial color of the room was indistinguishable underneath the black dust. They stocked many tons of coal for the return trip. Each hour they had to pour tons of coal into the burning engine to keep it heated.
The ship was home to more than tree hundred males and twenty women. There were forty members of the equipage; they used passengers to help them in the heavy work. The women passengers helped the chief to cook and serve. The ship had more than twenty warehouse rooms, most of them plenty and full of equipment material.
Jean complained to Simon while caring the heavy coal.
�Yes, they look light from the eyes but very deceptive, no?�
�All those are coal for the ship?� Jean asked Piedro.
�Of course, the ship has to return with another stock of coal.�
�I never thought that the ship used coal.�
Simon nodded. �I thought that the ship engine works with water.�
Jean laughed. �That would be cheap travel for a ship!� He turned to Piedro. �Certainly is challenging to carry this much coal, for every day we are in the ship.�
�The ship workers are used to it and like this job. As that man said, they make some business too, when we land and they pick up the cheap goods to re-sell.�
�The trip is enjoyable until it comes time to work,� Jean felt muscles growing where he never had them before.
Simon grinned through his sweat. �I will never complain because we don't do it everyday and it is useless to stay in a ship for one month without exercising your body. You have to do something in your spare hours, or go crazy waiting.�
Jean couldn�t argue, and Piedro was in very good shape. He found himself panting with exhaustion after the first couple hauls, but this was better than sitting around topside with nothing to do.
They slept in a big room with more than hundred boatmates, their bunks nearly touching each other. Some talked and many drank, and finally asleep quite a few snored, but the ship�s captain made sure that at least the drinking and talking stopped by ten p.m. There were four big rooms in the ship and a small one were women slept. The few small and privilege rooms were reserved to high personalities and the ship captain and his assistants.
Jean wandered one night when he thought no one watched, and found a woman at the rail, sobbing. He asked if he could help.
Startled, she looked through her messed red-blonde hair at him. �Do you care?�
�Well, out here on the ocean, we are a community, are we not?�
�No. Everyone cares only about themselves, even out here. I could jump overboard, and everyone would clap as I drowned.�
Jean put a hand on her arm. She could be no more than 17. �Well, let�s not try them. Even if you are right. Where are you headed?�
�I don�t know. I ran away from home, and ended up here. Cooking, slaving. What about you?�
�I am a prisoner. Freed for African trade. I am anxious for it.�
�Sure.� She looked out over the dark water that occasionally caught a glint of the quarter moon. �Can I ask you something?�
�I guess so.�
�Are you a virgin?�
�You mean�in sex?� Jean blushed. He was glad it was dark and she didn�t seem to notice.
�I think I will be put into prostitution. I won�t earn much, if I don�t know how.�
Jean took her arm and led her away from the railing. �Let me walk you back to your room. Maybe I can convince you that there are reasons to hope for a good life, even in Africa.�
###
Simon the next morning was well rested. Jean felt he hadn�t slept at all. He had stayed with Agatha until she stopped crying and fell asleep.
�Jean, this life reminds me of boarding school.�
�I have never been in boarding school.�
�We didn't have beer but the supervisor monitored us to make sure that before ten we all went to bed.�
�Sounds like jail. There was no beer there either! There were many things we couldn't do.�
�Life is not restricted here, except by the sea. We are in a very small piece of land flowing on the big water. This punishment is for a very short time.�
Jean only thought about Agatha. She seemed in a prison that had no end.
###
They reached Africa at the biggest port called Boma. Jean and Simon both found they knew a few people, friends and colleagues, already established there. At the time they were one of twelve ships arriving with more than two thousands prisoners and one thousand ordinary citizens. Jean's ship was the fourth one to reach the destination. An average of two ships arrived and left the port every day.
The first few days Jean spent trying to absorb the new surroundings, and missing his old ones-not the prison but the life he used to have, but his old friends, family and things he hoped to do when he was free. He regretted and sometimes found himself even wishing to be back in jail where at least his mother could visit him. He missed her, and didn�t even know how to contact her to tell her he was okay.
Maybe her worry was real. Maybe he did fall off the ends of the earth.
The local European bosses gave them two weeks to stay in the port to acclimate and learn some techniques before going in the interior. What faced them to learn was enormous-that of conquering the land for Belgium before other countries sent their people. England took the most of the southern part of the continent already as well as some in the east and west. Portugal took some lands in the South too. France also took one west central part and one in the North. Italy took some part of the Northeast, and Germany had laid some claim as well. All of them wanted more.
The fight in Central Africa was between the fast-coming France first, and England and Portugal in second position. The European nations had only one rule: first come first serve was the rule in these lands of Africa. This was their playground, their casino, their get-rich-quick land, where gambling was a way of life-and death.
Once they were acclimated they would meet their biggest challenge; exploring new places were there was no road, only single trails through heavy undergrowth that one would machete through to make way for civilization. In the port city, the local people had already been exposed to civilization, sent to school, converted to Christianity, but the new technologies growing so fast in Europe and the U.S. were slow to come here. Roads were not yet ready for the automobile because they were so new even the developed countries did not have the roads yet. But they worked hard, seeing the future-already they had begun a road from the town out toward a settlement designed to become another town. They had a medical clinic and other facilities, like a local phone service. And they were, finally, getting electricity, at least in the port town.
Many indigenous peoples worked in Boma for the colonists in exchange of materials, like clothes, mirrors, furniture. They learned the use of Belgium money. The local Africans were escorting colonists to different parts of the interior too, helping to translate French into local languages, carrying materials�and so because they needed places to rest, the settlements started to grow. Many of those natives became porters-servants to the whites being sent into the interior. Jean was told he would be assigned porters who knew the language. He tried to learn but he only had two weeks.
In Boma Simon went to the missionary facilities while Jean went in the governmental facilities under the command of an ex-Belgium soldier. The commandant, Bardo Bingham, always wearing military clothes, was in charge of sending them to the newest part of the land and to give them some instructions.
He called the new colonists, including Jean, and gave them some instructions. �I am not a good talker, a man of action instead. I am the commandant chief of this land. I have the obligation to look after you and you have the obligation to look after the indigenous. Since your arrival you see how previous colonists have done their missions. In my twenty years I witness many changes. Boma was made of bushes, trees and animals but now is a city where we have everything we have in Europe. I have made this land my home. I want you to go and do the same in the interior. Boma was started by a priest to preach evangelism. Here the indigenous have accepted our civilization. They are no longer primitives. The Africans here will help you�into the interior, to find others to civilize. They will help you to translate. There are thousand of dialects but many are similar to each other. You will sleep in the bushes with local people but do not accept their lives without trying to give them yours.� He placed his hand on his gun holster as he paced, as though deep in thought. Jean in the pause saw several women being led through the street in chains. Agatha was one. He nodded at her but she did not seem to see him. �Now I must get serious. You will not all succeed. It took years to see Boma from a small village to a town. You are superior to them because of your technology, remember that, and use it where you can. Scare them into submission if you must, but remember to always be careful and alert for danger.�
He sat finally, and laughed at their somber expressions. �I am not here to change anything the King has already told you. I am here to help the implementation of his policies. In Africa we live by Belgium rules. Every piece of land you will settle is automatically Belgium's land. You will pay taxes of all your enterprises, you won't escape tax here. We will send monitors to come and evaluate the progress of your work. We are still training many Africans to join us in the Public Force. We will seal the frontiers with our military personnel soon. Live with indigenous like their boss, exploit all the minerals and plantations in exchange for clothes. Send all that you collect here and we will evaluate all the production and collect the governmental taxes. Use your mind and the local Africans will work for you in exchange for peanuts. The government has identified some villages to turn into towns and help to implement the Belgium's policies. I saw many successful business men who came with two clothes but now own more than hundred properties in Europe. The porters who will accompany you will help you in your work are civilized. They will be your supervisors should you start your mines and plantations. Should you be that fortunate, put them to work for you. But first they will help you to communicate. The government will assist you, as will the priests you find along the way. Don't forget to make reports of all you�re doing so we get a clear picture of your activities.�
He slapped his hands together and stood again. �This sounds like a great deal to remember, I suppose, but you are here under the graces of your government, and if not for that, would still be behind cold walls and steel bars. You have fresh clean air and opportunity here! You are in Africa under the guidance of Belgium which took the initiative to offer these opportunities. Behave yourself and work hard for the development of this continent, and our land too. Belgium does not have diamonds, gold and many valuables and so must get them from Africa. Good luck in all your activities and may God be with you in all your enterprises. Good luck.�
Once he finished the speech, he pulled out his tablet and began to call names. He assigned porters to the names of the new colonists he called who were ready to head out into the interior. Fifty colonists left Boma with about some hundred eighty Porters, local citizens of Boma. Each colonist had at one point during the previous two weeks made a verbal presentation of thirty seconds to the commandant, and from this the commandant had decided how many porters he need.
Finally Jean heard his name called. At first timid, he finally ran up. �Hello commandant. My name is Jean Turken.�
�Hello. Have a seat.�
Jean fidgeted, wondering if he was ready for this after two weeks. But he knew he had to be. They didn�t allow more time. �I haven't figured out what exactly I�d like to do.�
The commandant sighed. �Another prisoner? You are an indecisive lot.�
Jean bowed meekly. �You are right, my general.�
�This is a last chance that the government will give you.� He poked his pencil in Jean�s face. �Another crime and you will be send back for life in prison.� He looked down at his tablet. �You are scheduled to be sent in the central south part of the land.� He looked up sharply. �Do you know what that means, boy?�
Jean figured there was only one answer to give. �Yes?�
The commandant seemed to shudder but quickly picked up a pencil and made note of his decision. �I give you two porters. These are your advisors, bodyguards and translators. They will help you in your projects. The government will pay them for one year before you get your activities settled.� He gave Jean a piercing stare. �Remember, taxes are government priority. In that part of the land you will find cotton and coffee growing like wild plants. You will mobilize villagers to collect it.� He took one of many bags stored at the corner of the office. �This is a bag of clothes. Give one cloth for one ton of cotton. The porters will help you. The first thing to do when you find a village is to get the heart of the village's chief. Then you have the heart of the village. Use the Bible like� cocaine to weaken even the stoutest villager. I am giving you three guns for your protection. Be careful, there are tribes that still eat humans.� He chuckled. �Like ship meat mixed with local spices and salt.�
The commandant was still laughing over the cannibal�s taste in food when Jean left his office. When he walked out into the street he saw that the natives held signs to identify themselves to their new �boss.� Jean walked among them, reading signs, until he found Kinwa and Mpuwu. He gave them each one of the guns he was issued before he left the building and had a short shooting course outside the village square with the two men.
Some of the Africans porters came from as far as Zanzinbar, some from the far west part of the continents and some were local people from Boma and surrending villages. Boma as a territory had been discovered a century ago, but has been known about since the 1400's, a popular African kingdom called "Kongo".
Jean introduced himself to Mpuwu and Kinwa. Mpuwu seemed like a father to Kinwa but to Jean, these Africans all seemed to look alike. Kinwa was much more talkative and seemed happier to be a porter than Mpuwu, who followed along in sullen silence. Jean thought perhaps he only pretended to be civilized.
But no time to worry about that now. Time to walk into the heart of Africa.

CHAPTER 2
The following day Jean took Kinwa and Mpuwu with him to get the map and his meager belongings. The two villagers carried little food and water. They left Boma at 9 a.m. after filling up on as much food and water as they could swallow.
After a walk of many miles, they slept in one of the locations established by other colonists along the way. This was a lonely and difficult trip, crossing rivers and many dark forests. The only sounds they heard were birds and wild animals, like a cougar at one point, and hyenas at another. Jean gratefully allowed Mpuwu and Kinwa take turns guiding the way. He had little experience reading maps or talking with the colonists, and felt shy of most. He saw great signs of attempts at civilization, with colonists directing villagers on cutting trees and digging roads in various parts of the land.
Settlements sprang up like isolated mushrooms, and in each it seemed a colonist had established himself like a local king.
Jean had been advised to establish himself in the interior south section were people were more kind. All the indigenous had good and bad sides. The people from south of actual Congo were cannibals but very obedient. In the North, where Simon went, they were not cannibals but loved to fight. Fighting was great sport to them, and hobby red blood a favorite award. Even between themselves they ended up fighting, killing or maiming each other in the process - almost like practice for the sport of fighting others.
Jean wondered how Simon would survive all that. He found out little about the man he came to think of as friend, mostly for his kind concern of Jean�s welfare. And every so often on the walk he thought about Agatha. He couldn�t help her-he didn�t know how. It appeared she would be used a slave, but he hoped, he even prayed, it wouldn�t be a whoring slave.
At one point during their walk Jean saw several native Africans working hard to pull several others out of quicksand, to the point of near death for all of them. He didn�t even know if he could be that brave for a brother of his, if he had one. Kinwa told Jean that all natives treated each other as though brothers and sisters, even if they had different mothers.
Jean grew more weary with every passing hour. Even a young man without exercise of a goodly nature can get out of shape in no time. Kinwa and Mpuwu often grew impatient waiting for him. They were accustomed to walking many miles without getting tired. Jean felt his load was light, only a very light bag and his gun, but was the most tired in the hot atmosphere of the continent.
I could have stayed alone in jail instead of coming in this forest�I don't know what my mother is doing right now while I walk alone in this hell�
After yet another fifteen miles on his feet without stopping, his legs nearly gave out. �Please, let�s rest.� Without waiting for an answer he sat gingerly and a fallen-over tree.
Kinwa, the younger of the two, turned to him, having let Mpuwu go on ahead. �Boss, are you tired just now?�
Jean shook his head. And these were interpreters? �I can�t get my legs to work anymore.�
�Come on, boss, you are a man and man do not die from fatigue. If really you follow the caprices of the body we will never reach our destination.�
�You go on without me. I�m not used to this. Give me a month�a week. I�ll outrun you.�
He pulled open his canteen but it had gone dry, mostly likely because he tended to swallow too quickly. �Any water to spare?� he asked Kinwa.
As Mpuwu and Kinwa watched him rest and drink, they chatted with each other in the language they knew he wouldn�t understand.
"Angariya comment uyu muntu eko na kuria eko na kuwiya (I have the impression that we won't reach our destination),� Mpuwu said to Kinwa. They continued their conversation in their native language.
�Why?� Kinwa found Jean intriguing.
�The man is weaker than our sisters.�
�No man, all the colonists are the same. They cannot walk, they never been in forest before. It is a normal phenomenon but I am sure by our third day of walking the man will grow into his feet.�
�If we were alone, we could have been very far.�
�If we were alone,� Kinwa said with a laugh. �We would not be here with this new job and education. We have to follow his instructions. We will get paid by the Belgium's government and will make more money by living with him. We don't have any choice, what is good is that the man is young, younger than us. We might even become good friends and brothers with him.�
�Maybe I can get him on his feet now.� Mpuwu walked up to Jean and put a hand down to him. �Boss, you are a man, not a girl with weaknesses. If we stay in one spot too long the wild animals come. They eat the weak ones. Come on now.�
Jean sprang to his feet, honestly feeling better. �Let�s go, I pray that we find a suitable village soon.�
�We will get there. Only another hundred miles.�
�Hundred?� He nearly sat again.
�Of course, but we will rest twice on our way.�
�Twice?� This is truly a punishment, he felt. How he longed for his cool jail cell at the moment.
�The walk will be over, but then we will enjoy the fruit of our sacrifices for many years. It must be a struggle if it is worth doing.�
Jean liked their enthusiasm. He could almost feel it moving through the air into his heart. His legs no longer felt a part of him as he followed Kinwa and Mpuwu down the road.
After one more hour of walking, they saw from afar some kind of smoke.
Mpuwu said, �Boss, we have a good news for you.�
�Please call me Jean. Boss is too heavy and unfamiliar for me .I am not so comfortable with that name. If you cannot call me Jean, please call me friend.�
�Sorry, Jean. I have good news. Do you see the smoke over there?�
�Yes, I can see.�
�It is a villager's sign, we are approaching a place where we can rest and find new direction.�
�How far away is it, do you think?�
�Some few minutes.�
When Jean heard this he picked up his pace. But the smoke never seemed to get any closer.
Jean complained. �We have been seeing the smoke for more than an hour!�
�Don't worry! It doesn�t get farther away!� Kinwa laughed and Mpuwu joined him. They nudged Jean but he failed to translate the humor.
�Those few minutes you are talking about seems to be eternal. Is this another failure to communicate? A day to me is an hour to you?�
�Don't worry boss, sorry I forgot, my friend, we will reach the village now. We are in a very good area were there are no lions to perturb our journey, so no worry.�
�I wasn�t�� but Jean realized he was worried about animals too, which would become a true problem if they don�t get somewhere before dark.
Finally Jean heard some shouts and some singing he felt were coming from a village. �Thank you, Lord, that we have reached the first destination. I have been waiting for this moment for a very long time.� Still they continued to follow the road without end. �I don't understand, first we saw the smoke, then we are heard voices, why we don't see the village?�
�We are in the locality already, it is a question of a few more steps,� Kinwa pointed ahead, to nothing Jean could see.
�I don't trust your words anymore. You talk of minutes that turn into hours. I hope you never talk of days.�
�We know what minutes mean to you. We are educated. We have been to school for few years and we know the difference between minutes and hours.�
�Why we don't see the village?�
�Because this is Africa. You must rid yourself of European mind. We will no longer talk of time, because it confuses you.�
The worst for Jean happened as they walked. The sun set. He was in darkness. He was in Africa, walking, in darkness. He could hear the coyotes, or maybe they were hyenas. Sometimes he didn�t know the difference. �It is near midnight! I�m going to have to sit again!�
Kimwa and Mpuwu each took one of his arms and dragged him through the bushes. Jean could smell the smoke and then he saw the people, several of them, dancing around the fire. The village!
�Finally�sleep.�
�You see? Just minutes.� Kinwa said, and laughed.
Finally Jean got the humor. Time really was relative, after all. �Well, I hope I get used to walking soon. You enjoy walking while me, I hate walking. I�ll probably hate it even when I�m used to it.�
Kinwa couldn�t understand this. �You will get used to it, you just feel angry, a normal reaction to fatigue. We walked many miles before in our life and the few miles we are walking today meant nothing to us. You will get use to it.�
�It will take me years to walk like you do.�
�Not years - only three days.�
�Ohho! Your three days may mean three years.�
�Three day is always three day. Tomorrow, after tomorrow and the following days.�
###
The first local man they saw was a hunter. On top of his shoulder he carried a Springbok. He interrupted their conversation by greeting them - �Hello!�
Jean, startled, looked around. �Oh, hello.�
�You are welcome in our land.
�Well, thank you, I�m glad for that.�
Kinwa and Mpuwu stepped forward. �We are your brothers from another mother from the big port Boma.�
�How are our brothers and sisters in Boma?�
�Most are fine. Some are not so fine. We are looking for the colonist�s house. We have his brother who is with us.�
�Go straight and you will see a big building with foreign materials next to the King�s first wife house.�
Jean paid less attention to what they said than he paid to the man himself, wearing only traditional shorts with a dead animal on top of his shoulder. He had no gun but had a traditional tribal spear in his hand. The animal could weigh some forty kilograms but he carried it with ease.
When they passed the man on Jean looked around again. On their way they could see lots of signs of civilization. By the few glances he got he knew that these people have already seen a white man. Of course, there would be a colonist here, too! Local people here were wore modern clothes and signs of new construction lay about in the street. They saw the house of the king�s first wife built fresh with modern materials. The modern materials were gift of the colonists for allowing them to establish themselves in the area. The colonists had to pay habitation taxes to the village's chiefs and to other traditional kings some kind of tribute. Everybody had to pay something as individuals to the local government as well.
Jean turned to Kinwa and Mpuwu. �I heard we�d find people walking nude here?�
Kinwa blushed but Mpuwu, for once, spoke up. �Yes, we will find them but little bit farther to the center. This is the farthest point we will see natives exposed to civilization.�
�Do these villagers eat humans for food?�
�Not here. Once they did and not just colonists but all humans in Africa who do not talk their language. They were considered enemies to all but their own people. With the arrival of the Bible people are fast learning to farm and raise cattle and respect human life.� Mpuwu spat on the ground. �They do not understand culture, if they think we did not respect human life before.�
Kinwa stopped to clear their path of some large pieces of wood left behind from a building project. The town was not dirty or polluted, just very filled with building projects.
Mpuwu watched, not offering to help. �The local people had to pay a portion of their farm�s products to the village chief,� Kinwa said as he worked. �The colonists had to give modern materials to the chief too. The relationship between the chief and colonists is excellent.�
They were welcomed warmly by the colonist who was living with his European family, a wife and three children, two girls and a boy. Their names were Sam and Molly, Carin, Celene and Carl. The children went to their rooms to do their studies after being introduced. They had to learn at home because there was no school here that could teach what they needed to learn. Sam was to be Jean�s adviser for a few days, to help him with the next part of the journey. Sam and Molly�s house was equipped with modern furniture from Europe. His house definitely did not match the rest of the village. It stuck out, while the others tried to blend in with their surroundings.
They sat down with coffee and some donuts. Jean ate one and listened to Sam talk about his life here. Finally Sam stopped talking and so Jean figured it was his turn.
Jean put the donut down he had reached for. �I have the impression that you are well known in the area and well respected?�
�As far as power goes, after the traditional king it is me. The king respects me more than any body else.�
�How long have you been here?�
�Three years longer than my family. I had to establish myself first, as someone who could help people improve their lives here. I�d say it�s been eleven years now.�
�How did do you manage to � to convince them you could help?�
�Young brother, it was very difficult. I went first to the north part of the country, part of a group of fifty colonists. The government sent us to exploit gold. We met a strange tribe who wouldn�t allow us to establish there. At first we had the impression that they loved us. But after few months their local King become unhappy no matter what we gave him and mobilized his warriors to attack us. We fought for some four hours. We were superior with modern guns. We killed many villagers and lost two people on our side. The chief in our camp didn�t want to listen to us when we told him to take us back to Boma. He said no, they will never come back and we will establish ourselves by force in that part of land. Just when we were sure they were gone forever the warriors came back. We felt safe in those three weeks so they caught us by surprise. I do not know how many, but very many. This fight was much more intense, and we kept running out of places to hide because it seemed they were everywhere. We ran short on ammunition and thought maybe it was all over, when they finally went away. We lost seven people in our group, including two women and the chief of the group who had persuaded us to stay.
�So we then returned to Boma. And then we went to the central part of the land to exploit cacao. We lived there for some three months in a group of 70 Belgians. The local king was good to us but his villagers were � I�ll just say undisciplined. We needed some 300 local villagers to help us with the cocoa but they couldn�t obey to our instructions and we ended up not producing. We couldn�t get established there. In my return to Boma again, this time I decide now to change sectors. So I came to the South to grow cotton.�
�You make it all sound so difficult. I heard it would be easy to get established and make money.�
�Sometimes difficult, most of the time easy. And the rewards are well worth it. I have some 50 villagers working for me and we are only one of four colonists in this area. The others Belgians live deep inside the village. The village is getting bigger all the time; we�re up to some five thousand habitants. We have some mineral resource too, some copper and other unknown mineral. Our government may send some 200 colonists at the end of this year and more materials to start the mineral exploitation. And this means employment for more than one thousand local people. All the men in this village and surrounding villages may get jobs. At least those who want to work. The rest�� Sam shrugged as though Jean would understand. He didn�t.
�Tell me what the reaction of local people was when they saw you?�
�Different reactions. We don�t go into those areas where they never saw white men. Sometime they may kill you or even eat you. Some tribes here still eat foreigners. Not exactly here but few miles away. If they don�t know you they may eat you. Skin color doesn�t even matter, white, black, if you don�t talk their dialects you may find yourself in a cooked pot. We took from Boma some Africans like you took two servants. They protected us, did all the talking, just in case. You need bodyguards too.� Sam pointed at Jean�s two porters. �How many dialects can they talk? A gun alone cannot help you against a thousand villagers.�
�But that�s exactly what it must do,� Jean thought, and shivered. �Did you know any of the victims who were eaten out here?�
�I know four people who have been eaten. They went into the deep South without any Porters. We don't know exactly how it happen because they had guns.�
�You are not scared that you may end up in a pot or one of your family members or your colleagues may end up in a pot?
Sam laughed and sat back as Molly poured them more coffee. �Impossible.�
�Why?�
�I am not a foreigner anymore. Those practices are dying here thanks to our missionaries and priests. We actually have almost 40 Belgians here without counting their families. The four colonists that I mentioned before worked in the plantation. The rest are into religion and social activities. We have primary schools and sometime in the next two years we will have secondary schools.� Sam reached over and grabbed Molly�s hand. They exchanged smiles. �At least our youngest will be able to benefit from that. All the teachers are from Europe but we�re hoping to train some natives soon. We have a hospital with two Belgians doctors and four female nurses. People change with civilization, and it�s always for the better, remember that.� Sam had stabbed at Jean with his pipe but sat back again. �In the North they don�t eat people but they are warriors. In the South people don�t fight well but they will jump strangers when their back is turned. They are not real trusting of strangers.�
Jean felt his throat closing, just when he reached for another donut, because the donuts looked like pieces of human anatomy. Behind him Kinwa and Mpuwu exchanged glances. Kinwa almost spoke out but Mpuwu stopped him.
Sam sat back, puffing on his lit pipe. �Boma existed now for almost five centuries, before even Belgium decided to grab this land as his colony. Only in recent years did colonists come in to rebuild Boma, but it was discovered long ago. The advantage of Boma his that it is a port and a reliable entrance to central Africa.�
Jean cleared his throat. �How much you pay your workers?�
�Almost nothing, that�s the beauty of the system! I pay them peanuts, they don�t know the use of money. They needed clothes, you have already known that they wore almost nothing before colonists came. But in two years� time the local people will come to know the use of money. This is why people in Europe are coming to catch this opportunity at this time, while labor is so cheap and easily disgarded. The government sponsors us for the first year and when you get established you will take care of your servants. One year is more than enough to get established here.
�Where do you send your products?�
�I send it to Asia and Europe, especially in England where I can make a lot of profits. I send workers with the product at Boma and then from there I sell to other businessmen from Asia and Europe.�
Jean remembered what he�d seen and not paid much mind to in Boma's port. It was a center of many things, and all sorts of products were being loaded and unloaded there. Many covered by the tarp to prevent the rain from destroying most of products. This was just a confirmation that many colonist his established especially in the north and were sending they products to Boma. �Do you enjoy this place?�
�Look yourself. I have a big house here and I will build another house in Boma. I bought a big house for my parents and my wife�s parent in Europe. I bought a big house for myself too in Belgium and many things that I didn't mention before I caught this opportunity. I used to be jobless in Europe.�
�And all of that makes being here worthwhile? All the dangers, the strangeness?�
�When you get used to it, it isn�t strange.�
�But still dangerous?�
Sam shrugged. When Jean didn�t accept that answer, he added, �not really.�
�Who motivated you to come here?�
�Molly�s uncle brought me here. He still lives in Boma. I had been struggling with odd jobs to feed my family and he told me about this. I figured I had nothing to lose.�
�What special advice can you offer me?�
�My boy, take every advantage of this opportunity. You are lucky to come here at your age. I come here when I was 35. By the time you get to be my age you will be very rich.�
�Perhaps my lack of age will work against me.�
Sam laughed heartily. �You may think so now, but wait. Go and find your own place and then after some two months you may go to Boma to ask for more help, if you still need it. You probably won�t. The little bit of help I can offer should be enough. You don�t need capital to start your own business, just muscle and sweat and willingness to learn. In the future these kinds of opportunities will be gone. Think like me, boy. Be where it matters.�
At supper they talked of lighter subjects, of politics in other countries, of how some countries use force to get what they want, when there�s always a better way. Then Molly had a bath drawn for Jean, and he relaxed into the wet warmth, trying to forget his worries. He couldn�t relax as long as he wanted because Kinwa and Mpuwu had been convinced to take a bath, too.
The next morning Jean and his two porters continued the journey. Sam gave more advice, as Molly and her children looked on approvingly. A few times Sam looked at Molly as though wondering if he was telling things right, and Jean could almost see her nod several times. His mother would like that, Jean realized.
�Treat well your two porters. They are key to your success. Don't forget to take your gun wherever you go, even when you shower or go to the toilet. You have to catch first the attention of the chief before thinking of starting your activities, teach them the word of God. Keep in mind that the deeper you go, the deeper you will find no civilized people and the only way to create friendship is with the words of God.�
They left early in the morning at around six a.m. They met many villagers on their way who were going to hunt and farm away from the big village. Jean saw his first herd of wild elephants. He had seen elephants in the zoo, but here they seemed like they could walk right over him, like he would a bug. The porters saw his fear and laughed at him. They tried to get an elephant to come to them, which made Jean even more nervous.
�The elephants are not dangerous,� Kinwa told him.
�Can we shoot one?�
�Whatever for?� Mpuwu nudged Kinwa and both looked totally shocked by the idea.
Jean looked up at the thunderous beasts not paying him any mind. �Ah, target practice?�
�We will save our bullets. See how many hang together? Shoot at one and they will stampede. One bullet will not kill one, but one will kill you.�
Jean felt his fears transfer to a need to shed blood. �We have enough bullets in our stock, we can shoot.�
�Let�s keep the bullet for others dangerous animals and bad people too.� Kinwa grabbed Jean�s barrel and lowered it.
One of them, being startled, brayed, and all the elephants joined in, their voices shaking the trees and making the grasses bend. The elephants walked in a group, plowing over the smaller trees that were in their way. Jean and his group watched the elephants passing by like a live movie. There were more than a hundred in that group many small elephants and their mothers following behind. The braying finally stopped when they came to a small river to drink.
Jean nodded, glad he didn�t shoot. �This is God's wonder.�
�Did you ever see an elephant before, Jean?� Mpuwu was anxious to get moving but Jean seemed rooted to the spot.
�In a zoo once, as a boy. Otherwise, just in books.�
�The elephant is a good animal. They do not regularly attack villagers. If you are attacked by an elephant that means you have problems in your family or with someone else.� Mpuwu put a hand on his arm when Jean still didn�t move. �You will see many more elephants in your days in Africa.�
�I love this.�
�Let us go now. We have many more miles to walk.�
�Let�s leave when the elephants leave. Why don't they call the elephant king of the jungle? He is huge. He could squash a lion.�
�Even elephants are afraid of lions. We couldn't stand like this if it was a lion. We�d be panicked and hiding in the tops of trees and shooting in every direction. I know, I�ve done it. The Lion can walk alone because he is confident and sure of himself.�
Jean was warned not to wear red clothes during the long journey. They have told him that many dangerous wild animal attack people wearing red clothes because it indicated "meat and the blood of meat."
�I still think there�s an injustice here, calling a small animal king instead of this monster elephant. Why would something like that be afraid of a tiny lion?�
�We will meet a lion in our journey and you will confirm with the rest of the world the lion's supremacy.�
Jean grunted. He started to walk with them. �Until I�m convinced, I will consider the elephant the king.�
�Even if we don't meet the lion, you will hunt one day in the big forest and you will see what we have seen,� said Kinwa, who thought Jean should listen more to people who know.
The elephants finished drinking the water in a small passing river and left the place with a thundering roar as they headed away from the three men. This scene motivated the young colonist to walk more quickly, to heighten his pursuit of getting deep into the interior of the land. Surely there would be other great scenes worth seeing in his lifetime.
###
But the same desperate fatigue came over Jean after walking more than thirty miles. He could walk more miles this time, but why again must he get tired? Why did it take so long to get from one place to the next? Why was the ground so hard to walk on? �Why do we have to walk for many miles before finding another big village?�
�It is only this area that we are walking many kilometers before finding a colonists village. Remember this morning we met many villagers on our way.� Kinwa enjoyed making Jean feel stupid.
�I�m tired.�
�Be strong, Jean,� cautioned Mpuwu, �even our sisters walk sometimes many kilometers to visit relatives.�
�In our land, we use wheels to transport us instead of our feet.�
�The only place you may find transport here is Boma and we are far from Boma. There is no road to rely on here. But we do not worry because we have been walking like this since our childhood.�
�Let us rest for a while.�
�In this heat it is right to feel tired. Better to force yourself to keep going.�
�I suppose, a little longer.�
Jean didn't want to reveal his past, so he kept secret the story of his life in prison. He realized why the government sent prisoners to Africa. The government didn't free us�They pretend to give us a second chance in sending us in this disadvantage community to suffer far from our families and friends. I cannot return home because I will still be captured in the police custody. It was better to enjoy the fresh air than living in a small spaceship, which he often pretended to be in while in the jail cell. It made living tolerable, at least.
They walked some eighty miles to find the next colonists before seeing the sign of a village. Jean was not as excited like he was the last day when he saw smoke and heard some noises. At least it meant they were closer, but he still knew there were many miles to go yet.
He asked the porters, who he came to think of as servants, �Why do we keep walking for miles after hearing village's noise?
�Wind carries sound a long way.� Kinwa chuckled. �Didn�t they teach you that in your state?�
But Jean didn�t answer. They didn�t share their past with him-why would he with them?
Mpuwu approached a farmer coming from the field and spoke to him in their dialect.
�Hello.�
�Hello brother from another mother. I am Wanka.� Wanka carried a sack of potatoes to the village.
�We are from Boma and we would like to know where can we meet a white man.�
�White man?�
�Yes, a colonist.�
�I know them�I will take you there. Is he the other man with you?�
�Yes, he is.�
Wanka walked with Mpuwu to join the others. �I heard that in Boma they are many whites?�
�Yes, there are thousand of white people. Like the numbers of stars.� Mpuwu gestured skyward.
�I heard that whites erupt like lava from volcano's mountain?�
�Those rumors are false. We must not fear their numbers. There are human like every other people.�
�Why do they appear so different to us?�
�There are not different to us, they have all we have and eat food like us. They can die of thirst like us.� Mpuwu did not like this man�s manner of leaning toward him when they walked. He was afraid Wanka was going to fall into him sometimes and they would both tumble to the floor.
�You lie. Whites are different to us in everything. You are trying to protect your friend. I believe that whites erupt from mountains in winter and run over everything in their way.�
Mpuwu shrugged. �There is nothing we can tell you to change your beliefs. You must know that they are not different to us. But maybe as time goes by you will understand.�
�Those people are very good to us as you said despite their different looks. They brought us some clothes. Last week they gave to all my children and my wives some clothes. We used to wear animals skin and plant leaves before their arrival.� Wanka laughed. �So maybe they will run over us but maybe we will be glad for it.� He leaned close again. �But sometimes they get too demanding, and that makes me fearful.�
Mpuwu ignored his fear, though knowing it well. �How many are there in this village?�
�Whites?� Wanka looked skyward as though counting stars. �I have seen five males, no women among them. Sometimes more come and leave again. That�s how I see them - always coming and going. Do they live in Boma?�
�They come from very far away but in Boma you will find a lot of whites, thousands.�
�You said that you are from Boma.� Wanka stopped to adjust his load and followed Mpuwu again. Kinwa and Jean walked on ahead, so Mpuwu and Wanka followed a distance behind.
�Yes, we are from Boma. I was born there and grow up there. I want to live far from Boma with our boss. We call him Jean.�
�I have a cousin who is in Boma. When he comes to visit he always bring some clothes. Do you makes clothes or pick clothes from trees in Boma?�
�No, clothes are made in the country of whites, brought to us by big steel ships.�
�Did you ever visit the country of whites?� Wanka licked his lips as though wondering over their flavor.
�No. I hope to someday. They say there are many great things there.�
�They have a country where they erupt from mountains. The white people told us that eating foreign people is bad in the eyes of God.�
�That is the biggest sin in the World. The one who eat his fellow human will go into hell and will be burned into eternity.�
Wanka shifted his potato load to his other shoulder. �I am not a cannibal but I have talked with them. They say that theirs is a ritual that has a dual purpose, keeps their enemies from returning to meet them in the next life and helps to keep them from being too hungry and removing all their resources too quickly. You tell me what to do if we should run short of meat? The animals, because so many are hunting, are not able to grow a strong herd anymore. When we were kids we used to hunt animals next to our yard, not going out far at all. Now we have to walk more than ten miles every day to get good meat.�
�God will provide food.�
�Tell me, I will go to hell too?�
�Why?�
�I ate some foreigners before the arrival of the white.�
�If you did not know it was bad before you knew God, He will forgive you now that you know.� Mpuwu realized that Wanka leaned more closely when the sack was carried on the other shoulder, and decided to get used to walking a little sideways.
�I remember the first time we ate a foreigner. I was almost ten years old. He was just passing through, and as black of skin as I ever saw. I asked him if he knew where he was going but he couldn�t talk the same dialect like us. So then my father and my late uncle came at him with knifes. They killed him and my mother and the neighbors cooked him. They send also a portion of meat to the village�s chief and other friends of my father join us. It tasted very nice, what I remember. A rare treat because foreigners do not come often into this area. Did you ever taste human meat?�
�Not me.�
�Why not?�
�Because when we were born the priests were already in our area to show us the right way. But my parents in their generation before they arrival of priests, they use to eat black foreigners and once ate a white foreigner. Tell me, if you go to another land of foreigners and they ate you how will you feel?�
Wanka laughed. �You sound like a priest yourself! Do you only figure they are right and no one else?� He sighed, and for a moment they walked in silence. �Black foreigners of the north do not eat people. We people from the South do not have to travel to the other part of the world.�
They walked on, talking and not talking, and finally after five miles reach the house of the priests, a big modern house built in a form of boarding school.
The five priests were happy to meet the young and ambitious young European, Jean, who wanted to live in Africa and build his future. As usual, Jean didn�t want them to know he had been in prison. He felt they would be forgiving, but he only hoped to look ahead now, and not behind. They had many fine things in this house, though, that made his hands itching to go back to his stealing ways.
�Who motivated you to come to Africa?�
�My late uncle.� Jean was introduced to the five men, and he struggled to keep their names straight. The one who did the most talking was called Jimbo, which he found an unusual name, but also somewhat European, so he could remember it.
�What are you planning to do in Africa?�
Jean accepted the coffee they offered. They had put sugar and milk into it and he didn�t really like it that way but he didn�t complain. It didn�t seem right to complain. Mpuwu and Kinwa both said no to coffee, and looked around as though uncomfortable, and wanting to leave.
�I want first to look of the land and find my own place where I will make a coffee or cotton plantations. I want a place where whites never been before. The king and the authority in Boma have told us to capture new lands.
Jimbo nodded, his grin growing wider. �It is possible to find that kind of land here in the South of Congo. People here are passive, but in the North people resist our entrance. The problem is that in the North they don�t eat people, yet are resistant to us. And in the South they are friendly but they eat unknown people. We have been preaching to end of these practices and we have a good response. You don�t have to worry. You have two Porters who are your interpreters and protectors. They won 't be seen as foreigners because they speak the same languages, just a little different in dialect but they can communicate. A foreigner is someone who don�t speak the same dialect enough to be understood. Are your workers from Boma or the North?
�They are from Boma but I don't know where they are originated from. Boma is becoming a big town where people from different part of Africa lives now.� Jean glanced back but Kinwa had disappeared and Mpuwu continued looking around nervously.
�We help everybody here, colonists who need help and many villagers too. We do other things, with God�s assistance. We have one of the biggest cotton plantations here in the South with 250 workers. We have the only hunting team here, with modern guns. Some of our workers both work the plantation and hunt too. We hunt Lions, Leopards, Giraffe skins which are very valuable to sell. It helps to keep us in food.� He shrugged. �It is unnecessary to mention the profit that we make. We give back to the community in forms of schools, hospital and we are planning to build the road to Boma. With only five years here we already have a school and a hospital under construction.� Jimbo helped himself to more of the concoction he called coffee. �Do not worry if you need help, we will be able to help. It is difficult to settle and once you settle, because you are white, you will be some kind of king and well respected person. But you need to do the right things, and you need to know what they are so that the villagers do not turn against you.�
�And this help you offer-what do you get from me in return?�

Jimbo only waved him off, although Jean felt himself very smart for once. �Most of the villagers all over Africa know the ten commandments now - killing is bad, robbing�they only kill in self defense and many who used to kill foreigners as meat are learning the true way. How old are you now?�
�I am twenty years old.�
�That is a good age - a pliable age. You will see how you will change, even as you change others. What did you do before you came here?�
Jean thought about this carefully. �I have only a mother left. She cannot work well, and has depended on me.� There - that didn�t feel too much like a lie.
�This is an age where you can start building your future. In just one decade you will have as many as four houses in Europe, along with all the land you will own here. These people,� he waved briefly at Mpuwu and Kinwa, who had finally reappeared, and lowered his voice to Jean, �do not know the value of what you will take from them. That makes it easier. I will personally advise you and encourage you to walk again some fifty miles and you will find a virgin land where whites never been before and you and your two Porters will find a dream land. Your Porters will be your supervisors of your plantations. In this area cotton are growing so well and so does coffee. I think you have the map with you?�
�Yes, I have the map with me. The uh�superior in Boma told me that in the South you may find also some diamonds.�
Again Jimbo waved his hand, as though some things were not worth thinking about. �There may be mineral resources but we are more interested in agriculture and hunting. The biggest mistake many people make is that they want to earn a lot of money right away the first year. That kind of money can disappear just as quickly. Look, you won't wait for long, some plants like coffee and cotton grow like wild plants. First you collect those wild plants. And use them to start your own plantation. We all have houses in our motherlands. Our standing of life here is much better than our colleagues who do not want to make this sacrifice. If my superior tells me to return today I will still be happy because I gained more already that what I could have earned in Europe for the rest of my career.�
Jean frowned. �I don�t understand. When do you preach?�
Jimbo put a hand on his shoulder. �Every day, my son, every day.�
�Well,� Jean stood, and shook his head. �I understand perfectly your advice. I will come for assistance here if this is the last stop of civilization for me.�
�Don�t come only for assistance. You are welcome anytime. In fact, we must have you here to install you, to bless your efforts, and make you one of us. That will be your greatest protection. We may give you, also, ten workers, besides your two men from Boma, and a few plants, and right away you will start your plantations.�
Jean began to get nervous. The priests all eyed him like steak on a plate - not to eat him, not physically but they had something else in mind and he didn�t like it.
�But father, sir, our superior told us to go directly into the virgin lands. They are scared that others nation in Europe will take the land in the interior so we have to claim it first.�
�I know that the government wants us to grab all the land so they may get access to our taxes. We still pay taxes to our government in Belgium. When we send our product the government takes the taxes from Boma.� He laughed but Jean didn�t get the joke. �But you may rest for four days here so we will show you our plantations tomorrow and other things we are doing here.�
Jean didn�t want to but his body did. �That a good idea, we walked for many miles and four days� rest will give us plenty to finish walking on.�
�That is good. Now tell us more what you were doing before you come here.�
Jean blurted, almost without thinking. �I was a student.� Also not a lie, he observed much and learned much in prison.
�When you want to have a land you must get the heart of the local chief first before doing anything else. I know that they told you that it is the first rule to get established. You may give him small thing like mirrors, sweets�and clothes. They are not difficult to have, once you have the king, you have the whole village.�
�I have those small things in my bags.�
�If the king resists, persist. Show him your power. Resistance disappears quickly.�
The priests all went to different rooms before Jean realized that Jimbo knew he was lying about what he did before coming here. What Jean didn�t know was how he knew.
In the morning. Jean, his porters and two priests, Jack and Manny, went to visit the plantations. It was a big farm with many workers who were respecting them more than king. They spent much time observing and taking notes and the four days went quickly.
Then the three men, well rested, and restless, continued with the trip, heading into virgin territory. Jean saw many snakes. They were lucky enough that they met little rain, as it was the beginning of summer. The Porters had also one gun each. Their journey went on for some thirty miles. The more they walked the more people they met wearing tiny pieces of cloths, mixed with animals skin and leaves, and then they found people who were not wearing clothes at all. They heard the sound of birds and dangerous animals and worried about attacks all the time, which perhaps kept them from being attacked. They never saw any of the animals they heard.
On the fourth day after leaving the priests� village, they reached a place undiscovered. A beautiful scene of a village next to two rivers. A dangerous, volatile scene and they halted a moment to glance at each other. Their moment had finally arrived.

CHAPTER 3 (shorter chapters are best)
Children played and the men hunted, some working the plants on small plots. Old and sick laid in the sun, soaking in the healing rays. The temperature almost reached 35c in the middle of the day.
As the three foreigners advanced into the interior of the village, they started hearing some voices of people who saw them come, but with some kind of silence mixed with the playing kid's voice. One kid saw Jean and two blacks wearing clothes, and ran away to his mother cooking at the big commune pot. Kinwa tried to call in soothing tone of voice but the child, helpless in his fear, didn�t stop. The screaming made the rest of the people either run and hide, or slowly, with spears and other weapons, take a defensive posture against the foreigners.
The porters knew the best way to approach the village was to meet the local chief. They had to get permission from the king in order to get the rest of the villagers to allow them to stay. But before they could get close the villagers caused a large distraction, and for that there was no help. They could only hope to be allowed to hold conference with the king.
One woman heard her children screaming and ran to the rescue. She cuddled and comforted them, and asked them their trouble. When they pointed to the strange white, she too screamed. Old people awoke from naps and even the sick arose from their beds to see the commotion. One young man beat a drum to call others in from the farms.
Jean, when he heard this, thought it had the beat of a call to war. He had been told that all beats and sounds had different meanings, like conversations that all could hear at once.
The porters talked rapidly and Jean caught only the gist of their native conversation-he could see they were in trouble. He should have expected this reaction, of course. Kinwa and Mpuwu were supposed to be the reassuring presence but these people weren�t so intimidated as excited.
Kinwa finally leaned to Jean and said, �I have been in many villages but I have never before seen a reaction like this one.�
Mpuwu walked toward a woman who was comforting her children while trying to run away. One child clung to her leg, making escape impossible. As he talked to her she shook her head and appeared not to understand. Kinwa told Mpuwu that they may have been misled here, that these people didn�t speak close enough to what they had been trained.
�We have guns, but I don�t want to use them,� said Kinwa.
�And we won�t unless they force us,� said Mpuwu, with a strong kindness toward this primitive culture.
Jean joined them. �Your guns are loaded, right?�
�No,� said Kinwa. �If we shoot they will have a real need to panic. We must be submissive, let them know we mean no harm. We could never fight all of them, anyway. And we did not come here to fight,� Kinwa reminded Jean. Kinwa, though younger than Mpuwu, had more experience in war, having fought the Belgians in the northern part of the territory. He felt more relaxed toward conversation than Mpuwu but also more able to tell when it was time to fight.
Jean stood close to his two porters, the three forming a triangle facing the villagers who had armed themselves and approached the strangers. �They think nothing of killing us. Look at their spears.�
�Let�s step down. They don't kill if we surrender.� Mpuwu got to his knees.
�No. I won�t put myself at their mercy when they won�t understand a word I say. Look at them. They�d eat us as soon as look at us.�
The villagers had gathered what seemed to be every weapon they possessed, and started toward them.
Mpuwu sighed. �We are dead.�
�We must surrender to them. Take our chances,� Kinwa said, agreeing with Mpuwu.
�I�d rather fight. We die fighting.� Jean clenched his fists, ready for the first to approach him.
�Jean, this is your job, your land, your country. We will do as you ask,� Kinwa nudged Mpuwu and nodded.
Jean felt sure these were the cannibals he was sent to meet. Here was his chance and if he blows this, he has no reason to go back to the old country - no reason to live.
�We will surrender.� Jean felt his breath hot in his dry throat. �Somehow we must talk to them about the true god. Take out the gun.�
�What?�
�The firepower. They�ve probably never seen it before. It�s a trick almost as old as time. We make them think we�re gods.�
As the villagers approached, slowly, ready to kill at the first sign of a threat, the three men slowly got to their knees. Some of the villagers stopped at this strange behavior, as the men, while still arguing with each other, laid themselves down on the ground on their bellies. Mpuwu, the last one to lie down, started yelling in a language as close to theirs as he could get - �No fight! No fight!�
The villagers did not kill them but each one was grabbed by the hair and pulled to his feet. Mpuwu and Kinwa tried talking to them but no one seemed to understand. Perhaps that was only a ruse, to make them believe they could not understand. Maybe the villagers thought to keep the upper hand, but Jean laughed, he couldn�t help it.
They were taken in the local prison, waiting for public judgment. Jean wanted to show them the power in the gun, a stick they let him keep, but not yet. They would wait until the timing was right.

CHAPTER 4
The villagers postponed the judgment to give other neighboring villagers� dignitaries the chance to join in. They called out to their neighbors by the sound of drums, a different tempo used like the sounds of different words, like conversation, Jean thought from inside the well-guarded hut where they were imprisoned.
They were treated quite well, fed some weird but tasty soups, and taken outside to do their business at their first request. The ground wasn�t comfortable to sleep on but Jean had a lot of need for it and found sleep welcoming, without worry that he�d end up in a pot. Once rested, that would change. He didn�t talk much with Kinwa and Mpuwu. Kinwa entertained himself with some songs from what he called his �old country� and Mpuwu spent most of his time staring out the small cubbyhole, observing, he told Jean.
Finally on the third morning of their imprisonment Mpuwu told them quite a crowd had gathered, and sure enough, the guards opened the door and motioned them all outside. They were taken to the public circle, which looked like a sporting ground with few grasses around, guarded by giant warriors carrying traditional such as spears and several things Jean couldn�t identify. Mpuwu told them they often chose the biggest men to act as warriors, relying on physical strength as much as talent to work the weapons.
More than one thousand people were waiting in that ground, Jean thought, if he had been asked to make a quick count. But he could have been wildly off, never having the need to count so many before. Jean found himself stimulated by this experience, maybe the last of his life, and yet he regretted not accepting the proposition of the priest to live with them. He needed his freedom, and he was going to find it - here.
He decided not to give up, but somehow, to find a way out of this. These people needed him-needed his God. This reaction to strangers who only wanted to help showed him how badly he was needed here. Here, if he could be like a god, would be the freedom he sought, to do anything - everything - he�d always wanted.
As they waited to be taken outside, the three planned what they might be able to do to turn their fortunes around. They couldn�t use their guns because the natives had taken everything they had carried with them and had placed these trinkets and rare goods at the feet of a chair where the man would sit that Jean would come to think of as �king.� Jean said one trick he�d heard was of falling into a kind of epileptic fit and then praying using great loud incantations. But the best thing to do was get their guns back, to really show off their power.
�I want to be friends with them,� Jean reminded the other two. �But we need to gain their respect. Just shooting once into the air might do it. Perhaps even shooting someone who-I don�t know, argues or wants to eat us or something.�
�Perhaps there is no reason to panic,� Kinwa asked as a sort of question to Mpuwu, who nodded. �Right now these people are curious about us. We will wait and see where this public judgment leads.�
They stood near the big open circle with people talking and gesturing, planning it seemed, to put them to some sort of test. They were allowed to stand close together, so while the villagers talked around them, Kinwa and Jean could keep talking. Mpuwu stayed silent, listening, trying to figure out what they were up to.
�I won�t panic. I love this village and the way they�ve treated us so far. I see great things can be accomplished here, and I want to make my home here.�
�Jean, I support your idea, we are here to stay. I would like to swim every morning in those rivers. When rivers run clean this is always a good sign of a prosperous community.�
Jean shook his head at this vision-so unlike the country where he came from, where polluted waters were a sign of prosperity. �Do you think that the judgment will take long?�
�I don't think that we will last long with their traditional court. In the traditional court there is no appeal for a man found guilty, no one to speak for you. You only have few words to say on your behalf and if they cannot understand you, you are done.�
�We�ll be judged for a crime we never committed,� Jean said, but when he looked at Mpuwu for reassurance, found none. �What do you think our crime is?�
Kinwa hesitated. �Nothing.�
Mpuwu shook his head. �For surprising and shocking villagers.�
Kinwa sighed. �And for wearing clothes.�
�Yes, definitely for wearing clothes.�
Jean finally nodded. �They never saw a white man or a black man wearing clothes, hidden here in the big trees of Africa.� Jean felt the bits of wrapped taffy in his pocket and pulled a piece out. He held one out to the nearest native, but she ignored him, quite easily pretending he did not exist. Other tricks, if he could get the people interested, were in those bags at the feet of the king�s seat-mirrors and matches.
�Once even Boma was uncivilized. Our parents told us how it was a scandal to see a white man with his clothes and strange ways, his books and pencils. They only need time.�
�And our power,� Jean added.
Finally the activity around them ceased and everyone faced the largest hut, quiet and respectful. Jean tensed, nervous as always about a new situation, but ready to respond in any way he could to gain their trust.
After a moment the dignitaries entered the public circle with their bodyguards. Then came the village chief, the king, surrounded by ten of his own guards. Everyone called him Mfumu. As he appeared they all chanted his name. Mfumu meant the supreme man. Everybody stood up in sign of respect when he arrived to take his seat in the chair. He sat carefully and stared down at all the goods taken from the strangers, before looking up at the strangers. His eyes settled on Jean�s face after glancing at the other two. He waved a hand and four big guards took the arms of the strangers. Jean and his porters did not struggle but allowed themselves to be taken to Mfumu.
Those that hadn�t yet seen these three men let out a gasp, and then all began chanting. But even with the chanting Jean could hear them talk among themselves. Though he couldn�t understand them, he could almost imagine what they were saying.
�They are wearing clothes.�
�Clothes.�
�From another world.�
�Yes, they deserve to be killed and eaten for wearing clothes different to us.�
�No pity, for the invaders they come to test our warriors� capability to fight and respond.�
�They will see fire today.�
�They will get what they deserved. What they came for. What all get when they intrude into a world that is not theirs. Death.�
The village choral, a gaily decorated group, sang some song in their dialect, some song saying, as Mpuwu whispered to them:
Mfumu (the king) was chosen by God
and ancestors and will reign for ever�
The one who touches Mfumu is in fire�
Let kill the bad man and invaders�
Let eat they bodies like birds
It been a long time we had taste a foreigner's meat.
Since we could absorb their power for ours.
Let shared the human's meat�
Let�s cook them, the pots are tired
of cooking chicken and springboks�Today is the big day.
Mfumu had the decision to make, whether to take the judge�s role. This day, he felt young and filled with the heat of the sun. So he accepted the role that often will be given to a younger man or woman instead, that of leading those gathered here in song. Then the drummers followed by a series of beatings with different sounds.
Mfumu then led the prayers to the ancestors, with hand gestures that indicated that the ancestors lived in the underground with the creator beings. �Mzambi god of our ancestors, we bless you for the breath that you give us�We bless you for the victory that you give us�We have with us some very strange people. We don�t know where they are from and we don�t know what they need and want here�today the sun gives us the wisdom to judge those people and give them the punishment they deserve�Thank you gods of the god for all your doings��
Jean noticed that the king, unlike the villagers, wore a long hat and lion's skin. The dignitaries wore leopard skin. The ordinary people were not allowed to wear these skins, making the skins valuable. The village commoners wore sheep, goat, cow or other common skin. Some wore antelope, making them look a little less common. He didn�t worry that he might get them mixed up, and memorized all the details he could.
After the prayer the chorus followed with a short song. During this song the three strangers were led to a dirt mound, like a platform with five steps that they had to climb to the top where they were told to sit. Here they could be easily seen by everyone. With some waving and chanting, the chief climbed the platform and sat next to them. Kinwa tried to translate where he could but he struggled to follow everything.
The king started by asking some identity questions. �Who are you?�
�I am Mpuwu from Boma.�
�I am Kinwa From Boma.�
�I am Jean from Belgium and Boma.�
�Why do you look so strange and have a strange accent?� asked Mfumu.
The three exchanged glances, and Kinwa took a breath before speaking. �We are from Boma, a village many days� walk from here, but still as part of this big land. We are like your brothers�Jean is our white boss.�
�Where does one get such pale skin? This one must be a mutant, an albino. Does he have blue eyes? Or red eyes?�
�Let me tell you that there are white people in other countries, big countries, big lands, with more warriors than you have, and now they are coming here to be our friends and brothers.�
�Shut up! I am the Mfumu supreme chief. Only answer what I ask. I am responsible of your life or death.�
�Yes Mfumu.�
�Do you understand?� He waved at all three of them, waiting for an answer.
�Yes Mfumu,� they all mumbled together.
�Speak too much and you will be executed on the spot. We do not take chances. No one takes chances with Mfumu.� He could feel his heat with them and heat always made him feel like growling.
�Yes Mfumu.�
�Who sent you here and what do you want to do?�
�We come to give you some gifts. No one sent us.�
�What, a lie? Tell us the truth, the reason behind your invasion?�
�Mfumu, we were sent by the chief in Boma to come and give you some gifts.�
�So now you admit you lied. I can not trust anything you say now. This means you came only to invade us, to steal our breath and our unborn children.�
�Mfumu, how can three people steal anything from a village of thousand of lives?�
�You look like invaders. You talk like invaders. You smell like death coming.�
�We asked many to find you, so that we may give you the gifts.�
Mfumu stood and aimed a finger at Kinwa. �You came to kill me to make all these people follow you!�
Jean felt for the gun at his side but it was gone. �We mean you no harm. We come to teach you the right way, the way of the world. Your people will never go hungry, you will never want for anything. You will no longer lose your babies with our new medicines��
�You want to poison me or kill me with your magic.�
�We don�t have any poison. You may check our bags.�
Mfumu turned to look at the bags and waved his hand. The bags were emptied out on the ground. Jean winced as men unused to such treasures began to paw through them.
�Please�we must show you how these things work. These are gifts�for your people��
�I cannot take gifts from such strange people.�
One of the dignitaries leaned over Mfumu and said, �Mfumu, I heard by some people that their villages are better now for the strangers who bore them gifts---.�
�You heard my words! In this world there are only the brown-skinned as we. And I never take gifts of strangers. When they come to our land we give the gifts, so they know that we are the people with the resources to survive, not them.�
�What I am telling you is true, Mfumu."
�I am telling you to listen to me!� He returned to the invaders. �You have terrorized my village and my people and the final verdict for you is death. We will eat parts of you so that you cannot return to us again and so we can absorb your power properly. Now we must only decide, do we burn you alive or kill you first? Sometimes the meat tastes fresher if we do not kill you first.�
�Your Honorable Mfumu, give us a chance to show you something,� pleaded Kinwa.
�I can honor this request. What can you show, stranger?�
Kinwa pointed at an object on the ground and it was, with the king�s nod, brought to him. Jean felt better-what he gave the king was a mirror. The chief saw his image reflected as though Kinwa handed him a clear pool of water, and called some dignitaries over.
�What �come and see.� He blinked hard and looked closer, reaching out as though to touch but drawing back.
The other dignitaries looked, and they too were amazed to see themselves and each other in the mirror.
Finally the king Mfumu gathered his courage to look into it again, to study his face, as his people watched. He hefted its light and solid weight in his hand, expression of amazement not abating. �You must be a king, a great leader, a magic man, to do this, to freeze the pond and carry it with you. Can you also thaw this to drink when you are dry?�
�Not water, Mfumu,� Mpuwu replied. �That is magic stone. That magic stone was given us so that no one could harm us. If you try to kill us our powerful ancestors will come out of that magic stone like the women of the underworld come out of the water, and they will revenge our death.�
The king felt its smooth surface, deliberating this new threat. �Then we will not eat you. That will appease your ancestors. But you still must die. We will burn you in public, and your magic stone with you. Your skin will probably poison us anyway.�
While Mpuwu had them occupied with the mirror, Kinwa gestured to the people standing around the emptied goods on the ground to start things and hand them out to each other. He saw one holding up a pair of shorts and motioned how to put them on. Jean watched his workers do their best to save them but with a degree of sadness. The gun was there on the ground, and he whispered to Kinwa to have it brought to him. The villagers didn�t know how they used their guns, so perhaps he could give it to the king-get the king to shoot himself�
Mfumu grew angry as he saw one of the villagers trying to put on shorts. He stood with the mirror high over his head. �I do not believe a stranger�s magic could work in a foreign land. If there are ancestors in this mirror, let them come out now and face me!�
He threw the mirror against a rock and it shattered. When several of the villagers picked up the pieces and saw their faces they at first panicked because they thought the ancestors of Kinwu and Mpuwu were emerging, but then they recognized their own faces and began to laugh. More villagers grabbed pieces but some were stabbed by the shards and began to bleed.
�That�s it,� said Kinwa, �The ancestors are angry now and they are demanding your blood.�
One of the dignitaries asked permission to speak. �We don�t have to kill them. They may serve a purpose. Let us see if their magic can work in our land. We will become more powerful to our enemies. We can always kill them later, should their magic ever fail.�
�I want to kill them one by one and see those vengeful ancestors emerge from those magic stones that bite.�
�Please, listen to him,� another dignitary said as he stepped forward.
�I told you to listen to me. You can be burned alive as well. You for your arguing manner we will eat.�
�But we don�t have to kill them today. Tonight we can go and pray all night long to avoid revenge from their ancestors.�
While they were holding their discussion, Jean pulled Mpuwu and Kinwa close. �They�re looking at our guns-tell one of them to pull a trigger.�
Kinwa nodded. �Then the villagers will panic and we can get away to the priest�s station following that foot road we came on.�
Mpuwu put on a hand on their shoulders to calm them down. �We wait. I can tell he is getting confused. He has to show a brave front to his people but he is scared of us.� Just when everybody waited for the chief supreme to take the final decision. Mpuwu surprised everybody including Jean and Kinwa. He stepped up to the king. �Let me tell you something. My mother is from this village.� Kinwa grabbed his arm but Mpuwu pulled away again, ignoring him. �I am your first cousin. Her name was Intin!a. Then they called her Sepela Tongo.�
That got their attention. One old woman walked forward. �She was my daughter. And you are her son?� She turned to the crowd. �She was taken away when just a little girl to wed a village leader many steps away. This one speaks with their tongue!�
Everybody screamed, someone grabbed the old lady and called her a liar, and many talked loud and quickly as they didn�t know what to do. Kinwa tried to get Mpuwu to tell him if this was the truth but Mpuwu would not respond.
Finally Mfumu screamed to overcome the noise. �ENOUGH! This trial is over. We will kill them tomorrow by burning. We will pray tonight that our gods bless this act and see our wisdom, and in this way protect us from their vengeful ancestors. We will wear our protection as well during the burning.�
The chorus sang the closing ceremony songs and the holy man closed the ceremony with a prayer. The villagers felt safe and reassured with their king�s strength and good words, so the ceremony continued with dancing and singing for another hour. They sang their execution song because most of the villagers agreed with the chief.
Some of them talked during the ceremony:
�The chief is always right and we will kill them.�
�But he didn't mention whether they will be eaten or not?�
�It is not good to waste the human's meat. It is a very expensive and rare meat.�
�Foreigners don't often get lost and end up in our land, and their power is healthy for our people.�
The people knew from their ancestors, from stories handed down, that enemies needed to be punished for being enemies. The best way to do that was to burn or cook them, and eat their best parts to absorb their power and prevent them from returning to take revenge on their children. They believed that if an enemy was killed and buried he could arise and defeat them, at some time, maybe tomorrow, maybe many tomorrows later. They had heard tales of complete villages being destroyed this way. The main reason of eating human flesh was to absorb the enemy�s power, to give them new strength, both physically and spiritually, for it was also thought that if one ate just the right piece, that person�s spirit was also absorbed. For this reason they called themselves the Lion's race. The Lion dominates and terrifies all the animals in the land. This was how they wanted other humans to feel about them, so that their village will never be destroyed, and their children will be safe.
�It is not necessary for us to demand that we eat them, anyway, because only the dignitaries will taste the flavor of their meat, not we simple villagers.�
�That one brown-skin with the white looks tasty. He has a big body that body must have a lot of Mafuta [fat].�
�If I was a dignitary I could have a taste of the bum meat of the other one.�
�The one who is white is skinny but it is kind of good meat to fry with few oil.�
�The mafuta man do not need to be cooked with a lot of oil. He has plenty of fat in his body.�
Fortunately for Jean and his porters, they had been taken back to jail and so did not get the chance to guess what they were saying. But they would have seen them salivate as they stared, and that would have made them nervous enough.
CHAPTER 5:
The following day at the execution's ground the people who had first agreed with the decision of the chief began to argue in many directions. Some said that they have yet to do anything wrong, and they would like to witness the kind of wrong they could do. Some even thought that they could bring blessings to the village. Even some of the warriors wondered to themselves if violence against every stranger was the best medicine for their people. They made sure no medicine priest could hear these thoughts.
One group of warriors began to fight with another group. All agreed that if they were to be killed they would be eaten in order to absorb their power. But just what was that power?
Wuku became the main debater for the one group, while Pilosu took ground on the more violent side.
Wuku said, �What have we to kill them over?�
�They invaded our territory.�
�How can they invade the many peoples of us when they are only three?�
�They are foreigner and foreigners are invaders. If we allow them in, more will follow.�
�They didn�t kill anyone, they haven�t struck out at us, and indeed, they have humbled themselves on the ground to us.�
�They come wearing different clothes to us�they wish to change us, make us who we are not! You know the legends, the ones that speak of foreigners with their strange ways coming to destroy us. This is why we have always killed!� Pilosu gained a number of yeahs from his group at this, and nodded in satisfaction.
�Have you seen the moon? Do you know how many moons now since these legends were created? Perhaps the legends were wrong, or were meant for a long ago time. I think they�re gifts are peaceful. I think we keep them alive so we can see what kind of power they have. If they bring more, then we kill. We are strong enough.� He got the yeahs from his group.
The King, Mfumu, came among them during this argument. He had been walking among his people, listening to their words not meant for him. This is how he learns the truth of their feelings. He had ordered the foreigners to be burned, but only in hearing how his people felt after his proclamation could he decide whether he had chosen the right course.
Everyone knew the King had the right to change his mind, because he could feel the reasons for the winds to change.
Mfumu finally heard enough and walked into their midst. �You fear their power? You fear eating them because you don�t know what their power is?� He called for one of the priests to join them. �Tell them, mighty Snu, if there is any power we could absorb that would harm us.�
Snu, who wore the least clothing of any of the natives to absorb all the power Nature provides in the air, stood by the King. �There are powers of air, of water, of soil, and of fire. There are powers from below and above. There are powers from the sunrise and the sunset. But there are also powers that we do not yet know. There are powers of people we do not yet know. Can we say all powers are good if we do not know what they are? We have seen our people come back from the dead and be changed, turn crazy, and we have had to destroy them. We have seen the madness in children when they have absorbed too much water power. We have witness woman�s madness when she forces a child to leave her body. Can we say all power is good?�
Mfumu looked at his warriors, those who had sided with his decision looking a little afraid. He nodded. �We will let them live until the next full moon and we will observe their actions daily, especially the white one. Then we will give them another trial to decide if they have earned the right to live as one of us, or die and give us their power.�
###
Jean stood by the single window in the prison and stared out into the rising sun. Behind him Kinwa and Mpuwu sang a soft native lullaby, a chorus of two voices in different pitches that complimented each other so well. Jean could almost feel himself relaxing. After finding out that Mpuwu was related to one of the villagers, he thought their lives would be spared. That Mfumu was a tough cookie, all right. Perhaps the old woman is right now pleading with the king to spare them. But it seemed obvious to him that once someone moves away, they are no longer considered family.
He knew the sentence-they were to be burned and eaten this morning. But he felt strangely calm about it, as though God had entered his head and told him not to worry. And it did not appear that any ceremony was taking place out there, no preparation being made for any kind of big feast.
The singing behind him stopped but Jean didn�t turn. He was cold, but didn�t feel like moving. The day would warm up nicely enough, but the cell was cold at night and they furnished them with no coverings at all.
�They will like your meat best,� Kinwa said Mpuwu.
Jean turned in time to see Kinwa poke the elder�s gut.
�You should not eat so much boar meat.�
�I hear they like their meat tougher-like yours,� Mpuwu retorted.
Jean didn�t quite understand the native sense of humor. He looked back out the window and saw some commotion. �Hey, Mpuwu, come here.� He made room for the big native at the window. �What are they doing?�
Mfumu had come out with several women following him, and every few steps he stopped to allow another of them to place another colored mark on his chest.
�Those are his wives, and they are putting protection on him from potential evil spirits.�
�Us? I wish.�
Kinwa immediately jumped up beside Jean. �Do not tempt the evil spirits. You do not know what they�re capable of.�
�Wait a minute,� Jean felt surrounded by enemies on all sides. �Aren�t the two of you Christians? Didn�t you swear to love and honor the one true God and help to spread his word here? You can�t believe in their mumbo-jumbo anymore. Sure, there are evil spirits, but when one has accepted the true God we don�t need to worry about what we say or putting fancy colored designs on our chests.� He felt his fists clench. He wanted to get out there and take them all by the throat and point their eyes upward until forced to see the true God.
Mpuwu told him to shut up but didn�t need to-several of the dignitaries and their wives joined Mfumu in a circle, and they were likewise painted. Jean could tell the discussion was heated but none of the three of them could make out any of the words.
They were sure, however, that their lives were at stake in the discussions.
###
Mfumu told all of his inner council of Balombi his new decision. He listened to their advice as to how to tell the people that he changed his mind. He had the right, same as the wind, but rarely exercised it, so the people would need to be told first the myth of the King and the Wind, so they would remember. The youngest of the men, Sulu, had never before seen Mfumu change his mind, so he spoke what was perhaps on everyone�s mind.
�Chief, this will be a really disgrace to your high authority .The king is always right and the king never changes his decision.�
�If the priests say that I am the wind, then I can change.�
�But not too often.�
�I have not changed in some time.�
�They remember the change more than they remember what you changed about. You must be sure.�
�I say find a suitable excuse to give to thousand of people who will come to witness the execution tomorrow that will not take place.�
�I am so disappointed. I have been saving my appetite.�
�You do not need us to give you a reason, Mfumu,� one of the dignitaries spoke out. �You only need to tell the people the reason you changed your mind. That is all they need.�
�But a chief is never wrong,� another reminded him.
�I am not wrong now,� Mfumu said angrily. �I have had a night to feel the wind move in a different direction, that is all. Perhaps, Snu, you could tell the people the story again, to remind them why a king changes his mind.�
�Why did you change your mind?�
�Snu reminded me that not all power we absorb is good. We do not know their power. The one in the light skin seems especially dangerous. The other, related to our tribe, he gives us a special reason to let them live a week, to see what they will do. So you see, I have not changed my mind, but I have stopped the wind from blowing their destruction.�
�You may say that the ancestors, through Snu, have recommended you to stop the execution.�
�You have said what I wanted to hear, the ancestors. Yes, it is only ancestors who are superior to us because they are our gods�Yes, the gods have refused the execution. Now I can sleep in peace because I have the answer that will make all the people accept the change. They will be disappointed that we will not have the feast, but this answer will soothe them.�
He started to leave the group but one of the dignitaries stopped him. �Wait! We must go ahead with the execution. Then you will receive the ancestor�s message while they are cooking and stop the ceremony. That is the only way.�
The king, after a moment�s hesitation, nodded. As his tummy growled he realized he was not at all happy to stop the execution himself. Perhaps he will find the wind changing direction again.
###
The next morning the three men were fed the customary special meal that would make their meat especially savory. As they ate - Jean found he was famished - the choir arrived singing songs that were like syllables in high pitched notes. They were wearing many clothes, and in fact, all the people that arrived were either highly dressed or highly painted, and Kinwa said that was for protection. As they sang, more and more people showed up, until Jean couldn�t see the world for the people.
Mpuwu translated the songs: "The pots are ready for the special meal�We will execute the invaders with fire and knife�There is no tomorrow today in the celebration day�Thank you ancestors for this big victory and meat�We will eat the meat, birds and dogs will pick the bones�"
Jean pushed his plate away, feeling suddenly ill. As he had relished this food, soon they will relish him. �God, do not remove my serenity now. Allow me think, and somehow, stop them from this heinous sin. Amen.�
Behind him Kinwa and Mpuwu muttered, �Amen.�
The warriors took their traditional weapons out into the fields to surround the village, as they never knew if the strangers had more people coming to try and rescue them at the last minute. The dignitary wives brought the big pots, three large fires were built for the pots, one for each, and the three men, at spear point, were forced to climb in.
�Do not struggle,� Mpuwu warned. �They will only cut you bad enough to hurt more while you cook. They know how.�
�For a while it�ll just feel like a warm bath,� Kinwa whispered to Jean.
�How do you know? Have you been eaten before?�
But they had animal skins shoved into their mouths so they couldn�t speak any more, and their hands tied behind their backs. They had to use small ladder type appliances to get into the pots, and then these were removed.
Once they were in the pots, the throne to be brought in. Once this was placed, the dignitaries entered the field followed by Mfumu. He wore his traditional execution clothes, a leopard vest and a long trailing leopard hat made of its tail. When he entered everybody stood.
Snu had been chosen to lead everyone in the customary ceremonial prayer. �Mzambi of our ancestor and Mazambi of Mfumu, we thank you again for bringing us to this place.�
Jean remembered the word Mzambi - it was the word that meant �God� in their language. It was the only native word he remembered from his training because that was the one word he planned to erase from their memory. He had been pushed into a sitting position, and though it was a struggle, he stood again.
The people watched him rise up and some gasped.
Snu did not notice. �We thank for talking to us to dreams. We thank you for giving us this victory, we are not slave of any tribes but we are dominators. We are not the last but we are the first. Mzambi who gave us this land, this land of ancestors, we thank you again for giving us the dignitaries from other village who come to help us to solve this problem. Lead us in our celebration of death today�Thank you Mzambi of our ancestors, Mzambi of Mfumu, Thank you Mzambi��
Before Snu could finish Jean was forced to sit in the cold pot again.
The choir followed with a short song before Snu stepped down and Mfumu stood.
�I thank you Mzambi and ancestors for giving us the light in this new day. We will now enjoy a great feast and absorb the strangers� powers.�
At his nod the fires were lit under the pots.
Jean watched the flames licking up around the pot, made out of simple wood but coated with something so strong the flames could not eat through. He thought, perhaps, if he prayed hard enough, his God would make the flames hot enough to spring a leak in the wood and the water would then put out the flames. And as he prayed to his God and Mfumu continued to speak to Mzambi, their ancestor gods, he could feel the water getting hotter-soon his skin would turn red and then what? Would he pass out and never feel the rest of it? He prayed for that, too. He struggled to get to his feet again, and finally did, and as he did, the strangeness began.
Snu, the priest, suddenly fell to the ground in contortions. The people, by their reactions, did not expect this, nor did Mfumu, who fell to the ground himself in contortions. Jean stood, his feet starting to burn, watching, thinking epilepsy. He wanted to jump out of the pot as the people were distracted but that would mean a leap into the flames. Still, his body was wet�Jean dived down into the hot water, leaped up and threw himself out of the pot. He hit the flames and rolled, felt himself singeing but kept rolling into the dirt, ending up near the epileptic rulers. Some of the people screamed, several with children ran away. The dignitaries kept everyone away, saying that it was the ancestors, trying to speak to them.
Finally Snu got to his feet, as Mfumu lay exhausted on the ground. Snu saw Jean smoking at his feet and pointed down.
�We cannot kill them. Their power must be taken while yet alive. They have a strange kind of power that cannot be absorbed while eaten. We have spoken.� And Snu fell to the ground again, unconscious.
Mfumu got to his feet. �Your king was not wrong in condemning them. But only give them a week to give up their power to you, and then they can be safely eaten. It was not their time yet. We have spoken.� And the king fell to the ground, unconscious.
Not a sound was uttered, not a word spoken. No one could quite understand what had just happened, as it had never happened before. Finally one of the dignitaries stepped forward picked Jean up, Jean who could barely speak, barely think, being watched by a reddened Mpuwu and Kinwa.
�The ancestors have spoken. Due to lack of proof of misconduct by these invaders�we have decide in the spirit of Ubuntu who watches over all human beings to turn the execution today into a celebration of new power in our midst.�
After those words came a strong silence, and then the drummer informed the entire village by the tunes and the rhythm of a special of the beat the final decisions. The fires were doused and the two porters, with reddened skin and light-headed, were helped out of their pots.
Jean was taken to a special place to be bathed and comforted, given his honor due to his strength, the strength to leave the pot. Many said his pulled his strength from Mfumu and Snu but others thought his strength came from his whiteness, and all were glad to get the chance to find out. Later that day he was allowed to join in the dancing, while Kinwa and Mpuwu only watched from their prison. Jean found his legs didn�t work too well but he was too excited to care and when forced to join the dancing, found himself with great joy trying to imitate their enthusiastic steps.
Then the drumming began, which Jean knew was their way of communication, like we use newspapers and telegraphs. The drums were made so that they could be heard many miles away, and only natives could understand what was being said. Their drum beats could travel nearly as far as our newspapers, too - sometimes, when the wind was right, as far as 200 miles.
One drummer at the village could send a message to the next village, usually about 100 miles, and to be sure the message kept traveling would beat the message there to the next one, and on and on, until the message reach the final destination, which could be even a thousand miles away, depending on the message. But it could take many hours. As Jean listened, he thought that this was much like when newspapermen had to get their messages by telegraph. Only certain people know how to decipher telegraph code, just as here, probably, only a few villagers could interpret correctly the rhythm of the beat, including understand a particular tone, and speed and the spacing between the beats.
They dressed the newcomers in traditional robes. Kinwa and Mpuwu gave Jean very thankful expressions but they did not exchange any words when first they were together again after escaping the pot. Jean noticed with a smile that several children had gotten in the pots and were splashing around, and their mothers gave them baths so that the water did not go to waste. Each foreigner was given an animal skin to wear on his head and then they were seated on the ground.
Snu had regained consciousness and stood in front of them. �Now you will be given our traditional rules of life, and if you forget even one, you will not last the week of life you are given. Pay attention, for you will be asked to repeat these.�
The earth is our mother, care for her.
Honor all your relations as they honor you.
Open your heart and soul to the great Mzambi.
All life is sacred: treat all beings with respect.
Take from the earth what is needed, and nothing more.
Do what needs to be done for the good of all.
Give constant thanks to Mzambi for each new day.
Speak the truth, but only of the good in others.
Follow the rhythms of nature: rise and retire with the sun.
Punish, eat all the enemies so their spirits cannot revenge them.
Jean felt himself suddenly struck in the heart as he listened. He had been told that the first thing the natives needed was to learn the 10 commandments. Here, he was treated to their version of the moral and right way to live. They were misguided, surely, by their care of nature rather than of their souls, but still, this was a religion, something to believe in.
After he finished Snu sank his head low as the choir behind him began to sing.
�Welcome, welcome in Kabinde, land of ancestors. We are happy and blessed to have you for the week of life the ancestors demand. Thank you for coming to visit us in the spirit of Ubuntu so we can learn your nature and your power. We will share all little food we have with you. We will dance and sing for this great day.�
Many of the villagers were happy to be dancing and singing, while others rushed about, killing sheep and chickens as new food would be needed. New pots were brought out, pots that were used for dead and cut-up animal meats. They fed their guests their traditional liquor, a drink that Jean thought similar to beer, was made of the maize mix with indigenous plants, first made generations ago. Only men and old women were allowed to drink. Young women who mostly cooked the traditional beer could not drink it, and would be eaten if caught sneaking a sip. Only wise people were allowed to drink. Only women who could no longer have children were considered wise.
Not all villagers were happy with this new decision. One, formerly a man of great influence who could no longer be a dignitary because he�d killed a lion, found others to agree with him. �I do not believe the ancestors spoke today.�
�What are you saying, Timbo?�
�What have happen to the chief today?�
�Mfumu did not regain consciousness like Snu and had to be taken by his wives back to his hut.�
One shrugged. �The ancestors are superior to us and they have decided to give those invaders another week of life. We can wait a week to eat.�
�They only pretended to hear the voices of the ancestors. Mfumu is weak. He is bought by their gifts.�
Slowly these words sent a panic wave throughout the crowd trying to party, for many had their doubts and were disappointed at the lack of good feasting. �I was in the bush when I heard the panic's drum sound telling us to return to the village as soon as possible,� said one warrior. �I at first feared that the foreigners were killing the people.�
Some tried to quell the panic. �The blood of innocent bring misery to the perpetrator. I won't accept any bad luck from the wrong-filled eating of innocent invaders. Like in the past.�
�They are the enemy because they try to kill our traditions bringing in those gifts, goods we have never had and so we never need.�
HOW TO INTRODUCE WAR IS COMING???
The villagers who were still celebrating cooked white chicken for the invaders symbolic of their escaping death. They also cooked white chicken for anyone involved in a deadly accident or who had recovered from a very serious illness or disease.
The free men, as soon as they were dried off and garmented and could stop dancing, hugged each other, ignorant of those talking against them.
�Jean, we are free now.�
�Finally, I am truly free after suffering in the bushes and long walking! Now we can celebrate.�
Kinwa nodded, laughing. �Yes, justice is the winner. We were innocent and we deserve to be freed.�
Mpuwu did not share their joy of their future, only of their moment. �Remember, we have only a week�s reprieve. We will have to earn the right to live longer. Jean, you will do more of your magic, perhaps. Talk of your God, and do so quickly. Tell them eating other humans is wrong.�
Jean nodded. He only had to figure out how to begin. He knew their commandments, and as soon as he had the chance, would write them out next to his.
One hour after the court verdict, the women who cooked white chickens brought the meat accompanied by their favorite food, pap. Pap, cooked on base of maize powder meal, was served in a big plate and the chicken in another plate.
Four dignitaries joined the free men to socialize with them for the meal. Sulu was one of them, and he spoke first. �You are very lucky the king did not have to change his decision but the ancestors did. Sometime he kills innocent just to show how tough he is. The king is allowed to change his mind but he has to have a very good reason. This time the ancestors gave it to him.�
Another dignitary spoke up. �And you made them see your magic when you got out of the pot. No one has ever done that before. That might earn you a special place by the king. We will know more when he finally awakens.�
�We knew that we did not deserve to die, but the way we were released was a bit of a surprise.�
Sulu looked surprised. �Do you never listen to your ancestors?�
Jean laughed, but Kinwa nudged him to be quiet. �Well, if they did, we would call them ghosts and ignore them.� When he saw the unhappy expressions of the natives, he cleared his throat, wondering if Mpuwu was interpreting his words correctly. �I have never seen the kind of seizures�uh, fits, take over men like that. And then I, too, had a fit which took me out of the pot. As you saw.�
�It is true that you seem to have a similar power. Perhaps you would taste very good, after all.�
In silence, they ate the white chicken as a sign of escaping death. Finally Sulu sighed. �We don't eat white chicken often. They are rare and are kept for the sick people after their total recovery or someone who was involved in an accident, such as falling off a cliff or being mauled by a lion. We also cook this chicken for those who were bitten by dangerous snake like cobra. It means a lot to us to eat white chicken. This means that the chief has forgiven you. You may join the community and meet him when he will be disposed to meet you. Only remember, you have life given for a week only. You face another trial after six moons have passed.�
Conversations came to a rolling halt as the men all began to watch Jean trying to eat his pap. He couldn't hold it like the African. One dignitary nudged Mpuwu and asked that he not interpret the following.
�Look how white-skin is holding pap.�
�I do not think he�s had it before. He is new to this land, unlike I and Kinwa.�
�What does he usually eat?�
�Mostly rice and another food that you don't know called bread.
�Bread?�
�It is a food eaten by mostly European.�
�What does it look like?�
Kinwa shrugged. �It looks like some kind of cooked cassava with special spices.�
�Did you bring us some as a gift?�
�No, but we can get some for you.�
Jean finally asked what they were talking about. When Mpuwu told him about bread, he laughed. �I should have thought to bring some. Maybe the priests will spare some for us.�
�Please bring it. We want to taste that food. But I will never sleep without adding pap on top of my daily meal.�
Kinwa intervened: �We are used to Jean regime's. We eat rice and sleep without worrying about pap.� He turned to Jean. �Did you enjoy the food?�
Jean grinned, pap hanging on his lips. �I never enjoyed eating so much in my whole life.�
Kinwa took his eating tool, a sort of knife with tins. �Let me help you learn to eat this. Hold it loosely, don�t fight it so much.�
As Jean accepted his eating lesson he looked into the faces of the dignitaries. How much he will enjoy teaching them about God, but it will have to be quickly, if he wanted to live past a week.

CHAPTER 6
For the next two days Jean found himself the object of great curiosity. He spent the time getting to know the people, only casually, learning what they would teach him about their customs, using his aids to interpret where they could. Even they were at a loss over some of the odd mannerisms they encountered. But all the villagers were ready to welcome Jean into their circle because they were curious about him.
If he could understand them, he would have learned more - if his aids understood them, they weren�t about to interpret everything. He feared by the time he learned their language, he�d lose any chance to teach them about God because he�d no longer seem special to them. Why did they send him here with such disadvantages?
�I don�t think he is an albino, after all.�
�But how does he get white skin?�
�Perhaps so sickly as a child that his skin faded from being under a roof?�
�Different, from a different world, that is all. Our legends tell us there are many worlds beyond ours, all dangerous. This is why we do not wander.�
�Perhaps he is an albino but just a clean one. We only know one other albino, and he is not clean because he tries to look more like us, since the day we discover he has no magic.�
�My nephew is an albino and he is always very clean. His mother bathes him every day but he does not look like this.�
In this group of villagers the four looked at the speaker with amazement. �Where is your nephew?�
�Oh, he is two villages away. His mother will not take him anywhere for fear of spoiling his magic.�
�What does he do?�
The man looked down. �I cannot say - even she is not sure.�
�I have traveled many villages but I never seen this kind of skin before. Has anyone ever eaten anything like this?�
They all mumbled and shook their heads as they looked at their feet.
After a pause one looked up. �He is a ghost.�
�Ghost?�
�Yes, a ghost of the dead who lost his way home and now is forced to live like a human being.�
�Hey, you could be right! He looks like Tumba, my brother who died 10 years ago. I think he came to visit us.�
This made all five of them turn with new eyes to stare at Jean. One made a screeching noise that made Jean, who was tending the pot over the fire, look over at them. �He does look like Tumba - eyes, small voice, the way he twists his neck�Every thing is like Tumba.�
�Maybe we remember Tumba wrong.�
�Why does he speaks a different language and need the two Africans to translate?�
�He talks the language of dead, you have to have a special magic stuff to listen and interpret the language.� And the men nodded and agreed, and made room for two of the women to join them. They pointed to Jean and caught them up on their conversation. They were two of the wives and not considered outcasts to men�s conversations.
�Are the translators ghosts, too?�
�They could be like the boatmen from the legend, and have gotten lost along the way.�
�No, I think they are like us but from a different village. The ghost has chains on them - but chains we cannot see.�
�This is becoming a frightening manner. For what reason would Tumba return from the land of the dead to see us?�
�If he is a ghost that means we cannot eat him even when we want to.�
�That would explain why he could tumble out of the pot and not burn!�
�We are not wise in these matters. Let us talk to those who can be sure of these things.�
�Without any help we will remain ignorant of the truth.�
�I take the responsibility to call the wise men. We will see if they think he is a ghost. Don�t anyone talk to him until we find out.�
One of the men in the group went to call the two wise men in the village. They were both elders in their early sixties, so respected that even the chief consulted them on a regular basis for advice. One was recognized for his ability to accurately translate dreams and another for his ability to figure out anyone�s ailment so that the doctor could heal them. Even a water epidemic fifteen years earlier that hit the village didn�t slow him down. They were both very vigorous for their age.
By this time Jean had been taken out to look for lions so the men felt they could talk freely.
One of the villagers said, �I am very happy, doctors, that you came to our rescue. I thank you for taking the time to talk with us. We are having a discussion that makes us very nervous. These new people, they are of great concern to all of us.� The two elders nodded, listening carefully. Two are dark like us but dress oddly, and the other is pale, like an albino but not an albino, and he talks in a very strange tongue. Some say he is a ghost who lost the cemetery address, some say it is an anomaly from her mother during the pregnancy. So now we ask you, the most clever men in our land, to clarify this subject.�
One of the wise man coughed before talking. Everyone grew quiet when they all wanted to talk at once. The Great Dream Man coughed again, clearing his throat. �Everything have a reason for being, everything have a start and an end. Those three invaders have a reason for being here. They have a start where they are from and an end where they will be going. The three people are wearing different clothing than us. That it because all of them are from the same world, though a different world than ours. Remember all the foreigners who came cannot speak the same language to us and they wear different animal skin and leaves. Those two invaders are brown-skinned, they speak the same dialect as us but also their accent is different to us, with some words that we don�t know or understand. It is because they are from a far village. But the pale invader speaks a language that only his two friends understand, and the same time he looks different to us. He looks like an albino but is not albino. He has a hard skin like we but that skin is different to us. The albinos don�t have the top skin, which is why they always have wounds on their bodies. There are three skins on our bodies. We all see this when we have our ritual sacrifice of the enemy. The blacks have all three skins while the albino has two skins only. The two skins do not protect effectively the albino to sun and other diseases of skin. This is why they stay out of the sun. We see our new Jean does not say out of the sun. So he must also have three skins.�
�We could make him a ritual sacrifice and see his layers of skin.�
The other elder took over from the first. �We do not take our ritual sacrifice just for fun, or lightly. There must always be a reason, such as to keep the animals coming or to keep the crops growing, or to bring the rain. Sometimes we do sacrifice because there are too many people and not enough animals. Not just for fun, to see a man�s skin.�
The one who proposed the idea looked down at his feet.
Another quickly spoke up. �We think perhaps he is a ghost.�

�A ghost is scared of appearing in public and may not live with people. This is what legend tells us. Now perhaps he is an unusual ghost, but I think we must instead accept that idea that he is human, and there are worlds outside the ones we are accustomed to.�
The other elder spoke again. �If it is his mother�s anomaly, he couldn't be in our village today. When the mother has an abnormal pregnancy children are born with deformities: may be three arms or one leg�but skin is not a deformity. Let me tell you that when people die we bury them in our soil and then under there is a humidity that makes the skin sweat. After many years the skin starts becoming light and then they incarnate in other lands. Because they were dead they forget everything that happened before in their previous life. They speak language of dead people. All the dead people speak a dialect that we who knew them once before cannot understand.�
�Elder, why is that language understood and translated by the two black invaders?�
�Those so called whites are former dead people who appeared in their lands and with time they learn this new dialect.�
�But how do you know it is this incarnate and not a ghost? What are these differences that you know and we do not?�
�The ghost does not have a location, but wanders from place to place, never staying anywhere long, and cannot be trapped. And even in ghost form, their skin can still be black.�
With this explanation everyone in the group started mumbling and nodding. More women had joined them, and some of the younger men, as well.
�Do you mean if we die and get buried underground we will come out white like that one?� He turned and pointed to Jean who returned with Kinwa and Mpuwu, carrying a large antelope tied to the pole between them.
�That is correct.�
One of the women spoke up? �But where are the ancestors if dead people incarnate into the whites?�
�The ancestors are the last stage. When the white people die for the second time they become ancestors.�
A number of the people questioned this, their confused voices jumbling over each other.
The second elder held up his hand. �Let me try to explain. When people die they become first a ghost. The ghost still has a black skin. Then secondly they become white and then, when they die again, they become our ancestors, the ones we call in our prayer to help us, to protect us, bless us� and the ancestors, because they are close to Mzambi, bring our prayers to the great deity who humbles us with our survival.�
�So that is what is meant in legend by the balance? Live one way, and then another way, and return to the right away again?�
Everyone started talking to each other and nodding, but another interrupted to ask this second elder to tell them more of what he feels about this new white man.
�I saw the invaders coming. I dreamed first of my grandmother who talked to me in my dream to be prepare me to meet some one from far. The grandmother had three oranges: one was bigger than the other two. When I took the orange, a big wind came followed by rain. I thought when I wake up in the morning that my granddaughter will give birth to a baby girl because the one who talked to me in the dream was a woman, but she gave birth to a baby boy! I went to complain to the ancestors at sleep time, but this time a friend of mine appeared in my dream with three chickens, two were white in color and the other one was red. Then they started fighting for some foods.�
Several of the villagers started to murmur to themselves that this meant that the foreigners were meant to be food, but it was wrong to interpret the dreamer�s dreams for him. So no one paid them any attention. The Dreamer, however, heard them.
�Some of you believe the rumor that food is becoming scarce on the plains, and that these men were sent to help us so that we do not starve. Some of you believe that war is coming with the northerners because of this, or that we need another sacrifice of humans in order to get the animals to return again. But these invaders must be studied, so that we must gain all we can in information from them first. They may be able to tell us how to win if we war against the north. There will be time enough for sacrifice, if necessary. The dream instead meant that there will be three gifts given to us that will help us to survive. White is the color of clouds before rain and red the color of blood. These are fertile symbols, meaning that a great feast is on its way. And these men may bring it. They may bring us a great victory against the north, where we will kill and eat all our prisoners. We must give them the chance.�
�Tell us more,� the people chanted, knowing that the Dreamer needed encouragement to finish his interpretations. They began to dance around the elders. �Tell us more.�
The Dreamer began to speak loudly, eyes closed, as though lost in the dream. �My grandmother gave three oranges and one of them was bigger than the others. And we received three visitors; one is bigger than the other two, for he commands them. Then come a storm; that storm meant trouble following the arrival of the three visitors. And we went to stand outside in the judging field for two days. Orange is a food, of course, but she didn�t give me or instruct me to eat them. In that dream I was alone, she gave me three oranges to myself. I cannot eat alone three oranges, but to keep them nicely. Fruit are created to be eaten or to be kept preciously. In the second dream I saw my late friend giving me three chickens, two white are those two black visitors and one with red color represents the white man. The red color represents a dangerous situation, like when we bleed. Red represents blood or danger. Once you try to play with red, I mean the white man, you will die because of his magic. And white chicken represents peace. They are peaceful, those two black visitors, because they talk the same dialect to us, even though their accent is different. It is only the white man who doe not talk the same dialect, but is the same nature with those blacks. Because in my dream they are all chickens, and in the real life they wear all the same kind of clothes. And then, lastly, they fought for some grain of food. The fight means trouble. Why do I keep insisting that they are not food? Because food cannot eat other food? The chickens were eating other foods.� His eyes opened wide in surprise. �I think now we have clarity. You know before anything or any event arrives in our village, my ancestors always warn me. I was late to catch the meaning of the two dreams but now I have clarity. A big trouble may come with the stay of those people in our land. They bring war. But not to help us win it. We must do that ourselves, as we always have.�
Atumba, one of the most suspicious, nodded. �It is clear now that we have the answers we have been looking for.�
But another, one who first started the questioning, shrugging. �I still say the white man look like Tumba.�
The other elder held up his hands as the talking started again. �We have heard the dream. We all know to be cautious with these new strangers in our land. But we are still stronger than they yet and can take the time to study them.�
The Dreamer agreed. �My dream is only one of caution, not one of killing. When I dream of killing, I will tell the Chief and he will decide what to do.�
Although several of the people wanted to argue, they did not. To themselves, as they broke into smaller groups, some thought that the foreigners needed the chance to help them, and others were ready to kill them should they may any dangerous gesture.
Two very suspicious men and their wives were Atumbu and Kel, and Timbu and Lub. They had three children each, and they were most afraid. They met that evening to discuss ways of killing the foreigners, but they were careful. If anyone found out they went against the wishes of the elders they would cause trouble.
CHAPTER 7
Simon was send to the north of the territory. He was lucky to be send to the people who were not known as cannibal but he was warned that he will meet the Bantu warrior. People who fight. And that was fine with him. When he got there he realized that fighting southern tribes was encouraged because they were losing faith with the priests for being able to convert them. He learned that his friend Jean, who went south, would be sacrificed along with them. He felt bad, and thought maybe he could try to help Jean, even if the rest were killed.
Simon enjoyed killing but never got the chance to be in a war before. He felt he could become a great general, at least of these black people, who would listen to him better than any whites ever had. He knew that King Leopold�s dream was to exploit the continent upper to North and the Nile river.
Unlike Jean who had to do a lot of walking where he was sent, traveling in the north large part was by river. And Simon figured that this is a main reason that the northerners would win the war, because they had more great technology for fighting the wars.
Unlike Jean who traveled with only two porters, Simon traveled in a large group of about twenty Belgians and fifty porters, all chosen for their ability or desire to fight. The government recruited two porters for every colonist to transport the goods and play bodyguard, ready to protect and kill whoever came near their colonists.
Simon traveled with a fellow who called himself Francois, a real phony type of about 50. Francois kept telling him all these stories that Simon wasn�t sure were real. "How many times have you been to Africa?" Francois tried to convince Simon that he already knew everything about their mission.
Francois responded, surprising Simon: "This is my first time." But then Francois told him that he�d had many meetings with the king, and did a lot of studying in advance. He planned to be a general. He told Simon about a fellow, Diego Cao, who had reached the central Africa in 1483. Simon lost interest in that story but perked up when he heard that in 1870, King Leopold hired Henry Morton Stanley to establish the map. Stanley traveled mostly by boat, so he explored mostly the territory with the big rivers. Simon remembered the story of Stanley finding the missing Dr. Livingston, but what he didn�t know was that Stanley also was a newspaperman who covered the wars in the U.S. with Indians.
Listening to Francois was like getting a history lesson, but Simon was anxious to succeed as well, so he listened, wanting to know more about this king, whether he believed Francois actually met him or not. In 1885, the conference of Berlin recognized Leopold effort and gave him the central part of the continent. But that didn�t answer Simon�s true question - what was Africa really like? He has seen some of the difference in Boma. The weather was different, the very air felt harder to breathe than he expected. But Boma seemed more civilized than he expected. He expected to see everyone wearing animal clothes or plant leaves.
Sitting quietly next to them, amidst many bags and parcels, was an older man, a man Simon wanted to ignore because he seemed to old for this mission. Francois must have said something the old man, Jacob, didn�t like because he interrupted both with a booming voice.
�This is the land of money. The land of resources. The land of ignorance. We are making money while taking what is theirs with the words of God.�
�Something wrong with that, old man? With taking what we can while we can? They�ll learn soon enough. It�s the way of the world, isn�t it?� Simon figured he was probably just another criminal and therefore not deserving of any respect Simon always felt he should have for elders.
Francois turned to Jacob. �Time will come when they will know the value of their resources: rubbers, cotton, minerals but now that they are still blind let�s make money."
Jacob nodded. �Once we teach them to value what we make with their resources, then they will know what we have taken. But the most important thing is they learn our God. Problem is, once they do, they will become greedy, too.�
Simon was glad he�d never gotten river sickness or this constant motion would bind his mind and his tongue. But he could watch the waters passing easily as he spoke. �Are you saying our God makes us greedy?�
Jacob nodded. �Since the time of Columbus, friend. Your history professor here has not mentioned God, gold and glory, no?�
Simon decided the old man was crazy. He busied himself with watching the river for signs of hippopotamus and crocodile.
Francois laughed at Simon, as though reading his mind. "You will see the animals only when you don't expect to." He then went on to tell Simon other things, while Jacob appeared to doze once again. He told Simon that for many years Europeans imagined many things, about Africa as a dreamscape. Ranulf Hidgen, a Benedictine monk who mapped the world about 1350, said that Africa contained one-eyed people who used their feet to cover their heads. Another geographer in the next century announced in the next century announced that Africa held people with one leg, three faces and the head of lions. In 1459, an Italian monk, Fra Mauro, declared Africa the home of �roc,� a bird so large that it could carry an elephant through the air.
Simon listened but kept watching the water. What he at first thought were sticks sticking up moved and blinked. They were the large eyes of a hippopotamus. But it never came up as the boat sailed on past. He looked at the green plants in the isolated island on the Aruwini river and imagined that he could see the monsters Francois described in those trees.
Francois remembered the story of Peter Forbath who wrote that Africa was a land of uttermost dread, where the heavens flung down liquid sheets of the flame and the waters boiled. Where serpent rocks and ogre islands lie in wait for the mariner, where the giant hand of Satan reaches up from the fathomless depths to seize him, where he will turn black in the face and the body as the mark of God's vengeance for the insolence of his prying into this forbidden mystery. And even if he should be able to survive all these ghastly perils and sail on through, he would then arrive in the Sea of Obscurity and be lost forever in the vapors and slime at the edge of the world.
It was at the end of that period the Portuguese who were the powerful nation of that time developed caravans and good compact vessels and good sailing into the wind that they started landing along the coast of Africa and other continents.
Still they did not enter very far into the continent. Even the Belgian colonist has found places away from the big rivers that were still virgin. One of the consequences of the exploration was the implantation of Boma, the capital of the new land. For almost five centuries the explorers and Europeans who were not scared took the risk to arrive in the continent. But even the bravest would only go so far into the interior. They told others this was because they found all they needed along the coast.
It is why Boma was much more developed and the indigenous who lived in that part were called civilized, and now could interpret for them and help them to explore farther and deeper. These things took time, Francois reminded Simon. And all because the missionaries built churches and schools, hospitals and more.
Simon thought fondly again of Jean. He had hoped they�d be sent to the same area. But he was greatly relieved not to be going to the land of the cannibals-the land he know knew they were going to have to war to conquer. It is better to die by diseases or an axe that to end up in the cannibal's pot. And they would see to it that those awful natives never hurt anyone ever again. He wondered if already Jean wasn�t filling the rumbling in someone�s stomach. Simon would be more than happy to war against people who did that.
Despite all the challenges, there was one man whom they thanked for the opportunities and also blamed for the misery in this land of many strange humans, and animals, of plants that ate animals, of strange diseases. Simon thought Francois was going to say Leopold, the king of Belgian, but he said Stanley helped Belgian to secure this big land.
Francois knew more about Stanley than Simon did. His uncle Claude had worked for Stanley. When the American Civil War began Stanley joined the Confederates and in April 1862 went into combat with his regiment of Arkansas Volunteers at the battle of Shiloh in Tennessee. On the second day of fighting he was surrounded by half dozen Union soldiers and soon found himself in a crowded, typhus-ridden prison camp outside Chicago. The only way out of this miserable place, he discovered, was to enlist in the Union army, which he promptly did, only to fall ill with dysentery and receive a medical discharge. After working his way back and forth across the Atlantic as a sailor, in 1864 he enlisted in the Union Navy. His fine handwriting got him a post as ship's clerk on the Minnesota. He got a job after as a freelance contributor to a local newspaper in St. Louis.
After a short adventure in Turkey his career as a newspaperman took off. In 1867, he covered the Indian war, including with Hancock and Custer in Kansas. Then James Gordon Bennet, Jr., the editor of New York Herald, hired him. When he was 27 and visiting Cairo, he was hired as a permanent roving correspondent for the Herald, based in London. His adventure in Africa began when he was sent to look for Livingstone a British physician and missionary who set out on an expedition and hadn�t returned, and people feared he had been eaten by the cannibals. Simon remembered seeing cartoons of Stanley finding Livington in a pot. The Herald publisher sent Stanley to the Rufifi river. He went first to Zanzibar and recruited a porter to help him in the search of Livingston, who had been gone for five years. Armed with dog called Omar, porters, armed guard and two British sailors, Stanley journeyed for eight months, finally finding Livingstone in 1872. By this time Stanley�s convoy had grown to 190 men.
Stanley viewed Livingstone as a father figure who taught him about Africa. They navigated in many African rivers up to Lake Tanganyika. But Livingstone refused to return to home and died a short while. He had been in love with his new life.
One of the men who followed Stanley�s adventures was Leopold Deux, king of Belgians who took over after his father in 1865. He has the Zeal to invest in foreigner land. He once said
"Il faut que a la Belgique une colonie." - Belgian has to have a colony. "I am specially interested in the Argentine Province of Entre Rios and the very small island of Martin Garcia at the confluence of the Uruguay and the Parana. Who owns this Island? Could one buy it, and establish there a free port under the moral protection of the King of Belgians? Nothing would be easier than to become the owner of the lands in the Argentine states three or four times as the big as Belgium.� He had big plans and he was ruthless about how to accomplish his goals of making himself rich.
Eventually he invested in the Suez Canal Company. He tried to acquire Fiji, because one should not let such fine land slip from one�s potential grasp. He looked into railways in Brazil and into leasing territory on the island of Formosa. Leopold Deux was not content with the small Belgian. He needed much more territory. Like many leaders, he wanted to rule over the world, if possible.
British and the Boers controlled South Africa and Portugal took many lands in Africa include Mozambique, but 80% of Africa was still under indigenous rulers. Stanley, before being recruited by the Belgian king, had a second big exploration mission in Africa and discovered many things that he wrote in the Daily Telegraph. His second exploration mission had about 356 peoples. He was congratulated by many people include both houses of USA, Congress and fellows explorers. But the explorers recruited him to descend in Congo. He had many accolades in Cape Town, Cairo. But the central part of the land was not explored yet.
In 1878, Leopold secretly dispatched Sanford and Greindle to intercept Stanley on his visit to Paris. King Leopold made an offer to Stanley to explore the central Africa for 25,000 Francs a year for his time spent in Europe and 50,000 Francs (about $250,000) for the time spent in Africa. And the King would also fund the entire expedition. The Congo River that had 60% basin river in central Africa drained more than 1.3 million square miles, an area larger than India. It has an estimated one-sixth of the world hydroelectric potential.
Claude, Francois�s uncle, was recruited in Stanley�s first mission to central Africa, and was one of among a hundred of the recruits who succumbed to disease and died there. Claude had been buried, and his family never found out where. It was a shock to Francois� family and held him back for many years to seize the opportunity to make money in Africa. But after several business failures of his own in Europe (so he told Simon) he was ready to give it a try.
Simon didn�t tell Francois the truth, either. He said he had just graduated from college in England, instead of being in prison for murder. Francois took a big swig from his water jug and then popped a white pill. �I am taking two a day instead of one. Just to be careful.�
"Francois, I think more than one might even hurt you."
The porters accompanying them were amazed to see here this young man call an older man by his first name. In the Africa tradition they always show respect to the elder. They don't call an elder by his name. It must be preceded by a respect name such as big brother or father or uncle.
Simon was relieved by the fourth day of river boat travel that they finally arrived in Malinda. After hearing all sort of stories from Francois he felt close to Francois and stuck with him, the way he would have with Jean. They could see plenty of wood cut down, ready to be taken to Boma and sent to Europe.
And the village had other modern signs, too. Like the church, and the children dressed in clothes instead of plant leaves.
And to Simon everyone seemed sad. He asked Francois, �The village is weeping?"
Francois responded. "It is the way of life here."
No sign of happy people. All the indigenous were escorted. The colonists and porters were shouting at the local people and some of them had chain on their legs. He had the impression here that the citizens were slave in their own village.
�What have we done?� he thought aloud to Francois. He had the impression that Africans were by nature very happy people. He learned that slavery ended a long time ago.
So Francois told him another story, this time about Malinda. The entrance of all foreigners in the land was authorized by the chief or the king in the land. The start of the relationship of the colonist and the indigenous had been a good one. But as time went on with the perpetual arrival of many colonists, the Malinda chief, Mr. Tshakalaka, opposed their entrance and so, in a brief war, he was killed.
Once the chief of the village was killed, the families in the village began to fight among themselves who should rule. It was not always a lineage rule, not if one family could prove itself stronger. In Boma this did not succeed because the village warrior fought the colonist believed to have killed the chief. After a fierce fight that took over three days in Boma the colonists with their superior fire power killed many warriors, until there was no one left to fight, only to convert.
The local villagers in Malinda started fleeing the city as the Porter and the new comers captured some of the villager and forced them to work before they could stop fighting among themselves.
But Simon still wondered. "Why do we have to force the people to work for us?"
Francois laughed. "We are all under pressure to perform. If we let the villagers free to run, then we�d have to do all the hard work ourselves."
The group that Simon saw was being sent into the forest to collect rubber from the trees and to plant more trees. Simon didn�t understand what all the rubber would be used for, but he heard about a new type of vehicle that many were excited about. That maybe someday everyone could go wherever they wanted, even where rivers did not run, without wearing out their feet. Perhaps rubber was needed for shoes now, but shoes weren�t that big.
Francois pointed to some white colonists who were yelling at one young black man who couldn�t seem to stand. "We are all under pressure from our king to perform. From Belgian, to Boma and from Boma to the local villager. And that pressure started long time ago when king Leopold Deux took the land. Because he invested a lot of time and money into this land, and needed to get it back, and then get rich.�
Leopold Deux even forced the man he hired to help him to explore the continent, Stanley. Stanley was an American, but he was a hero in England. At some point during his explorations, he wanted to quit. He had lost many of his people from various diseases and some fighting with some tribes in the continent. He began to feel sick himself, but the King who hired him forced him to keep working on the continent. He wanted a high production of all goods so he can get all the taxes that they will go in his private account.
There was no time to rest for the colonists in Africa. There was no sick leave or holiday. There was no tourism in the land but work and more work. And now, they would start a war because they felt they could conquer all the land and people more quickly that way, like they did in Boma. Only the churches seemed to escape the pressure, because sometimes Leopold didn�t care about saving their souls, as long as they worked. And the colonists they could push the hardest were the ones freed from prison, Francois told him.

CHAPTER 8
Simon could imagine seeing the land�s original people being escorted by people wearing the traditional colonial attire of Khaki shorts and white short-sleeve shirts, carrying guns and Chicottes, pushing the indigenous to the ports with rubbers on their head.
What he saw was unhappiness.
Simon followed Francois to a small room at the back of a stock of wood. This was to be their room, as they volunteered to share together. The wood stocked up was of great value and one of their jobs was to protect it against thieving. The black tree called Wenge was very expensive in Europe, and was being cut down wherever it was found.
After they unpacked their meager belongings they stepped back outside to get a feel for their territory. Francois locked their door behind him, as they didn�t want anyone to get their weapons. Simon took a walk ahead of Francois down a path leading to the river, lined richly with worthless brush and weeds. Some porters and the local people working with chains on their feet hauled some of the black wood to the four ships that arrived.
Simon asked Francois, "Why would other black people mistreat black people like that?
Those porters are from Boma and I�ll bet some are even from from Zanzibar, West Africa and East Africa.�
Francois shrugged. �They are civilized now, and know the worth of trade with money. Money is the civilizer, with the power to erase skin color.�
�I thought Christiantiy was the civilizer?�
�What�s the difference?�
Simon snorted. �Oh, come on, there is one. No matter what you think, friend, God is not the same as Greed." But as Simon watched, and realized what his role would be here, too, he understood that slavery was not yet over. It has only changed names, and places, and reasons. Slavery had once been about forced immigration, but now colonialism was forced labor under the emblem of exporting civilization.
Simon told Francois. "I maybe can be a colonel in an army, but I don�t think I can do that."
Francois chuckled. �l'appetit vient en mangeant."
Simon started at Francois. His uncle died here, and yet he had no qualms at all about forcing, beating, maybe even killing just to earn money? And now he says that all Simon has to do is get used to the idea.
Simon watched the indigenous walking with chains on their leg followed like dogs. None of them were singing, or dancing, or even talking, the way he�d imagined. Some of them were half naked. Simon had heard while in Boma that there were two tactics to exploit the land. For the virgin land where a colonist never passed, they used the friendly conversion relations, first. But then the same pattern began of the friendliness cooling when trading began and the natives seemed to think they got less than they gave. How could getting God be less than anything? Maybe they were miserable ingrates who deserved what happened to them? One of the missionaries told him once, "An indigenous is lazy by nature. He doesn't know to respect time. He is not taught to wake up every morning to go to work. He works when he wants to and only dong what suits him, which is to hunt for food to keep his family warm and fed. So to teach him, you must use the chicotte(hit)." (WHIP?)
Simon thought that to hear a missionary say these words, they must be a joke. But this first morning in Malinda, watching the natives moving their sacred tree into European boats, Simon saw several receive the chicotte. He heard the sharpness, and saw the blood. But no native ever screamed, that he could tell. They won�t be much fun to kill, he thought dismally.
Simon finally caught up to Francois who had walked closer to the water to watch, while still keeping an eye on the precious wood supply. "Why hide the fact that colonialism is also slavery?"
�Because no one accepts slavery anymore. Colonialism, though, is something they understand.�
�They?�
�Oh, those do-gooders in England and the U.S. and other places. You don�t see any of them coming here to observe, do you? They would, if you call these people slaves."
Simon realized that Francois was right. The slaves were stripped of freedom when taken from their land to a new continent, but here the villagers are robbed of freedom in their own land. Seeing a foreigner mistreating them in their own land was more than a torture, because it mingled pain of the present with all the happy memories of the past on the same ground, in the same dirt. Seeing all they once had taken away like this was cruelty beyond measure. He had read stories of Natives in the U.S. being robbed of their homes, but they were never made slaves. That made the U.S. feel that they were better than others. They weren�t, because they still even now tried to keep killing those natives, just to get rid of them. And now, here, he was going to be in a war, very much patterned after those U.S. Indian wars, using natives to fight other natives and call it an African, and not a European, war.
Simon had a sudden thought. "Maybe sometimes when cannibals eat foreigners, they are doing the best thing. Some of these people deserve to be eaten."
Francois nodded. �Perhaps. But once those in the South get the cannibalism beaten out of them, once they are converted, they will then become greedy and want the colonists out. That�s when the beatings begin. So no danger of being eaten here."
Jean had traveled with only two people to his village. There is no way that they can overpower the indigenous there, so they have to use friendly practices. But here in the north they traveled in large groups and found a large number of colonies already established. These people has been in contact with the colonists many years ago.
Simon was disappointed to learn they could not wander far, without one of them staying behind to guard the wood. He wasn�t ready to go off walking on his own yet. They saw another colonist arriving to the small cottage next to theirs. He greeted them with the official native greeting they were to learn, and handed them each the uniform they were to wear. After some fussing over sizes, the men went into their cottage to dress.
Celestin was waiting for them to come back out in uniform and Simon wanted to know about him. He had been in this village for more than ten years, working in the administration.
"Celestin, why does this village have many natives but no chief?"
"Look, this village was taken with the evangelism of gospel. After Tshakalaka, the chief of his village, became stubborn we decided to use force and get rid of him. All the others villages still have the traditional chief." Celestin paused. "All the chiefs are cooperating with us in giving us the needed men and women to work. It is why they are good friends. But Tshakalaka refused to cooperate. He told the indigenous to resist."
To Simon, Celestin seemed proud of what they did here. "Malinda is a big center of rubber and of Wenge, the black trees. I cannot stress enough your jobs of guarding these stockpiles until they can be shipped. You will alternate, because one of you must go into the forest to make sure no natives are acting lazy. We cannot afford to lose this port. These natives don�t understand what we�re doing for them. As soon as they learn how to become good workers, we can leave here and trust them to continue the work. We�re not there yet. Plus we have to finish building his schools and the railway."
Francois had been staring out at the river. He suddenly turned back and surprised Simon by asking, �But all those things we bring to them mean nothing to the villagers. They have had their own way of dressing, of using their resources, and I�m told, they had once been a happy, dancing people. They had traditional medicine which kept them healthy, and a way to hunt that did not endanger their animals. Are we really bring them progress, or trying to destroy them for our own benefit?�
�And what about war?� Simon asked. �I was told I could maybe be a colonel.�
Celestin was quiet for a while as he studied the two men who seemed like troublemakers to him. �Look, I know that you are Walloon men. I am a Flama( Flemish). Let us leave our differences in Europe. Civilization has a way of driving away the indigenous from their animalistic way of life. You think it better we let them stay primitive, without realizing they too are human?"
Then, when both men had no further questions, Celestin gave them the Chicotte, the beating stick. Celestin reminded them why they were here, and reassured Simon that war would come if war was needed. He told them that the current value of rubber was worth a little pain and inconvenience to human life. Rubber was a new fortune-maker, selling at 1.35 Franc a kilo in Congo and getting it was almost for free from the African forest. The black tree of Wenge sold at 10 kilo in Europe with a profit ratio of about 700%, after shipping costs. They didn�t even have to feed or house the natives.
The men learned to understand each other by recognizing their own native patterns. In the small kingdom of Belgium, there was a big fight between the two biggest tribal group, the Wallon and the Flama or Flemish. The fight was started many centuries ago, and cultural groups develop very long memories and much vengeful attitudes, like everywhere in the world-like, Simon thought, here. Even thought Leopold has adopted French as a medium language in Congo, the Belgians distinguish themselves by their accents, and can always tell each other apart.
Because of endless conflicts there, the kingdom adopted a neutral king. They took the king system originally from Germany. So Belgians had a king of German descent and they were still very close to Germany.
After Celestin left them, Simon told Francois to watch the wood because he wanted to study the rubber production closer. He got to the edge of the first woods, as it was called, and saw that rubber was actually processed by tapping the trees, like getting maple syrup. Rubber, one colonist told him as he watched, is a coagulated sap from the trees, the French word for it, caoutchouc, comes from a South American Indian word meaning " the wood that weeps".
Simon nodded. The wood weeps, as does its people.
Simon realized he still held his Chicotte. But could he ever bring himself to beat someone? That seemed so much harder than just picking up a gun and shooting them. But shooting them robs you of a laborer.
�Slavery.� That was the one word they left out when they told him that he would enjoy his new job getting rich in war in Africa.
CHAPTER 9
Once the three invaders were freed for their week�s trial, they were given a guest house in the middle of the village. As they had been advised, once they had the heart of the chief they had all the village. They had a week to win them over permanently. They had a series of meeting with the chief and different dignitaries in order to answer questions so they could determine if these foreigners would be a threat.
Jean was amazed that all the meetings started and ended with prays and a series of drum beating. He realized that drum was not only a dancing and communication instrument but also very spiritual.
Jean�s group defined the mission in the village. �We are here to bring civilization. We will bring clothes and other materials in exchange of your labor. We will give you some western magic from very far. We need you to give us ten strong men to help us to do our works.�
Jean used the word �magic� liberally because he was dealing with a group obsessed with supernatural forces and that was a word they would respond to.
The leader of the council stood after Jean had finished. �Before agreeing to your request, we will need to know what you want these ten men to do. Will they be harmed?�
The other men agreed, and another stood. �I have seen people missing a hand or a foot because they were strong once, and needed by your kind. Now they are good for little but begging from village to village. We call them northern beggers, the result of what your civilization can do.�
Jean realized that even if whites had never been in this village, the results of their work travel a great deal ahead of them. That would make his job a little harder. Jean nodded. �Those were the evil rubber plantation owners. We do not want rubber, because rubber does not grow well here. We want to have a plantation of cotton and coffee.�
�Cotton?�
�Yes, cotton and coffee. This will be your future, to be allow you to become good trading partners with the rest of the world.�
�We are our world. This is no other and they do not seem to care about cotton.�
Another stood seeing that Jean was confused. �We always have cotton growing in the bushes and have never needed ten people to work for cotton. It is useless, a wild tree, good for very little.�
�The world�is a very big place. Outside of your village.�
�You would have us trade with evil plantation owners?�
Mpuwu translated and then shrugged, so Jean knew this was not going well. He would have quotas to fill, just like they did on rubber plantations, but how would the word quota translate in their language? �We need those wild trees. They will help us to make some nice clothes in the land of whites. Since you do not value them, you will not mind giving them to us. We will see that you are well cared for in return.�
�We are well cared for before you came.� A lot of the men laughed, and Mpuwu translated, laughing too until seeing Jean�s frown.
Finally, after a long silence, one man in the council nodded. �It will not take long to gather cotton from the bushes and will not take ten men to do so in a day.�
�Yes, we will need you to do that but we will also need men to help us plant more. Once you have picked all the wild cotton we will have to grow more to pick. And we need coffee. You will grow much coffee and it will make you wealthy.�
They stared at him, again unimpressed. �Who wants this coffee?�
Jean shrugged. �Well, we will create a market for it and many will want it.�
Finally the leader stood again. �How long are you intending to live here?�
�We want to be here for first two years and we will see if we may renew our staying again.�
The men all started mumbling and shaking their heads. �Two years is asking too much. I say we get the pot out again.�
Another stood. �No, I think I understand. We grow the cotton. He takes the cotton. He brings us much food for the cotton. We do not have to hunt, but just lay around watching cotton grow.� A discussion in native tongue gave Jean some hope that they were assenting, even though this was not quite right.
�We will give first one year to stay in our land, if we see that your conduct is good and if we get fat and happy, which is the sign of a strong tribe. Then we may give you more five years to renew your stay here.�
The biggest man, captain of the warriors, had remained quiet but finally he stood. �We also want weapons. Those in the north will fight us with weapons and we need to fight back. If you agree to get us weapons for our war, I will agree that you can stay.�
�Ah. Sure.� Jean figured to figure a way out of that later.
�We agree to your suggestions.�
�But one more thing. We won�t allow you to take control of our men. It is against our law. The chief is the only man to take control of the men. And the men take control of their women and their children. If we allow you control of ten men that means that we have sold our power to you. We will never sell or give a portion of our power to anyone else.�
Jean shook his head. �So how will we plant our crops and who will get to be so honored with the task of collecting these goods?
�We will do as you plan, but the village and his dignitary will take control of the men in charge of the plantations. We have many big men. We can even put in disposition of your demand 100 men. Then we will come to you with the products collected and you will give us what you got.�
�You will give me control of two foremen?�
�Middlemen. They come between you and our people.�
Jean nodded. Good use of the term. �Give us a chance to have a quick private consultation.�
�We will separately have a discussion to see if we are in agreement and then meet together again.�
Jean and his porters went outside the council.
As usual Kinwa spoke while Mpuwu remained silent. �Jean, I think that the idea is good. We let them plant and they come with their products and we give them our products. We don�t have to be under the sun every morning to supervise the workers.�
�Do you think really that they may provide the quantity we need?�
�For sure, they will provide, the village is very big and have many people. Once the chief gives the order, they will respect what the chief has said. Any villager who will go and collect in the bushes some cotton and will plant more cotton, and who then brings us the product, we will give them ours in exchange. What could go wrong?�
Mpuwu seemed more agitated than usual, however, and spoke up. �We are running short of some clothes, mirrors, salt��
Kinwa shook his head. �We will continually be supplied by the priests. These foolish natives only want food and guns. We can get them from the priests, in exchange for our proof that we are converting them.�
Jean rubbed his eyes, suddenly tired. �Proof. I�ll have to make religious counsel part of the agreement, too.�
Jean nodded. �So once we finish the meeting, you, Mpuwu, you will go with my letter to the priests to collect some supplies, and make sure they stock up with more.� Jean was in Africa to make his fortune as he had been led to believe he would, even though the government sent him in African virgin land as a sort of punishment. He wanted to make money and more money than he�d ever seen. �I think the fastest way to get things done and show the people we�ll protect them from war is by selling one of the guns we have to the chief.�
Kinwa grabbed Jean�s arm in shock. �No, I don�t think that is a good idea. The guns are our protection. If we give them one, we have no advantage over them.�
�You heard what they wanted-you told it to me. They are afraid of war coming from the north. If we don�t help them win, we have nothing here. We become the slaves of the north. Don�t worry. We teach the King how to use it and others will come to want one, too. We give them what they desire more than anything else and they will give us what we need.� Jean walked to the tent and peered in at the council before turning back. �I will ask for two guns from the priests in exchange of three tons of cotton. I will sell one gun here for every five tons of cotton. We will earn extract two tons of cottons and one extract gun. That will help us make money very quickly, for they will want these guns for their war.�
�What about coffee?�
�There will be people who do not want to get involved in cotton. We get them hooked on coffee and then teach them how to grow it.�
Meanwhile inside, the council had continued on. The chief was as stubborn as always, fearing he could lose his power. �I will never allow anyone else to have control of our people.�
�We may only give them the quantity they need and they keep us in clothes and well fed, so that we don�t have to hunt and save ourselves for the war.�
�They are stupid, we have many cotton growing in our bushes. It is useless to care about cotton because we don�t eat it.�
�We will have a lot of things with our wild products.�
�Why should we change our ways to meet theirs? Why do we even listen to them?�
�They have things we do not have. We know of no other way to get these things.�
�We could kill them and take.�
�Better to find a few to make our friends, to use them to get what we want. They are like the magic tree on which good things grow.�
�But they must agree to do things our way.�
Jean and his porters walked back into the council room. �We have agreed to your suggestions.�
�That is good.� A number of the natives made grunting, assertive noises. �Where there are people living there are always problems. In our custom we say that people do not look for problems but problems follow people, and the solution is always there to reconcile people, if one is patient enough to wait for it to arrive.�
Jean shrugged. �Whatever. We have a big offer to give you. We don�t know if you may accept it?�
The chief stood, looking suspicious. �What is big?�
�A very big thing to give you.�
�What do you mean?�
�We want to give you power.� Then Jean interrupted his interpreter and told him to speak only to the king himself not to others dignitaries about the gun. So the others dignitaries left the meeting room except Mfumu and his advisor.
Mfumu continued, �We have power. We have many strong warriors in our village that are our neighbors. And we have a lot of weapons too. We have the strongest witch doctors in our lands and the wisest people in all this area. So I don�t think that you may give us more power, unless you give us your magic.�
�We have the strongest weapon that exists in this world?�
�This is our country so we have the power.�
�You are far behind in technology. We have a power weapon that may kill thousand of enemies and many animals in few seconds.�
�Do you mean�those terrible things that the north will war with against us?�
They showed him the so-called decorated stick. �This is what we are talking about.�
�This is that terrible thing? That will kill thousand of enemies?� The King touched the barrel end. �It is not even sharp.�
�It is not like a spear or arrow. Great power comes out of that tunnel.�
The King stuck his nose, and then his tongue, into the tunnel, and made a face. �You stick something in there?�
�Don�t even touch it! It looks very dangerous, chief,� the advisor cautioned.
�I have the traditional protections from the ancestors! This cannot do anything to me.� As he said this, it began to rain, the normal afternoon shower. Jean started to go inside, but the natives just kept on as though getting soaked was their normal way of life.
Jean, however, knew the gun wouldn�t work if it got too wet. He took it back and tried to hold it close. �This is death.� He thought if he could hurry with a demonstration it might still work. But if it didn�t work because of the rain, he�d look like a fool. Perhaps end up in a pot after all.
�Death?�
�We will show you how it is dangerous to any animal.� Jean whispered to Kinwa to get him his umbrella, and hurry, or they�d be stew.
�You are joking.� The chief sprayed water out of his mouth as he talked, as though the most natural thing in the world.
�Bring a cow and we will show you how it works.�
�Let me send one of my guards to get a chicken.�
�No, no chicken. Bring the biggest cow to see how the magic works. Anything little thing can kill a chicken. But killing a cow will show how dangerous this is for humans.�
They sent one of Mfumu�s guards to get a big cow from the nearest farm.
Mfumu then turned to Jean, who was getting ready to fire the weapon. �If you lie to me I will execute you all.�
Jean nodded and sent a silent prayer to his God to let this work so that he will have more converts for his heaven. �Mfumu, there is nothing more powerful in this world than this piece of stick that we call gun.�
�So let us see it work. You escaped death once and no one who comes to my village escapes death twice. I am Mfumu, your life and your death.�
Jean eyed the cow, prayed for the taste of cow meat for dinner, and pulled the trigger.
Pum pum! And the gun smoked only briefly before the rain put out its power.
But the big cow went straight down. All the villagers around the chief fell to their knees in terror, while the chief tried to keep from looking frightened.
�That is powerful. The cow is killed by the loud noise?�
�No, it has secret powder and metal that flies into the cow.� Jean took the chief to the cow to show him the blood. �If you get the metal into the right part of the cow, the heart or the brain, he dies right away. Sometimes he is just injured.�
�Will it kill an elephant?�
Jean thought about this. �A bigger size gun will. They make what they call elephant guns.�
The chief held out his hand for the rifle. �Show me how.�
Jean looked up, his vision clouded by the rain in his face. He had been very fortunate to get it to fire and now, he was fairly certain, it was too wet to shoot. But he demonstrated to the chief what to do, and the chief aimed at one of the villagers. He pulled the trigger but the gun did not go off.
�Bah. It is only good for one kill.� He handed it back to Jean.
�No, chief. It is not so good to use in the rain.�
�Then what good for us? It rains here every day. We still have to hunt, we still have to eat, we still have to trade.�
�You would learn to use it only during the dry periods of the day. You could shoot so much in an hour you would not have to hunt during the rains.�
The chief grunted, staring at the gun in Jean�s hand. �And you brought this with you? You could have killed many of my warriors in an hour.�
�Yes. But we did not come here to kill you or even frighten you.�
�What can I trade you for many of these?�
�I think you know what we want, chief. We want your people to work for us, to get us the resources we need to sell to our home country, resources that will make us rich. We want you to provide what we need every day, without fail. And we will give you a stick for each of your warriors so that you never have to fear the people of the North. But these sticks need certain kinds of powders to work, and I will control the powders. I do not want to see any of your warriors try to kill any of my people.�
The chief nodded, suddenly eager to please. �I will send my people in the bush to collect many cottons and I will start mobilizing my people from tomorrow to start planting coffee and cotton to sell to you in exchange of your civilization. I want to see my people in few months all wearing your clothes and eating your foods. I will put in your disposition my people to help you in your projects.�
�We are happy to hear that.�
�I want to learn how to pronounce your name.�
�Jean.�
The chief tried but his lips wouldn�t make the �g� sound. �It is very difficult.�
�GGGgg-eeee-nnnn.�
�We will give you an African name that is similar so it is easy for all of us to say. Your friends have easy names, so if you are to live among us, you must too.�
The secretary present in the meeting suggested, �How about Tumba? He looks like the late young Tumba.�
�Tumba.�
Jean shuddered, but they didn�t notice. �That doesn�t sound much like Jean.�
�Yes, that name suits you completely. From today we people in the village will call you Tumba. Tumba is a name existing in our land from a long time. From generation to generation. Tumba means hope in our dialect. The first Tumba who lived many ages ago was a gentleman who loved everybody. He used to give hope to people who lost their hope in life. He used to preach in many villages the spirit of Ubuntu. Ubuntu is the spirit of every man to love each other, to treat every body with respect. With spirit of Ubuntu no one is a stranger-we share everything that we have. With Ubuntu we live together and die together, for each and everyone. You will find this name in our village and also surrounding villages. We had a young man ten years ago who was named Tumba. He died tragically and mysteriously. He looked like you-his eyes, his ears, he had also a small voice are like yours. And he was the same height. I think this name is perfect to you.�
�Thank you. I am honored to wear this name and be accepted as a member of the village.�
�To be a true member, you will need a woman. No man your age goes without a woman. We have nice and beautiful young women that you won't be able to resist. You will see yourself because now you have my permission to start looking at them.�
Jean realized they were asking him to get married and have children. He spoke out of his old custom without thinking. �This is really a matter that I never thought of. I have to ask my mother what she thinks before making any commitment.�
�That is crazy, you are old enough to take your life in your own hands. You left your mother and your family far away, to come here to make a living. That is mean you are responsible already. In our village everybody your age is married with many wives and children. When you are still young it is time to make as many children as possible. It is only now that you may fulfill those dreams. You are elegant and very powerful, and no woman here and around will resist your advances. So go! Make many children. May they all bear your power bravely.�
Jean realized to protest any further would be an insult to the chief. He bowed. �I respect and appreciate your concern. It is wonderful to live with people who care about me.�
�We will also give wives to yours friends.�
Mpuwu nodded. �We will always accept your generosity.�
But Kinwa put a hand up. �We left some nice women behind at Boma.�
�This is not Boma. You are now living now in Kabinde. You must have women too. Men without women make too much trouble.�
�We will let you know when we will be ready for commitments. It is too early to think about it.�
�You must try to think fast and make up your mind quickly. Time is going fast and does not make a return trip. Think about your future now.�
The villagers, as if on cue, bought some yams and other tubers, and traditional beers. They shared this meal, which was more like a snack because they did not eat the traditional three meals a day.
After this, Jean excused himself to do some paperwork. He needed to write to the priests and tell him the wonderful news about the chief�s willingness to convert to have weapons. He could barely think - he was so excited to have made such progress.
He wrote the letter:
To the senior priest, Pascal. I am happy to take this opportunity to write after one week of arriving here. I found a place where I want to locate with my Porters, Mpuwu and Kinwa. We were arrested for two days. It was a good experience for us, since we have survived it. We saw the African traditional tribunal. Many people were there to witness the trial. Africans are very organized and disciplined. The first day, Mfumu, the chief here, questioned us intently. I gave them all the goods I had as gifts. They were very amazed with the mirror and were very happy with our modern clothes. Now we are free and trying to integrate the community. We just finished the most important meeting with Mfumu and his dignitaries.
Jean thought about this - would the priest be happy to know they were giving them guns?
They have given us a one-year permit to live in this land and a possibility of renewal for five years. I like this place, the people seem wonderful, very welcoming. We have no more fear of being eaten. I have sent Mpuwu to come and collect some clothes and food to start the business. They have a lot of cotton in the bushes. And we are trying to start the exchanging of clothes to cotton. In the future we will start the coffee business. Kabinde is situated at some estimated thirty miles from your place.
But as he wrote, he thought further on it, and knew that the priests would find out about the shipload of guns.
We showed the king the use of the gun. He is very interested in getting more, so we are planning to exchange it for tons of cotton. I am planning to come and sell to you because Boma is quite far from here. For this I will need your assistance. I need two guns from you in exchange of a ton of cotton. You can take two from the gun collection you have shown me. You told me that not too many priests like to hunt anymore. If you could spare that elephant gun, we could get even more cotton planted this year.
Thank you for your advice. It has helped us a lot, now we have the heart of the king and the heart of the villagers too. They showed great fear of the gun, and this is a good thing. Now I can more easily teach them to fear our God. I may come myself in few months. They gave me a name African name Tumba, easy to pronounce. Father, please send word back about the exchange of guns for cotton.
Jean-Tumba.
Mpuwu took the letter and one gun for his protection. He was instructed to return in two days. Normally people from villages are not scared of bushes or even of animals because they learned at an early age how to handle these situations. They prefer to walk at night time because the humidity makes traveling easier. So as the moon rose, Mpuwu ran off.

CHAPTER 10
Kinwa and Jean returned to the guest house, where they were treated like visiting royalty. They had workers in their disposition to cook and clean for them, and bring them fresh water from the river, the best water they ever tasted because of the nearby rainforests. Jean found it funny not to have to take his gun everywhere anymore.
Mfumu met some of his dignitaries the next morning to discuss, among other things, the biggest thing on their minds, and that was getting guns. They were all raised with the elephant chant:
�The Elephant is a monstrous animal / It moves in herds / It is difficult to kill / Our people are lucky to have brave hunters among them.�[1]
�Those peoples are dangerous, to have the strongest magic that may exist in the all World.�
�It could have been a mistake if we tried to kill them.�
�They could have killed us as flies.�
�It is perhaps good, as the days move on, that we learn not to harm strangers that come into our village, to treat them as food for power.�
The chief shook his head. �You are asking us to change our ways for those men?�
�Now we know why they were so calm during our judgment of them.�
�We could still eat them,� the chief said. �We only have to take those sticks first.�
�But people like this might have other power, too!�
The chief did not like it when they thought he was wrong, so he changed the subject. �With that gun we will kill in just seconds our neighboring enemies. I hear more tales every day that they are gathering in forces to take our land from us.�
�Especially the Zonge - they have a very bad attitude to us. They don�t want to accept that we are stronger to them. They keep harassing us!�
The Zonge were their closest relatives who fled Kabinde because of Mfumu's and previous chief's laws and settled in a new village in the North. They always wanted to return to their ancestor's land, so there were times when they tried to take it, and chase Mfumu�s people away. Once they thought that all the bad feelings had been mended, but now it seemed that it was rising up again.
�I will kill them like flies. They are next on my agenda.�
�Because they still think that our land is theirs, they must be punished, this time forever without no mercy. We will teach them unforgettable lessons.�
�I still want to control their villages. They used to be a part of our land and they will always be under our control. Last time they came they killed twelve of our men, do you still remember?�
�I remember before we chased them, they killed our men. Yes, they raped some of our girls, too, the ones too young to be mothers. It was a supreme crime, and they knew that. They know the customs. The girls had to be killed.� This was all from the old stories, but the men talked about them as though they had just happened. That was the way with oral legends.
�This is an end to them. All Zonge will be our slaves. We will take away their farms, their animals and their women, too. We must revenge this defeat. With many of those wondrous sticks, we will be successful. We will let them attack, as they talk, but we will be ready to kill them. And eat them. We will do this-we will not eat foreigners until we find out if they can help us. But we will always eat those who attack us.�
###
Mpuwu returned after three days instead of two and his trip was very successful. He gave first the letter written by the senior priest Pascal to Jean, a response to the letter Jean had written. Mpuwu blamed the priests for his delay-they treated him too well and took too long to write the letter.
Jean, nervous about their response, waited until he was alone to read:
Thank you for writing to us and asking for assistance that we are willing to provide. We are all fine and we are very pleased to learn that you have a dream land just next to us. It is our assignment to take care of you and people around us, including the villagers.
I had a long meeting with the other four priests. We are happy that your plan is going well, and so quickly. You may come here with your products and we will take it without any hesitation. We will give you a very reasonable price. We have good transporters to bring the product to Boma. We are busy motivating villagers to speed up the road construction. We will transport the product with trailers and animals in our disposition. Well done, young man, we appreciate your courage.
We also tackle other issues that are very important. First, remember that we proposed that we should stay with you. We are ready to support you but you told us that you want to follow the Belgium's policies to take the virgin land. That is very good. But we feel, because of your young age, that we may request the government to allow us to take care of you first, and then release you later.
However, this doesn�t matter because you have a land that is next to us. Keep contacting us every week. We will make sure that we get your news at least every two weeks. In the near future we will send our delegation to come and make sure that you are well and succeeding in your projects.
Secondly, I warn you that you are living with cannibals. The cannibals are good and very kind people. But you never know when their desire for human flesh may return. When you introduce the savior, Our Lord Christ, to them, stress that we eat his body and drink his blood in ceremony, but it is only symbolic. Tell them that civilized God-fearing people cannot eat other God-fearing people. Don�t forget to have always your weapon with you and be always in your group of three people. It is why our superiors gave you two Porters who speak the South dialect. But is not 100 % guarantee, your Porters and yourself are seen as foreigners. No matter how welcome they make you feel, you will always be seen this way. And though you may make some villagers friendly toward you, you will never be able to be friends with them all. So be on your guard, always.
We plan to have more priests take those lands with the words of God. You must try also to teach them the words of God. Appeal first to them in this manner - compare our God to theirs. I will talk also to various missionaries to help us to bring the word of God there.
Jean got very nervous when he started to read the last part of the letter. His first instinct had been not to tell the priests about this.
Lastly and the most important point is about the gun you want to sell to the chief. I cannot hide that we were not pleased to hear that. The gun is our colonist and civilized power. It is good that you have the king's heart, because with that you conquer the village. But the timing is not right for an indigenous cannibal to hold a gun. If you give them the gun, you lose your power.
You did a very big thing here. Don�t try to sell the gun to anyone else. We will give them guns in few years, after they accept Christ and are fully submissive. We come here not only to do business to pay taxes to Belgium but to bring civilization. Civilization takes time; churches, schooling, beating them into submission, which you have not even started yet.
We must now undo this damage. If you do not give the chief a gun, he will be very unhappy. Give him the gun - as many as he asks for. But be very stingy in giving them ammunition. Make sure the bullets are used only for hunting. A punishment for using it on other humans is no more ammunition.
There is a good reason to withhold their ability to kill. They are a very war-like people, son, and would use these guns to kill all their neighbors, those peaceful tribes we have already converted and are working for us. We cannot risk this.
The guns are very expensive - we need at least five tons of cotton per gun. You will then sell to him at a price of up to fifteen tons of cotton per gun. This way you can earn a profit of five tons of cotton. We are sending you two guns for 10 tons of cottons. The reason of sending you two as you have requested it because Mpuwu told us that you three share three guns and one of them has a slight firing problem. Because you are in a dangerous area, you each need a good weapon. We have also sent you 50 used clothes. It is good enough to start with less clothes and progressively add more in the months to come. We have given you a lot of shorts because they like the shorts better than trousers or shirts. We are also sending a bushel of corn and another bushel of flour to make bread.
We pray for your prosperity. Senior Priest Pascal.
Jean was happy to receive the two guns, clothes and food. But he was even happier to hear that his plan of withholding ammunition was the same was the chief suggested. That meant that he was going to be good at his job, and at such a young age, too! Now his dream has come true, to have a lot money and expand his knowledge in the world.
The next day, when the chief learned the cost of guns, he mobilized the people to collect the cotton in the bushes and start planting the more domestic varieties of cottons and coffee, because they grew faster and bigger.
The villagers were busy packing cotton parcels when the chief sent his Malombi to call Jean for the gun negotiation. Jean and his two porters went to meet the chief. The chief received them at his second's wife place, where they had a very big yard and the chief was surrounded by ten warriors.
�I am happy that you responded to my call. I have mobilized the villagers and told them to collect and plant more of the cotton and coffee you need. I think you saw some of the people bringing to your place some cotton already?�
�Yes, we did see many people coming with cotton this morning.�
�We didn�t finish the talk about that decorated stick. I want to negotiate now about the price.�
�For the gun.�
�Yes, gun, another difficult word to say. I see that the man you sent is back finally.�
�I am sorry, Mfumu, for this delay. He arrived late yesterday and we planned to meet you later today.�
�That is good. I think about that stick every day now. I do not like leaders who get crazy about things. I think that you perhaps lied to me, and you do not want to give away your power.�
�My trading partner was not happy to learn that I wanted to give away the gun.�
Mfumu�s eyes turned sour. �I hoped that you would start thinking of this place as your home. But if you start tricking me, then it cannot be your home, after all.� He smiled just as quickly. �I will give you a lot of cotton, domestic animals and also I will give you all three nice beautiful ladies. I will call all the beautiful ladies in the land of my ancestors and you will choose from those ladies.�
Jean realized that the king wanted the gun very badly, and increased the price, even higher than what the priest suggested. �It is a good offer but I need eighteen tons of cottons for this gun.�
�How big is eighteen tons cotton?�
�It is about four full rooms or houses.�
�I will double the offer. I will give you eight rooms full of cotton and one room full of coffee because we have little coffee in our land. I will give fifty cows and also young women of your choice from 12 years old to 18 years old.�
�It is a good offer but��
The two porters called Jean aside. Jean waved to the chief that he must have a private discussion first.
Mpuwu said, �Jean I will take one woman.�
Kinwa agreed. �I have a fiancee at Boma but I will have one woman here and one in Boma. What about you, Jean?�
Jean realized that the Africans had less trouble than he with the idea of marriage, because for them it seemed more about having children and less about the real state of love that his mother often told him about, when she talked about his father. He wanted to ask her what she would think of him if he married just to have children. �I have to contact my mother first, may be she may be shocked to learn that in less than two months that I left her I have already a wife!�
�Why every time you must to mention your mother?�
�My mother is all to me. I will never hurt her.�
�You are big enough to stop sleeping with your mother and sleep with a wife.�
Jean nearly objected vigorously until he saw they were teasing him. �I understand but the timing for me is not right.�
�You will regret this chance one day. Look, they present you fresh and energetic women by the hundred and all you have to do is to choose.�
�Not now.�
�When? Because the chief will want to know and you will not want to keep insulting him.�
�Tell me when you get those wives that we will live next door to avoid unpleasant incidents.�
�Of course, we come together and we have to live together. Next to each other.�
They returned in the negotiation table. Mfumu felt the answer would be good by the faces of the newcomers when they returned.
�I think you have made up your mind.�
�Yes, my two friends here will take the women, but me, I will take all other things you offered. I have to finish some personal business first before having a wife.�
The chief clapped his hands and several women stepped forward but Jean waved his hands no. �Let�s wait yet. This week we go to Kimbuzi to give to my brothers our products. In two week�s time I will need some ten people to help us to carry the products to Kimbunzi, which is a hard road but only thirty miles.�
�No problems. I will give you my people plus our traditional trailers to help you carry the products. I will have all the young ladies, these here now, and others, brought to you in the next week for you to make your choices at your leisure. Only the most beautiful virgin girls you will choose from.�
�We have agreed to everything. I will give you the gun now.�
The chief eyed the stick eagerly. But he did not take it. �Is it the elephant gun?�
�No. That will come next time. First you must prove yourself worthy of owning this smaller gun. This one will kill the antelope, and even the lion.�
�It must work in my hands before the deal is consummated.�
Jean knew the gun wasn�t loaded. He sighed. �I must prepare it first.� He looked up at the sky while loading as though daring it to rain. When he finished he handed the gun to Mfumu. �I gave it the magic powder it must have to work. Now this time, do not aim it at a villager. If you kill even one human with this it must be taken away.�
So Mfumu turned and aimed at a barrel of water. He pulled the trigger and nothing happened. He eyed Jean suspiciously.
�And you must take the safety catch off.� He show Mfumu how to unlatch the safety. �Now try.�
And the gun went off almost before the chief was ready, but he hit the barrel and water spilled out on the ground.
The chief laughed, delighted. �Now I have the magic. Now no one can hurt me!�
Jean didn�t think this was a good time to remind the chief the gun was useless without the powder. He would learn that soon enough.
�Now give me more of the magic powder. I will need enough for many days to come.�
This wasn�t going to make him very happy. �Chief, first I must know that you will use the gun wisely, not on humans, not to make war. Only to hunt.�
�Do you dare to tell me how to take care of my people and my enemies?�
�I do. Because I control the magic powder. I will give you ten bullets now. Then after the men have their women, I will give you ten more. Once I am sure that you have used them for a good cause I will give you more. Now you will learn to aim at small moving targets. Let�s go shoot us some chickens for dinner.�
When the chief finally killed his first chicken, he felt like he had acquired another force to exterminate all his enemies. He felt like on top of the world, everybody and everything.

CHAPTER 11
The chief Mfumu promised many times that he wouldn�t use the gun on humans. But he didn�t think of his enemies as humans that same way that Jean did. Jean thought that the chief was sincere because he did not appear to be lying.
In one of his dignitary entourages, there was a man who always disagreed to what he thought were the bad decisions that the king wanted to implement. He was called the yellow Malombi, the only man allowed to say no to the king. The king hated him quietly but listened to him publicly, as was custom.
But finally the king, Mfumu, began thinking other thoughts. "Now I have the white magic. I have black and white magic. Now I am the strongest chief ever." He had the agreement of his advisors to use the guns when their enemies come. But why wait for that? Why not go to the enemies?
He could try the guns out by conquering the villages around Kabinde starting with the Zonges closest relatives in the North, but Pomu, the yellow Malombi, will disagree. He paced in his lodging with only his third wife to watch him. �If I keep Pomu alive, he will influence other people to turn against me and if people turn against me I will be without power and may lose my reign. If I kill Pomu, I will have no opposition until they appoint another yellow Malombi. I can make sure that we never agree on who that should be.�
Yes, he knew Jean wanted him to only hunt with this weapon, but Jean was a foreigner and did not understand their ways. But now he heard a rapping outside, as though someone was stamping their feet on the ground in request to enter. He told his wife to leave him be, and he looked through his window to see Jean waiting to see him. �You may come in.�
Jean, very humbly, entered on his knees and remained lower than the chief, which was their custom in his lodging. Finally Mfumu told him to stand.
�Mfumu, great one, as I came to your village I had instructions on how to train you to accept our civilization and the ways of trade, with goods of cotton and coffee. Now that I know enough of your language, I must talk to you alone, to tell you about God.�
�Sit. Is this so that I will get more of your magic powder?�
�Ummm, yes.�
�Good, then I�ll listen.�
�Okay. In my world, there is a Christian God, named Jesus Christ, who came down from the father to give his life for us.�
�Where was this father? Up on the mountain?�
�Well, more like up in the sky.�
�Sky Father. Very good. And he has a boy. Just one? No daughters?�
�No. And he taught us the right way to live. To live in peace and harmony with all other peoples.�
�I hear in the North they get ready to war on us.�
�Oh, no, you must have heard wrong. Besides, if they wanted to war on you, it would only be because they thought you were wrong. Wrong in wanting to�eat people.�
�This is wrong? How?�
�People do not eat other people.�
�Why not?�
�Ummm, because it�s wrong.� But Jean could see by the chief�s puzzled expression this was getting them nowhere. �You remember telling me about the rules that your people live by? Be nice to the earth and all that? Well, our God believes that being nice to people is more important than being nice to the earth.�
The chief�s eyes widened. �He believes this? And he does not eat people? Then if he does not eat plants or animals, or people, how does he live?�
Jean sighed. �Let me tell you our rules so that maybe you�ll understand better.� And one by one Jean listed the 10 Commandments, rules that he wanted Mfumu�s people to learn to live by.
Mfumu only waved away the first three as insignificant, but he became more interested when the concepts turned to stealing, lying and cheating on one�s spouse. He listened quietly until Jean finished. �And these are the rules you live by? Nothing more?�
Jean thought of his own thieving of the past. �Well, we try to live by them, but we don�t always succeed.�
�It said nothing about not eating other people.�
�But that comes under killing.�
�Maybe. But if they�re already dead, then we can eat them.�
Jean sighed. �I think this is enough for one day. I want you to think about these things, and think about how these rules will help make our workers better at�working.� Jean ducked back out of the lodge quickly.
Mfumu sat quietly, thinking. Jean wants him to become what he is not. That alone would be reason to put him in the pot. But not yet. Mfumu wanted to remain a chief forever without any opposition. He will have to get the whole village to be against these foreigners now. That will take a little thought. For now he had only one thought left in his head, and that had nothing to do with any God that Jean talked about. Pomu. What to do about Pomu?
###
Jean told Mpuwu and Kinwa about the chief�s first religious lesson. After they had finished laughing, Kinwa asked him seriously.
�You were given no lessons about teaching religion?�
�Well, no, they just said to start with the ten commandments.�
�And what did you think would happen when you tell him about the Communion?�
Jean stared at him. �You mean about�eating the body�and drinking the blood��
Mpuwu waved them both quiet. �We have much bigger things to worry about than religion. I heard a tale on my way back from the priests. Our village is targeted for destruction.�
�What?�
�We were not sent here to convert and civilize. We were sent here to be part of a massacre.�
Jean and Kinwa were instantly alarmed, but Jean noticed something else. �Mpuwu, you do not look surprised to tell us this.�
�I�m not.�
###
The chief sent one of his bodyguards to call Pomu for a special meeting. When Pomu arrived, Mfumu first gave him a lot traditional beer.
Pomu wondered, "Why the chief is so kind to me? We are only two in this meeting room.�
But no one, even Pomu, knew that the chief hated him, so except for wondering about this unusual meeting, he did not suspect anything was wrong.
In their tradition they gave the best food to people who were being prepared for the pot. And to the animals to be fattened before being slaughtered. Slowly, as the chief talked only nonsense about his day and his wives� problems, Pomu began to wonder bad things. There was no reason here, otherwise, to give him the best traditional beer.
Pomu asked the chief if someone could bring his younger brother Mazibuko to come to them so he could give him a message. Mfumu saw no reason to say no and had the bodyguard fetch the younger man. Pomu began to tell his brother a story, as though it had great significance for their people, until finally the king left their side to go out and relieve himself.
Pomu then told Mazibuko: "I think the chief might be planning something bad. He knows I will never agree to attacking others, but only to defend ourselves. He has been warped by the need for the foreigner�s weapons. If I die today, please take care of my family and all wives�and know that he caused my death. Go now, before he comes back in and your face gives you away.�
After his brother left, the chief came back in. "I am very happy to be with you. I know that you are the number one advisor to me. You always make me see things two ways. I want to attack the Zonge to revenge our previous defeats. What do you think?"
"You know very well, Mfumu, that I can never agree to attacking others. We must only defend ourselves. Only in this way can we be proper in eating our enemies. I know that we have had problems with Zonge� but in the distant past they are still our relatives. They are no longer cannibals, as they once were, so that means they can attack us. But we must not give up our ways for them, or to be like them."
Mfumu realized that there was no way that this stubborn Malombi will ever change. He stood and with his back to Pomu put a hand on his gun, which Jean had filled with magic powder for the hunt tomorrow. "Jean, one of the foreigners, started telling us about his God today. He said that it is wrong to kill. But those in the North, like the Zonge, they lose their culture and they still kill. Why do we let them? Before long our land will be gone. Is this the way you wish us to end?�
"I think you are being too emotional. I see nothing in the clouds about war��
"I think your role of saying no to me is only when saying no is right. Do you not know when saying no can be wrong? Is that not what a yellow Malombi does?"
"I say yes when it good, and I keep and I will keep saying no when the propositions are not right. Why the use of calling us and ask for advise if you don�t want to listen to us? If we have to say always yes to your desire and please you, then I am telling you, Mfumu, don�t call us anymore for advise. You can do what your heart desires without our involvement."
Mfumu turned on him in anger. �Oh-ho and if I do that then the people will make sure I am not chief for long. Do not try to fool me.�
"I respect you more than perfectly. I know you as my chief. If I was not respecting you. I couldn�t have come here. I was busy at my place, when I heard that you called me I left all I was doing."
"You are the kind of people who are jealous of me, and wish to see me fail."
Pomu stood. �It appears that it does not matter what I say, you are going to jump to your own answers tonight. Let us pick up this discussion tomorrow when we are not so woozy from the beer.�
Mfumu stopped him at the door. �Admit you are jealous of me.�
"I will never be jealous. I know that you are the legitimate king because you inherited from your father as the first son of his first wife."
Pomu saw that Mfumu�s hand was on the rifle. He had seen the killing of the cow, but he did not understand the magic. That was their shaman�s duty, not his. Pomu thought that if Mfumu wanted to end his life, he could have put the traditional poison taken from the uneatable tree's roots into the beer, but he found he could stand and walk to the door. He didn't think that Mfumu could have the courage to order a bodyguard to stab him, because then the people would find out. So he began to believe that he told his brother something to upset him for no reason.
But now Mfumu seemed so upset there was no way to reason with him. "You are the kind of people who would turn the people against me. I will teach you to say yes whether you like it or not."
"Mfumu with all my respect I say no when it is time to say no and yes when it right."
The chief took the gun, turned to aim it at Pomu. Pomu put his hands up, at first in alarm and then to reach over and push the barrel away so he could walk outside. But he didn�t have the chance.
Bam-Bam!
Pomu looked at Mfumu in shock as blood poured from his body. He clamped a bloody hand to Mfumu�s shoulder, and then collapsed at his feet.

CHAPTER 12
Jean was startled awake by a gunshot and ran out of his hut. He saw Mpuwu and Kinwa, and several others scrambling outside as well. There should be more alarmed and running about, but he figured they may be cowering on their beds in fear. Jean ran to Kinwa, and Mpuwu joined them. They knew what the sound was, unmistakably, while others expressed noises of wonder.
Jean first thought maybe one of his porters accidentally shot of their guns and asked them, but they denied it. They knew he had given his rifle to the Chief, and all three looked over in the direction.
"Do you think that the chief have killed someone already?"
Jean shook his head. �He promised me. Maybe he couldn�t wait and went out to find a night predator behind the village to shoot at.�
Mpuwu seemed the most amused by this. �No, Jean, you have failed. You have made the big mistake of giving him a weapon before he was ready.�
�I thought�if I told him the 10 commandments, he would know better.�
�You think it so easy to remove a man�s religion as that?�
Jean knew then that Mpuwu didn�t like him much. He realized that he didn�t know much of anything about these two men who were supposed to translate for him. �Come with me. Let�s find out why the gun went off. Maybe we�ll be lucky and he just shot off a toe.�
Kinwa hit Mpuwu on the arm. �It could be only that. Do not be so hard on Jean.�
While other villagers just milled around outside in the dark, wondering what to do, Jean and his porters finally began the slow walk to Mfumu�s lodging, with the terrible fear of what they might have started by coming here.
###
Meanwhile, Mfumu�s bodyguards stuffed the body of Pomu into the traditional bag, very quickly and ran off behind the lodging into the forest. After they left the king celebrated the working of the gun, holding it high and giving a happy call.
�It is killing fast with less pain! I am more than strong. I have the white magic from those foreigners and my black ancestor's magic given to all kings who rule. No one can stop me now.�
But he heard those at his lodging, and they did not stop to ask to be allowed in. Instead, Jean and his two porters just entered, which was against the laws of his village. Mfumu aimed the gun at Jean�s belly and pulled the trigger. But the gun did not work a second time, even for his magic. �Bah!� He threw the gun to the ground.
Jean, unable to control his shaking in anger, picked the rifle up. �I have to take this away from you. You have broken my rule.�
�You have broken mine! You come into my lodge without being invited!�
Jean told the porters to stay behind him at the door and walked to the chief, trying really hard to control his anger and his fear. The King could see that Jean wanted to hit him, but knew Jean would never take that chance of going into the pot again.
�We heard the gun�s magic powder explode. We thought you might have hurt yourself.� Jean looked around the room, and then down at the King�s feet, where he saw blood. �It appears you did hurt yourself.�
The king looked down and laughed. �Ha! No, it is only the blood from my late snack. I always eat some red meat before going to bed.�
The king felt he had become very clever very quickly. He knew the foreigners were very reluctant to eat the red meat. Jean had told him that first red meat meal that there were stories in Boma about how some colonists were given red meat by cannibal tribe once, and after that dinner had been eaten, they were told that they had just feasted on human meat. The natives laughed and laughed, because the colonists had made such a bad noise about not eating humans because it was bad, and yet they thought that this meat was very tasty. The colonists tried to vomit the red meat but could not remove all of it. One of them, a priest, had killed himself because of it.
�Then why the gunshot?� Jean asked.
The king did not have time to make up a quick answer, but he did not care if his long pause made him look like he was lying. �Monkey meat. It is my favorite. So when the little imp ran into my bedroom at a time when I was hungry, I grabbed the gun and turned it into meat. Did you not say the gun was for hunting?�
The indigenous didn't have specific food for breakfast, lunch or dinner. They ate whatever food they collected whenever they collected it. Cannibalism, or so their oral stories go, came from ancient time when too many starved and they were in fear of dying off. From this came the story of why human meat was good for them, and what particular times it could be eaten.
The king saw that Jean was puzzled so he laughed. �Come, my friends. Let us celebrate with some beer, and I will share with you the monkey meat. I have it in the other room, where I was carving it up.� The king poured them each a cupful and waited while they drank. Then he laughed again and bade them to sit on the floor.
�I�d like to see the monkey,� Jean said, a little sheepishly.
At this the king abruptly stopped laughing and crossed his arms. �I have allowed foreigners to have their way around the village, and I could have taken a spear to kill you for walking in here without an invite. I suggest you do not tempt me to want to kill you again.�
###
By the time Jean left the king�s lodging, Mpuwu and Kinwa were long gone and he felt pretty drunk. Some of the villagers were still milling about but when they saw him staggering to his hut they laughed and went back to bed, figuring all was all right.
Jean flopped into his hut and soon fell fast asleep, but his dreaming was disturbed. For many nights he had no dreams but now they felt very bad to him when he woke up again. He had no time to dwell on them when he awoke, for he had slept longer than others and there was work to do.
He ignored one gathering because they were not his workers and went out into the field. He could not see his porters but one of his native managers was there. With his help ten strong men gathered the week�s worth of labor, more than 20 tons of cotton and almost a ton of coffee beans, and they filled the wagons to take this first load to the priest�s house. Jean decided to go with them, and talk about his nervousness to the priests. He was no longer sure he could trust the chief.
Or Mpuwu.

CHAPTER 13
This was the first journey Jean made since arriving at the village and already he felt so much older, and somewhat wiser. He left Kinwa and Mpuwu there and instead took two village warriors, men he had established a halting communication and trust with. Since he had been out in the village fields every day working with the other men on getting the cotton and coffee crops to spread over more and more territory, he felt he was in the best shape of his life but after walking at a brisk pace he saw by the ten-mile marker that he had begun to slow down, and let the warriors walk on ahead of him.
Nothing wrong with enjoying the journey a little more, he thought, and too, he felt perhaps that he was not in a hurry to see the priests, after all. He would have to explain his hard time converting the chief, and about the shooting that he had no answers for. The chief was hiding something-or someone, he felt sure. But why?
And then there was more going on here than he�d been told, but how would he ever get the priests to admit it?
He did not have a gun but carried only the traditional spear for protection, and good thing for him because the hyena came out at him from nowhere, alone, not in a pack, which meant that it was even more dangerous. But Jean had been on a number of hunting parties and saw the quick use of the spear. Even so, this was his first kill and he was nervous so the big animal got a bite or two out of him before he finally shoved the tip hard into the animal�s chest.
The warriors, who had been watching to see him make his first kill, came back when he stood panting over the animal.
�Well, thank you very much for your help!�
But they told him it was important that he do this alone. And then one warrior bent over the hyena and nodded. �Sick.�
Before Jean was aware what was happening, one of the warriors, who had accompanied Mpuwu to the priests once before, picked Jean up and they both began to run. They alternated carrying him, and running, until they got to the priests� house.
�Almost as good as horses,� Jean remembered thinking, as he became dizzy and passed out.
###
When he came to, he was in a great downy European bed and saw Jimbo sitting next to him. His throat was dry, but he felt he might live. �Where is she?�
Jimbo did not look surprised but answered, �Who?�
Jean thought hard, he remembered seeing her, she had given him water and brushed his cheek, and then was gone again. �Agatha.�
Jimbo seemed as though he wanted to lie, and then shrugged. �She must be one of the women brought here from Bomo. You arrival has great circumstance. There are several Belgian administrators here to discuss progress in this southern sector.�
Jean tried to sit up but couldn�t. �I need to talk, so many things.�
Jimbo pushed him back down. �Of course you do. But right now, just be thankful you�re alive. That animal had been rabid. We keep all medicines here.�
�My warriors��
�They were well cared for, and sent back to their village. Arnold has agreed to give you better transportation for between here and the village so you can keep in touch more quickly.�
�Better?�
�My boy, we thought we�d be getting some product from you by now.�
Jean blinked, suddenly embarrassed. �Yes, it is ready, and Kinwa is making arrangements to send it here. He will come with 10 warriors as aides and requests for needed goods. I came alone, ahead, because I would be quicker. Things�have happened. Can I get counsel, so that I can say what I have to say to all at once?�
Jimbo stood and patted his hand. �You�ll need to eat. I�ll send in some food.�
As he walked out, Jean called out, �And Agatha!� But he received no gratifying response.
Jean laid his head back again, but his mind was spinning. He had asked for counsel, but he had so much to say that he might forget it all. He looked at the bedstand, and found writing tools that Jimbo had been using while he sat there, with pages torn out. He quickly picked it up and scribbled down the most important thing, to give to Jimbo privately.
Keep the money that you may get. I have to buy a property in Belgium. My mother don�t own an house, the biggest fortune in life is a property. Take your 10 tons for your two guns. If there a possibility send to my mother 500 franc. Her address is:
Madame Bourgoise Marie
123 ,Avenue Saint Paul
Bruxelle ,Belgium
My two porters need 10% of each operations. Kinwa may tell you more about their family addresses in Boma.
There was nothing more he could do but wait for counsel to begin, and for his food, and he was hungry. He wrote a list of things to discuss in counsel: more crops need more fertilizer; rumors of war; difficulties of conversion; the shooting; why was he really sent here? He wasn�t sure how to discuss any of them without sounding like a little boy, and that thought made him wish, for a moment, that he had died.
###
Jimbo held a counsel with the Belgian administrators first, because they knew there were things Jean was not to know about his assignment.
�How are things progressing in the North?�
Arnold, the spokesman for the Belgians, was a big, scowling man who suddenly looked pleased. �Couldn�t be better. The more natives we punish, the more who become violent and either join our army or try to escape, giving us an excuse to give them. We are building a great army of angry natives. What could be better?�
�But how do we get them riled against the southerners?�
�Now that�s what�s so interesting. Turns out that at some point in the past they had been related somehow. All we had to do was to spread the rumor that the southerners were planning to war against them in vengeance for something that happened in the past, and now the northerners are ready to attack to prevent being attacked.�
Jimbo nodded. �Had they converted easily, this all could be avoided.�
Arnold laughed. �You just keep telling yourself that, padre. You�re in this as deep as we are. Why do you think you�ve not been financed to do more work with those cannibals?�
Jimbo turned, suddenly angry. �If I believed those souls could be saved, I wouldn�t need your money!� He looked up at the doorway and saw the two women standing there. �This is a counsel and private, so get back out in the field where you belong!�
Arnold saw his women there and gave them an abrupt wave of his hand. Agatha took the other woman by the hand and led her away.
�Why you can�t travel without your concubine is beyond me.�
�It�s hardly like your house is accommodating in that regard.�
�I cannot have women tempting all these men of God here, now can I?� Jimbo�s workers were all priests in training, and most would fail, he knew, but not with women. No, they would fail to learn to be slaves for God. There was no harder lesson for them to learn.
�What about our counsel with Jean?� Arnold�s quiet companion, a Mr. Reynolds from the U.S.A., nervously wondered. He didn�t look the part of a twitchy man until he spoke and then all sorts of odd mannerisms emerged. This could explain, chuckled Jimbo to himself, the reason he rarely spoke. He looked like one of Jean�s warriors, except that he was white.
###
Agatha told her companion to go out into the field, but she had something else to do first. She found the priest delivering Jean�s food and waited until he was gone again. She saw Jean busily shoving food in his mouth and walked in, shutting the door behind her.
Jean�s eyes lit up. �So you ARE here. I thought I only dreamt you.�
�Shhh. Don�t talk with your mouth full.�
�What are you doing here? The last I saw you,� Jean felt his appetite drop. �You were in chains, and I couldn�t help you.�
�Don�t think about me. I�m all right. I work for the Belgian government now.� She stood with her back against the door, as though hoping to keep others out, but her voice remained low. �Jean, do not listen to these people. They are lying to you.�
�Lying? What do you mean?�
�They are not interested in these people, only in the land. I didn�t hear all of it, but��
Both of them could hear footsteps. Like a flash Agatha was at the window. �Please be careful who you trust.� She threw the window open and leaped out, as though escape was part of her nature.
Jean stared at the window, wondering if once again he only imagined things. He looked down at his food half eaten, as another priest walked in. �Good food.� He picked up his fork and started eating again.
�You will be ready for counsel in one hour?�
Jean nodded, grinning. �I sure will"

CHAPTER 14
Jean wished he had Kinwa and Mpuwu when he walked into the council room where so many eyes were on him alone. At least they would verify the things that he had to say today. Careful who you trust. Jean wasn�t sure he trusted anyone anymore.
After he sat, Jimbo got to his feet. The slender man wore a big grin, unusual for him, making his eyes slanted and almost giving his blondish hair a halo. �Jean, we are very pleased and really proud of you for this successful operation you have begun. We have the impression that you are at the right place in the right time of your life. God really have shown his hands over you.�
Jean nodded. �I am glad that you accept my word on the product, which will be coming to you soon. I would also like to ask you to begin to use my native name, Tumba. It is the name they have given me because mine is hard for them. This way should you hear the name mentioned, you will not be confused.�
He noted the surprised and frowned looks the men gave each other at this. Finally, although receiving a cue, Jimbo nodded. �All right. Tumba. They have accepted you well. This is a good sign. You can now tell them to do anything and they will do it?�
Jean didn�t like the sound of that. �Perhaps this is the best opportunity to give you the bad news. These natives are not so easy to convince as all that. I started with the 10 commandments to the chief, but he argued with me and made me feel foolish. I will say that their laws, which make sense to them, are actually---.�
Jimbo shook his head. �I can see that you do not have the right technique. The only way to teach the ten commandments is by demonstrating with your power what will happen when one of them is broken. You must have the strength to do this. Do you?�
Jean, now calling himself Tumba, could not believe what he was hearing. Sure, he had been in prisoner, he liked to take what didn�t belong to him. But he has never hurt another person before. He thought of the only way out of this that he could. �I no longer have that much power, as you know, because I have given my gun to the chief.�
At this Arnold leaped to his feet. �What!?� He turned in fury on Jimbo. �You know that is forbidden in this sector!� And he turned back on Tumba. �What kind of fool are you?�
Tumba held his ground. �The kind who goes into a world to do a job. A young man who has not been warped by killing.�
Jimbo put a hand on Arnold�s shoulder, and made him sit again. �It is time you know, Jean, I mean��
�Tumba.� Jean burned with the memory of Mpuwu saying they were to be part of a massacre. Could he even trust Mpuwu?
��Tumba, you are in a more difficult situation that you realize. Getting these cannibals to participate in the trading network is giving them access to a world they don�t know and may not like. The goods you bring them will make them feel rich, and that can cause problems. We repeat, money can sometimes cause many problems. We await our first delivery of the cotton you owe us for the goods you took last week. But in order for us to get those goods, you must help those people get civilized. They are still cannibals.�
�They are good people who sometimes eat their enemies. It is not party of their daily diet, as I had been led to believe.�
�I sense that you are learning not to trust your own people, Jean. This will not do. You cannot be a Belgian administrator if you do not follow the rules.� Arnold�s patience wore thin. �Tell us now, that the chief listens to you in council, or we will have to bring in the northern tribes to war against them, and end this foolish experiment.�
�Foolish? You�re threatening me?�
But no one responded. Tumba counted to ten, and as Jean again, replied, �I understand. In order to complete my mission I must coerce them into believing in God, by showing what God can do when he�s angry. I will have your first shipment of goods here by the end of the week. The workers are filling wagons even now. If you will train me the rest of this day, I will learn how to preach.� He folded his arms on his chest and leaned back. �Anything else?�
�Do not give any more guns to the villagers. Make any excuse you can. But we will not furnish you with any more guns in trade. That is bad business. They are our power and deadly in the wrong hands.�
Jean nodded. �This is very true.�
Tumba again, he nearly bolted from the room so that they couldn�t see him sweating. He would only say he was feeling ill again, and he was, but not because of a rabid bite. This bite, from the Belgian, was so much worse. Those people accepted him into their village, and now they must be converted or die? Such a mess he�d gotten into and he didn�t know how to get out of it. He could not control one side, or the other, and stuck in the middle, he would likely end up squashed like a bug.
He walked outside, hoping to see Agatha again. He wandered down to their tobacco field and watched the woman hoeing. He saw an abandoned tool and got on his hands and knees, plucking out the tiny weeds from around the fragrant plants. When he saw the shaded figure he looked up to see Agatha as she squatted down beside him.
�I need to escape. Take me with you.�
�You do not know what you ask. It is dangerous where I am.�
�With you I could live for a few days, instead of dying a little more every day.� She looked up, startled, and ran, disappearing into the trees along the river.
Jean sighed, unable to follow. He could not tell what frightened her, and decided she was only a ghost sent to haunt his life. She may be unhappy here, but at least she would live.
He knew he should do what the Belgians told him, because that was the route to riches. If he disobeys in any way, he�ll just end up dead, and for what? A bunch of dirty natives? He also promised his porters that they would get rich, too and with that first shipment next week, a lot of money will be transferred to their bank accounts. How could he give that up? How? Much of his money would be accessible to his mother, too. She will know he is doing well, and will be happy.
###
Arnold chuckled, nearly as soon as the door shut behind Tumba. �This is playing out rather well, isn�t it?� His associated nodded, grinning. �Playing right into our hands, he is.�
Jimbo shook his head, but with a smile. �Do you want me to give him conversion training and let him keep stumbling along?�
�Oh, he stumbles beautifully. I believed you, Jimbo, when you said that there was no chance to convert and tame those natives, that their own laws and spirituality proved to powerful for you. And now, with the progress we�re making toward war in the north, all Jean, I mean, Tumba, has to do is to keep making his faulty little efforts at being friends with them, and we�ll have every reason to call his little mission a failure.�
Jimbo sat down next to Arnold and looked at him intently. �But you promised me before, that you would try very hard not to kill anymore than you have to. Can you spare Jean�s life? It�s better if none of our people get killed. You know what the media would do to us.�
�Listen, if he is caught in the middle of native warfare, how on earth can that come back to haunt us? You worry too much, Jimbo. Go back to your fields and your preaching and let us take care of administration.�

CHAPTER 15
Pomu�s family started looking for him. Only Pomu�s brother, Mazibuko, suspected that he�d been killed. Mazibuko was a popular man in the village, but he did not have a position of authority. He did not know if he would be believed, so he kept quiet, at first. He had a secret plan that he didn�t want to reveal.
Some villagers continued talking about the shooting for the entire time that Jean was gone. They thought Jean left a little too quickly and wondered if he could be trusted. Perhaps he had shot the gun from the Chief�s lodge to make the Chief appear suspicious. Others did not think it was any strange noise, just thunder or perhaps the falling of a tree that died on its own. Sometimes thunder came but forgot to bring the rain, and sometimes trees lost their roots and fell over.
But then the rumor circulated in the village of the missing Pomu. Chief Mfumu called all the Balombi to talk about the missing Pomu and the coming war against the Zonge.
As usual the meeting started by a pray session and a drum beat in between.
The Chief said: "I am calling you to talk first of the missing Pomu. I don�t understand. I was with Pomu yesterday and he left my place safe, so I am surprised to learn he is missing. Maybe he went to visit some of his family in the northern villages? Perhaps he was attacked by them. Or perhaps he went to tell them that we plan to war. If we find that this is the truth, we will have to eat him, of course.�
Pomu�s brother Mazibuko spoke up. �His old family would not attack him. The only attack that can happen in the middle of the night could be by wild animals. He may have wandered off into the night, but no wild animal will come into the village grounds. Their instinct for their own survival is to strong, to flee when something they don�t understand gets too strong around them. No, something else has happened to Pomu? Does the Great Chief have any other ideas?�
�I? Why would I have other ideas?�
�You say you are the last to see him last night? But how do you know this? Did you watch him walk to this death?�
�It must be a wild animal. You say they have strong instinct. But some are crazy and will even crawl into your bed.�
�We have seen these crazed animals, but always we see their footprints. We hear our dogs bark. We sense them roaming, and hear their snarls. Did anyone hear or see anything to indicate Pomu has been killed by a wild animal in this village?� Mazibuko waited and looked around at the people gathered around them. Most were the king�s dignitaries, and he was surprised he was being allowed into council. He thought perhaps the king wanted to know if he knew anything.
One Malombi answered: "We are amazed by his disappearance. Let us see what will happen in the next few days. I still think he must be around, Mfumu."
"He is the only Malombi missing in our meeting today."
Mfumu became angry at all the faces staring at him. "I know that he is very important to our society, and our spiritual lives. We will revenge his death!"
�If he�s really dead,� Mazibuko said quietly. �You seem sure. But there�s no body.�
Mfumu pointed to Mazibuko furiously. �Kill him! I want his head on my plate for dinner!�
Two of the warriors who had hauled Pomu�s body away now grabbed his brother.
Mazibuko struggled as he shouted, and was hauled away. �You killed Pomu, Chief! Tell the truth! Tell the truth or all evil will befall our village! Tell the truth!�
Chief Mfumu sighed and wiped his sweaty brow. �He is too disrespectful. Those who do not listen to their king must die. That is our way.�
Two of his Balombi looked suspiciously at him. One asked, with his eyes averted to the floor in respect. �Did you kill him, Great Mfumu?�
�We have a war to worry about. One man, magical power or not, cannot stand in our way.� He pointed at the speaker. �You must not stand in our way. Soon we will have more kill sticks and we will gain back all we have lost to those northerners.�
Without another word the two Balombi, first one and then the other, left the council.
The rest of his advisors looked worried. This was disrespectful and the king may have them killed as well. But Mfumu only waved them off.
�Let us talk now, freely, what needs to be done. I have a strong feeling that the Zonge's people will attack us soon. It is in the wind, it is traveling like worms under my feet. The best way to defend ourselves is to attack them first and take control of their land. When we do that, we will chase away all those foreigners who rile them and make them do bad things. Zonge used to be with us under my father's leadership and deserve to be controlled by us. We will punish them now. We have to take control of them."
Those who were left in council were all eager to please the king. "Mfumu you are right, we must plan how to attack them, and do it soon. We are low on food resources in the village. Some of the children go hungry." Children were low in the priority to be fed, as they had little value until they were grown, and often died anyway, no matter how they were fed.
Chief Mfumu was not confident enough of the victory yet. He needed Jean to bring him those power sticks. But he also needed the complete support of the village. Those others who left were worrisome. They might rile others against him. "Do you think their warriors are strong enough to resist to our attack?"
"No way Mfumu, they are very weak, and spoiled by the treatment they receive by the whites. Some, I hear, work without hands. They work all the time, and at night they sleep at their guarding posts."
"How many warriors do we have now at your last polling?"
The Public Force chief responded: "Mfumu last time we fought with the Zonge we had 300 warriors. Now, of full age we have double that, 600, which means that we can keep 200 warriors to protect our village."
The war in the indigenous village was win by number of warriors. It was more a physical fight involving the physical presence and a large number of fighters. It was why the number of wariors was very important.
"How many warriors do the Zonge may have?"
The men, five of them remaining in the room, looked around at each other. Finally one spoke. �That is too hard to say. If it is just them, they may have 400. But they may also have others helping them.�
�What others? No others would fight a tribal war.�
�They may have power sticks, too.�
Chief Mfumu didn�t think of this. He puzzled for a moment. �Then we will need to call out the magic shields. Just tell me how many warriors they might have.�
"I think they may have 300 warriors in total. Those who still have hands to fight." Kalenga the Public Force chief responded.
"We have to attack them because they attacked us four times and will not stop until we are all disappeared into the underworld."
They had warred many times before, and they never came out the winners. Many of their people died or were taken captive. One of Mfumu�s daughters still lived there, now she was probably 25 years old. But even worse for his people was knowing that a defeat in the war was a lifetime humiliation. "They think that we are scared of them. Do we need a special training for our troops?"
"No, we have been training every day since the last war, as you instructed, Mfumu. We will be ready to crush them.�
Every traditional Public Force warrior had a special training. They practiced in the bushes for stealth, learned how to stab properly, and always, every day, worked on their fitness in running. In return for the diligence they never had to hunt but were provided for by their wives, who received food from their fathers and brothers who were hunters. The training for warriors was so intense that some even died during the training. But it was felt that theirs was a happy death, a good death, doing what was loved by the village.
The king was very pleased and readied the council to end. "You see, without Pomu things are going very fast. From today I say that there needs to be no more Pomu - no more saying no to the king. For into the future all will say the king is always right. We will never question his decision.� And he asked for the chant in assertion, which was slow to start and then became very loud, until all outside and heard�
But some became very worried indeed. For there were some who believed the king killed Pomu, and who did the wrong thing, because of the foreigners.
But inside the council all agreed. Kalenga the Public Force chief said, "Pomu is a good man but he also is a danger to us. We cannot hear no when we know it is yes."
Mfumu did not like that some in this council were puzzled by his mentioning Pomu again, that he was glad Pomu was gone. �We must try to find him anyway. He can be told not to say no, and still be a good council member. Go and mobilized the warriors, tomorrow night we will start the operation at around one o�clock in the morning."
###
When they saw Pomu�s brother Mazibuko taken away to the prison, his family became very upset. One waited until the dark night, his young son, who crept over to his window. �Father, why are you there?�
When he learned the truth, that his uncle Pomu had been killed by the Chief, he went to tell his mother, so that she could mobilize the fighters in her family. They had their own secret council, under the guise of a welcome party to one of the newborns in the family. They decided on a plan to attack the king�s family during the war, so that it would look like the Zonge people killed him. And until then, they would find a way to keep Mazibuko alive.
###
As it turned out, Mfumu�s war was only a minor with a northern village not very far away, and so small that Mfumu decided one gun would be enough, for now. Jean still had not returned and Mfumu was anxious. So instead of fighting people touched by foreigners, they decided to hit the friendly Zonge not too far away.
Pomu�s families� warriors were part of the war party that went out the next day, and they were all ready with their plan. One of the warriors ran on ahead and warned the Zonge so all their warriors went into hiding in the mountain. Pomu�s family all still had relatives there. They thought the war would be with the villages further north, touched in madness by the foreigners, and when they learned the peaceful village would be hit, knew they couldn�t let Mfumu be king much longer. The power stick had made him crazy.
Zonges used to live in the Kabinde village. Due to the dictatorship of Mfumu�s father, they fought and went to form their own village some eight miles away from the Kabinde villages. Everybody in Kabinde had some kind of relation in Zonge. Zonge visited many times, sometimes hoping to reclaim the land of their ancestors, but always by peaceful intermarriage. They also wanted to have some of their men to become powerful men in Mfumu�s council. Mfumu, of course, refused. He still believed they belonged to him. He wanted to keep controlling them.
But Mfumu never felt he was doing any wrong. The traditional administration was always a dictatorship kind, where the chief makes decisions and expects all the village, and the neighboring villages to listen. For this reason many new villages get formed, in order to try and escape the things they don�t agree with. There were already thousands and thousands of villages and each day new villages were formed.
Though the walk was only eight miles, the warriors knew it would take them two hours to reach Zonge. Zonge was situated between many mountains. The Zonge warriors went to hiding in those mountains after being told the war was coming to them.
The Mfumu troops walked toward Zonge. After only one hour, Pomu�s family attacked the chief by disguising themselves as Zonge warriors. Twenty of them attacked from behind some rocks, and they waited until few others were around the Chief.
It was a big mistake for Mfumu. He didn�t always go along on these war parties but this time he wanted to bring them luck. When these fake Zonge warriors attacked, he cowered on the ground and let his warriors protect him but still he was hit five times with the spears. There was a fierce battle around him that he could not watch but cowered on the ground, covering his eyes and bleeding. The Pomu Warriors and Mfumu warriors battled well against each other, because they were evenly trained, but finally the Pomu warriors, only five left able to get away, ran off because they could not get at the king any more to kill him.
Mfumu had tried to use the power stick but it didn�t work. That was when he began to cower because he realized that by killing Pomu, the power had been taken from him. The warriors helped him to his feet and ask him if he felt like doing more killing. But none of the warriors looked at him with the respect of a king that they had before. All felt he was nothing more than a coward with a bad power stick.
###
Jean with his escorts were on the way back to the village when they were met by Kinwa and Mpuwu, who stayed away from all the war talk, and ran off to find Jean when the warriors left the village. They told Jean they had sworn not to become involved with internal troubles. They told Jean that Mfumu has become warped by his use of the gun. They feared now that they would not have business anymore, or get rich, as they were promised, and they told Jean he was to blame.
All Jean could think was why he had been lied to. If only he could have found Agatha again. She could tell him more. They lied when they told him, "if you win the heart of only one man, the chief you have won the all village.�
Because any man could become corrupt and have an entire village turn on him. Even a chief.

CHAPTER 16
Simon began to realize that perhaps Jean was better off, after all. As he did every duty they called on him for, and as he did get to settle his craving to kill by punishing those who would not work, what he saw gave him nightmares, and made him fear for his own life. And all that the Europeans were doing here had the sanction of King Leopold. That made it right, and he liked killing when it didn�t get him into trouble. But somehow, the more he saw, the less he could enjoy the instructions he was given.
When his boss saw that he seemed to be losing interest in his work, he recommended a trip for some of the men to another village where they could see how well their program was working. The trip would take several days, and Simon hoped to catch up on his sleep. He wanted to rest more before Celestin give him something new that would tax his brain, or send him into the bushes with more surley Porters.
At around five in the morning, he heard someone crying. He open a small window and saw on the riverbank that someone was tied against a tree and being hit with a whip by an Porter while a Belgian colonist gave instructions with all his hand against his hip. This was nothing new to him by now, but this time, the person was a woman.
He went to wake up Francois who slept in the other bed. "Wake up. Come and see."
Francois had heard too the noise, but just turned over. �Oh, come on. We�ve been here two weeks now. Does anything surprise you anymore? Villagers need to be punished when they don�t work. And they�re all pretty lazy.�
Simon went back to the window and watched the scene fade away behind them. The boat was not traveling that quickly, and he could see them long enough to see the woman cut from the ropes and fall to the ground. He had never seen a woman beaten before. He thought all the villager women looked like they were hard workers. He wondered if he would have the courage, if told to beat one, if he could. Or perhaps he would turn the chicotte against the boss instead. He shrugged and went to the deck to sit and enjoy the air. He saw other scenes that he thought were not so unusual. Villagers being chased by porters with guns. He had done so himself. If they did not stop running, they would be shot, but shot not to be killed because they would heal and then make better workers.
He�d heard a popular Swahili proverb that originated of Zanzibar back in Boma. "Bunduki Sultani ya bara bara." The gun is the sultan of the hinterland. He supposed at the time that the man was right, but here he could see it. The weapon�s power has made the local people slaves of their own land. If those villagers had powerful weapons, too, no one could humiliate them in their own land.
Most of the Belgians had paid little attention to their king's flurry of African adventure, but once he got the land he wanted, land surprisingly bigger than England, France, Germany, Spain and Italy combined. He got his hands on one-thirteenth of the African continent, a size of about eighty times the size of Belgium itself.
To make clear the distinction between his two roles, the king of the Belgians at first considered calling himself "Emperor of Congo.� He also toyed with the idea of outfitting loyal chiefs with uniforms modeled on those of the famous red-class Bee feathers at the Tower of London. In the coming years, as he gained wealth from his conquest, for his main interest in the territory was in extracting every possible penny, he called himself the Congo�s Proprietor. His power was sovereign and the colony�s laws his own. His Cabinet ministers were as surprised as anyone when they opened their newspaper to find that Congo had promulgated a new law or signed a new international treaty. Simon wondered how anyone could be responsible for so great a land. Surely only one mind, no matter how strong, was never enough to rule. He thought that, at first, until he was treated to a visit to a villager not yet conquered and saw their council ceremonies. One Chief was indeed revered and could make any laws. But then, they did not have guns, nor a money system designed to make only a few rich.
Even though the conquest had been officially recognized by the Berlin Conference and various governments had been in the International Association of the Congo (or, in the case of the befuddled U.S. State department, both), Leopold decided on yet another change of name. He decided to drop the pretense of a philanthropic association involved in the Congo. That had suited Simon fine. He didn�t want to run amok of any do-gooders who only wanted to save Congo babies. All that remained unchanged was the blue flag with the gold star. By royal decree Leopold named the new privately owned country Etat Independent du Congo, the Congo Free State. But Simon was told just to call it �Congo.� The national anthem was called Toward the Future. At last, at the age of fifty, Leopold had the colony he had long dreamed of.
Simon tired of the scenery and longed for a little conversation. He hoped Francois was awake. He didn�t like many of the people he�d met, and wished to see Jean again. Francois was all right, when he wasn�t being snide or sarcastic.
Celestin at first had a disliking for Francois, and Simon had no use for Celestin, although he was the boss and disrespect could cost even a colonist a hand. When Jean went back to their little room, he found the two men in another discussion.
"I�m telling you, what happened yesterday was just a little misunderstanding.�
Francois only grinned. �I�d like to hear how you figured that one out.�
Celestin only glanced at Simon. "According to our rules, if a village refuses to the submit to the rubber regime, state or company troops or their allies sometimes shot everyone in sight, so that nearby villages would get the message."
�And that�s what happened when Tshakalaka, the king of Malinda, refused to allow his people to be exploited. I know all that. What�s the misunderstanding?� Tshakalaka, Simon knew, had inherited the power from his father. His father collaborated with the first colonists when in the beginning the foreigners seemed friendly. His people had been cannibals, but this chief started to steer them in a new direction, because farming had been successful and game so plentiful. He convinced the people to be peaceful. The villagers willingly helped at first because they were promised more kinds of farming techniques. But as time went on, no matter how much they produced, the colonists wanted more, and their people began to go hungry. So Tshakalaka�s father killed these colonists and presented his village with a rare treat, humans as food. The next colonists who came murdered him in his sleep and attempted again to take over the village. This time his son refused, and he was killed out in front of his people. That frightened most, but not all, into submission.
A number of them went into hiding and became fighters against a regime that they didn't want. In many villages, as the stories spread, they wanted the colonists out of they land and take their black porters with them. Some even pretended not to understand when the porters tried to interpret the white words. But this only led to more abuse. The colonists refused to leave the King�s land of fortune. When the first battle began with these �bush men,� the Belgian government sent the Public force-with their guns.
The Public Force had first been formed for good reasons, to end the slavery that some colonists began without asking for the right to chain the villagers. The Public Force even went north to stop the Arab traders, who were the last slaver traders, taking away the men and women in the Congo. Because they tried to stop this, the first colonists to settle there were considered part of the good people. They Arabs traders were well armed too. But the Public Force ended completely the slave trade.
But the new rule was to terrorize the stubborn and force people to work according to foreign rules. And it paid off for the conquerors, because from 1890 to 1904, Congo rubber earning and production increased ninety six times over. The wild rubber required no cultivation, no fertilizer, and no capital investment in expense equipment. It required only labor.
Forced labor. Labor that killed and maimed people who only wanted to be left alone. They were getting angry. They needed someone to blame. They could not blame their gods. But someone bad was doing this to them.
�That man, that reporter,� Celestin continued, after all three had been quietly in their thoughts for a while. �He was one of those people we don�t want around. A philanthropist. Someone who doesn�t have the slightest idea what we�re doing or why. He just wants to expose what he calls corruption so he can make a name for himself. Nothing more.�
Simon and Francois exchanged looks. Both of them had had a conversation with that black fellow, George Washington Williams, a harmless American, they both felt. Simon had been called back into the field but left Francois still talking with him. �I didn�t tell him anything.�
�Nothing? Well, I didn�t think you would. But when I saw you with him, I guess I overreacted.� You see, I heard only this morning that the fellow plans to write an article about what he learned here, and publish it in every major newspaper in the world. But I should have known you were too smart to tell him anything he could use. So I am apologizing for that whipping I gave you.�
Simon was surprised. He didn�t know Francois had been whipped. He stammered, �Who is this Williams, anyway?�
�Williams had come to Congo over a route that seems almost as if it had taken him through several different lives. Born in Pennsylvania in 1849, he had only scanty schooling, and 1864 he enlisted, semi-literate, underaged, and with an assumed identity in the 41st U.S. Colored Troops of the Union War Between the States. He fought in several battles during the drive on Richmond and Petersburg in the closing months of the war and was wounded in combat.
Afterward, like some of other Civil War veterans in search of work, he enlisted in the Public Force of the Republic of Mexico, which fought to overthrow Leopold Deux�s ambitious but unlucky brother in law, Emperor Maximillan.�
�All emperors should get overthrown,� Simon muttered. He was glad Celestin hadn�t heard him. He was too busy with his preaching tone to give them some history and why they must never talk to Williams.
�When he returned home with no job skills except soldiering, Williams re-enlisted in the U.S. Army and passed the better part of a year with a cavalry regiment fighting the Plains Indians. Sometime during the second half of 1867, during the Hancock War in Kansas, he met the young newspaper correspondent, Henry Morton Stanley. But he didn�t come to Africa with him-not yet. He studied briefly at Howard University and moved to Newton Theological Institution, outside Boston. He became a pastor of the Twelfth Baptist Church, a major congregation of blacks in Boston. After only one year in the ministry he moved to Washington and founded a national black newspaper, the Commoner. He published a book called History of the Negro Race in America from 1619 to 1880.�
�How do you know all this?� Simon asked suddenly.
�I had it beat into me. How else could I become a boss if I don�t know who to watch out for?�
Simon never knew if this boss was serious or not, except about orders. Only then did Simon have to take everything he said as true.
�This book was about Negroes as slaves, as soldiers and as citizen, together with a preliminary consideration of the Unity of the Human family and it included a historical Sketch of Africa and an account of the Negro governments of Sierra Leone and Liberia. If you fellows know anything about America, you will know that Lincoln for a long time wanted to send black slaves back home and these two countries were the only two that would welcome them. This book was published in two volumes.
�Later Williams won an assignment to write from Europe for a press syndicate. I think it was in 1889. He also tried but failed to be appointed American delegate to the Anti-Slavery Conference in Brussels. He found people in Europe who condemned the new kind of slavery under colonialism they were finding in Africa. Williams was the first person to propose that Congo be recognized by the United State. He gave a major speech to the Senate Foreign Relations Committee in Washington. Of course help for the Congo has not yet come from the United States, although a few more people than before are interested. I have his photo burned in my brain and the next time we see him, we let him leave a piece of himself behind.�
Francois only grunted and shook his head.
�Between January 1890 and the beginning of the following year, Williams sailed around the entire continent. He met the vice president of the Boers Transvaal Republic to the Sultan of Zanzibar to Khedive of Egypt and delivered lectures at Cairo Khedival Geographical Society.
But he seems to feel a personal connection to Congo, and keeps returning here. He saw things that angered him and wrote to Leopold. I can�t remember all of what he wrote, but it made Leopold so mad he wanted the hang the fellow. What right does one fellow have!? Leopold told his people. Now remember by this time, even his people were getting richer.
�Williams wrote that he noticed that Leopold's servants and assistants as colonists had used a variety of tricks such as a fooling Africans into thinking that whites had a supernatural powers, so they could get Congo chiefs to sign their land over to Leopold. For example, a number of electric batteries had been purchased in London, and when attached to the arms under the coat, communicated with a band of ribbon which passed over the palm of the white brother's hand, and when he gave the black brother a cordial grasp of the hand, the black brother was greatly surprised to the find his white brother so strong, because with an electric current he was nearly knocked him off his feet.
�Another trick was to use a magnifying glass to light a cigar, after which the white man explained his intimate relation to the sun and declared that if he were to request Father Sun to burn up his black brother's village, it would happen just like that!� And Celestin snapped his fingers in Simon�s face, causing Simon to nearly lash back with a fist. Celestin only laughed.
�In another ruse, a white man would pretend to load a gun but slip the bullet up his sleeve. He would then hand the gun to the chief, step off a distance and ask the chief to take aim and shoot. The Chief always did, even though he had seen the gun kill animals first. The colonist unharmed, would bend over and retrieve the bullet from his shoes.
�Oh, and don�t forget the gin and rum. These, too, became very popular with the villagers.�
Francois shrugged. �I still say he�s only one man, and there�s only so much he can do.�
�Williams insisted that Africans have the right to this land. That instead their children have been taken into slavery and the colonists now make them slaves here, working not for themselves but to make others rich, and just try to stay alive.�
Simon asked softly, �Well, is that true?�
�Of course not,� Celestin told him. �They just have to learn how to become part of the real world. For natives, who are not necessarily smart, and used to primitive ways, we sometimes have to use primitive means to teach them.� He turned back to Francois. �What one man can do? He felt that the courts were abortive, unjust, partial and delinquent. He thought that a white servant of the general governor went unpunished after stealing wine and then the black servants were falsely accused and beaten in front of their children and wives.�
Simon thought he�d seen a lot worse than that.
�So when it came time to punish these servants, they told them to go ahead and run. And then the officers made bets with each other who could hit the most natives with their rifles. All of the native servants were killed that day, and money passed around depending on where the bullets hit them. They fought over their kills like lion cubs, arguing over whose bullets hit which servants. At least this is what Williams said, but no one saw that he was standing around that day, so how could he know?�
�Williams went to the U.S. President Harrison and insisted that the United States of America had a special responsibility toward Congo because it had introduced this African Government into the sisterhood States. Then it was published in the New York Herald, the same paper that had sent Stanley to Africa, the following headline: THE ADMINISTRATION OF THE AFRICAN FREE STATED DECLARED BY AN AMERICAN CITIZEN TO BE BARBAROUS."
Francois nodded. �That�s where the bad press began, then.� He stood as though wanting Celestin to leave. �Well, maybe bad press was deserved.�
�Williams settled in London and became engaged to a woman, but he had developed Tuberculosis. It seemed that Africa had the last laugh on him. He was 41, and writing his memoirs, when he died.�
�Died! Then how could I��
�Because what once Williams created, the bad press, has now brought many more people here to investigate. All of them are like Williams. Are of them are a piece of him, and all of them want to see Leopold destroyed. So I ask, even though I trust you, that you not tell anyone anything about our operations without first talking to me.�

CHAPTER 17
The Zonge, in the last village not yet conquered by the northern colonists, celebrated their victory: singing and dancing in the morning. They killed many animals and called their friends from other villages to celebrate the win. With their friends came their colonists, including Simon and Francois, and with these colonists came the ones these Zonges new as the bosses of their fields, the bosses that only yesterday still only gently encouraged more product. Happily for these foreigners they humiliated the captives of war by marching them nude in circles, like cattle. They couldn't eat the prisoners that they captured because that much conversion had taken effect on them. They adapted the colonists� religion into theirs, in part, and remembered some religion that spoke of the humiliation of prisoners, which suited them. But they still revered their oral stories of meetings of all the peoples and the journeys to the sacred traditional mountain Umpanga for annual cannibal rituals. But for victories, now, they only beat their enemies and insulted them as weak and womanly, and made them walk naked in front of children and women.
Zonge's chief, Simao, after the victory celebration, stood on the elevated platform and called everyone�s attention to him. "I have to thank the God in the Heavens and our ancestors for this surprised win. But this war is not yet over. We will have to attack within two days and then we will finish them off and retake our ancestor's land, Kabinde.�
One of his Balombi spoke. "Chief, we have to finish the war because now our warriors are highly motivated than ever. We have to thank Pomu's family for assisting us in passing the news of Mfumu's invasion."
"It is a pity that Pomu is killed." Simoa said. "Pomu was our true brother. He saved us many time from Mfumu's attack in opposing him."
�We have not yet found someone else to say no to Mfumu. Without that, I am afraid true war is the only way. They are the last cannibals. Our friends, the colonists, tell us this is the right and true way.�
"We must first instill fear in their hearts and cause them to panic. Let the sounds of our drums alert them to the sounds of war tonight." But Baso, another Balombi, brought the back to the blood-filled present. "So chief, tell us, what we must do with those captured?"
"The answer is simple, let�s eat them." Simao said. "We don't have enough spaces in our prisons and we don't have enough food to feed them. It is better for us to keep our food for animals.�
Simon exchanged glances with Francios as some of the colonists protested.
"I think we have to give them a chance. We cannot be cannibals anymore, not with our friends, the foreigners here. Besides, we do not eat our closest relatives,� Baso reminded him. The Chief only shrugged, as the oldest, most willing to return to old ways. "Let us keep them slave in this land for those who cannot work. Our friends the foreigners will see to it that we have enough to eat, if we provide them more workers. If we can tame them, they can also serve in our Public Force. Some of those people are giants and will boost our Public Force."
Simao listened to more debate and then raised a hand for silence. "I think that you came up with an wonderful idea about keeping them as workers. Is anyone against the idea? Can anyone oppose me with good reason?"
The clacking of spears signaled assent. Simon and Francois saw that the other colonists were smiling. Will they get more food? Somehow Simon didn�t think so.
###
At Mfumu�s village Jean listened as his porters told him all that happened after he left. He explained to them his long delay, that he almost died, and made his first animal kill, and started to tell them about Agather but stopped because words weren�t enough for what was in his mind about her.
His Porters, after the warriors returned with the wounded Mfumu cared for him for awhile, until they heard all the rumors about how he was hurt, not by Zonge but by some of his own people for the death of Pomu.
Jean feared that the Chief caused Pomu�s death and had been planning to tell the priests when he decided that there was more going on here than he�d realized. He only wished, now, that he had more guns to give his people. He couldn�t say that to his porters-not yet. "This is not a good news for us. I brought back more goods with me for the product you will soon bring them, but now with this trouble, I am afraid we are in for more war."
Kinwa nodded. "I had once fought in the north of the country. And we won the war. Just the sound of the war coming often makes the enemy run away. And those Zonge do not yet have gun at all. We have three, and plenty of ammunition. We will win this war. With the Chief hurt, and not trusted, they need a new leader. I think we should show them that the gun is for war and for food, and not for killing each other in argument. That is all."
Jean sighed. �I told the Chief of the ten commandments. He did not believe me.�
Mpuwu was against any further war. "We have made really a big mistake in selling the gun to Mfumu. How come we gave him the gun? He killed Pomu and then almost died because of Pomu�s brother getting out of the prison house and nearly killing him. What more trouble will we cause now?
�Where is this Mazibuko?"
Kinwa grimaced. �They made him run the killing ceremony. I fear he may already be in the pot.�
Jean then saw Kinwa grin, and asked why that pleased him.
"Once you have the heart of the Chief, you win the entire village. Mfumu came with his injuries to us, and asked for you. This means that he trusts us. He will give you everything we ask for and we will be come very rich. We have to take advantage of this situation. I will ask him tomorrow to send his hunters to hunt the 100 lions. Then we will sell the skins to the priests and become instantly rich."
Jean was surprised. He looked at Mpuwu, who nodded. �This they asked for when I was there. It is against the tribal customs. They do not kill lions.�
Kinw and Mpuwu waited for Jean to answer, but instead he walked out into the dark and looked off over the fires that were dying in around the village. Kinwa put a hand on his shoulder. "Jean, what do you think of taking advantage of this war and asking the Chief for 100 lion skins and 100 Elephant Ivories?"
Jean shook his head. �Killing elephants?� Finally he took a deep breath, feeling older than his twenty years. "I think let concentrate on cotton and coffee first."
"Look, we should take advantage of the uncivilized people before they get smart. Isn�t that what your bosses told you? We have to get the wealth out of here before others come." Kinwa suspected that villagers already had plenty of other animals� skins under their bed. "Look how Mfumu wears lion skin from head to toes."
Mfumu did indeed wear lion but Jean thought it was from finding dead lions, not killing them, and he was the only one allowed to wear it. How would he feel if suddenly the foreigners wanted it? That might take away all the trust they had built up here. And how could his porters not see that? Although Mpuwu did not seem as anxious for this as Kinwa was. And he knew they were right, too. He wanted wealth as much as they did.
"I know that but let�s go slowly about this. First we have to get medical attention for our warriors. Can they survive the trip to the priests? Or should one of you run for medicine?"
Jean and Mpuwu told Kinwa it was time for his trip to the priests. Jean didn�t feel good about sending him, because he was so much more easily warped by the priests. But his instructions were written by letter-they had a minor battle with a local village and needed some antibiotics for the injured warriors, and more bandages. Jean didn�t want to send the wounded so far way in the simple wagons they used here, which were not comfortable and would jar them too much.
After Kinwa left Mpuwu told him that Kinwa had once been a fighter in the Belgian Public Force, so life meant little to him and wealth much more. Mpuwu told him that he, as an elder when he was recruited to be a porter, had more interest in the people and protecting them, even while helping them get into the trade, only because he hoped it would make the people more wealthy, too. Jean suddenly realized the trouble he was in with his two porters. They had different ideas and now Jean would be stuck deciding the right way between the two of them.

CHAPTER 18
Kinwa too knew the differences between the three men, and felt that only he was able to do what the Belgian government wanted. He was going to see the priests and tell them everything that Jean and Mpuwu could not. When he was far enough away, he took out the letter that Jean had wrote:
To Pascal the senior Priest.
I will be very short in this letter. I have need for medicine for seven wounded warriors. There was a little tribal fighting while I was gone. The Chief, too, has been injured. It is a long story, but it is African related and land conflict.
The exchange of goods to you is only slightly delayed because of this. Kinwa is moving quickly so he could not bring anything in exchange. But I am readying several wagons and Mpuwu will be starting shortly with this product for you. You will finally judge the quality of our operations.
Please pray for us and we will resume our operation soon. I want also to know if you have any special news from our native land Belgium and if my mother has received the money sent to her also.
Kinwa did not like Jean but he felt he had been able to keep from showing it. Mpuwu showed well his dislike. Jean could not become one thing or the other, not a colonist nor a villager. He was too young and has not been able to figure out his own mind. Kinwa knew that the reason they sent him out here was because he would fail. They wanted him to fail. But Kinwa did not want to fail. No matter how little Jean might interested in getting rich, this is the only reason Kinwa was here. He decided to plead for the priests� help.
He tore up the letter and threw it away.
###
At Mfumu's village they went through a period of mourning, for the two who died, and to bring Mfumu back to good health. They also mourned because it was the only way to share the humiliation of defeat. They also mourned because they knew the war was not yet over. Several of their men has been captured by the Zonge and were now, probably undergoing some terrible experience. They knew that the Zonge now felt they owned the village of Kabinde, and if they followed strict tradition, Mfumu would have to give it to him. But because of Tumba, and his porters, the villagers were hopeful that things could change, that perhaps the next battle they could win. They could hear the Zonge drums. They had less warriors and even some of the uninjured were not ready to fight again. In their tradition fighting always had a rest period, but with these foreigners, they seemed to know no rest.
###
Mazibuko was not in a pot-he had escaped into the bushes with the rest of those who identified themselves with Pomu. They decided that the time had come to break away and form their own village, perhaps closer to the Zonge although not part of them. They had disagreements with the Zonge which was why they were not already living there. They knew Pomu had put himself into a dangerous situation by spying for the Zonge and keeping Mfumu from vengeance against those people. They felt Pomu probably knew he would die early but he took the risk. Still, they would not let his death be for nothing. Mfumu was not yet dead. Once he dies, then another will be chosen, and his children were yet too young. Mazibuko knew he could call on Pomu�s spirit to convince the people that a new leader, related to Pomu, would be best for the village. That times need to change with the arrival of the foreigners. More and more villagers joined him in the bushes to agree with his plan.
Mazibduko regretted the failed attempt to revenge his brother's death. "That strange stick given to the Chief by those foreigners is also to blame. Our Chief has never been quite right in the head since his first wife died, and that stick made him crazy. We kill him, make me Chief and then we will kill the foreigners. They belong in our pots."
Mazibuko's last born brother, Yuma, added, "Mfumu will pay for killing our brother. My brother was a good man who worked with the community for many years."
Pomu's father had many wives and more than thirty children. These were his recruits in the bushes, and some of their friends, too. They all agreed that those foreigners would taste even better now that they had to avenge Pomu. If they could have eaten them right away, Pomu would still be alive.
These cannibals all felt they had good reasons for eating humans, even after being told by Jean Tumba in various ways that it was not a good or holy thing to do. They never eat blood-related people, only those of different cultures because they felt different cultures had different powers that they could use to keep their people strong. Eating other humans was to get the spiritual power to qualify to enter the holy mountain of Umpanga, a very important place for all the cannibal tribes and villages. They used to meet at that mountain with more than fifty villages at their yearly ceremony coinciding with the new rainy season. These ceremonies began to change when the other villagers were attacked and empowered by the foreigners.
Now foreigners had come to their village and they did not want to become like other villages who forgot about their ancestors. They believed the human's meat strengthened them. And now, as the only cannibals left, they were going to be stronger than all the others.
Yuma told the others that they must retain these old ways in a long speech that made them all nod. "How can we live with sheep in our homes? Sheep are treated like king and now support the dictator Mfumu. Sheep are like foreigners."
The reason justifying the Pomu relatives to eat the foreigner revereberated through the group that sat whispering in the bushes, their voices mingling and sighing in the wind.
"They got involved in their affairs for saving Mfumu".
"They bring clothes different to the traditional wear."
�They were the first foreigners to live in Kabinde and the first foreigners to be friend the chief. Win the chief and win the tribe-but we will be a new tribe with a new chief.�
They wanted the body of Pomu for the traditional ceremony, because his nails and hair were badly needed for that ceremony. They traditionally keep the revered body, too, even if the body is damaged like in the fire in the bush, they needed some bones for the traditional ceremonies. Once those part are taken they can bury the loved one.
But where to find the body? One of them agreed to be a spy and go out to take care of Mfumu. Gain his confidence and get him to tell them where the body was. They all agreed to this plan, and even though they could not risk a drum beat of acceptance, they all sang the traditional song under their breath, before dispersing back into the village again.
###
Mfumu welcomed young Betu to tend his wounds. She was quiet and subservient, unlike any of his family members who scolded him so much for not wearing his magic shield and for handling a foreigner�s weapon that didn�t work for him in war. He agreed that he had been told to use it for hunting only but he didn�t like to be scolded. He was chief! At least Betu didn�t question him but just sat quietly, waiting for him to need something. She was not yet married, and he knew that the other villagers said she was too thin to be of much use to the men in child bearing or working the fields. He asked her if there was talk in the village about the war or about who shot him. He had the feeling that it was someone who blamed him for Pomu�s disappearance. But it couldn�t be his troublesome brother. He by now would have fed the people�s bellies, because he gave the order.
She only told him quiet things, like who had just given birth and how hard the workers were in the field, and how grateful she was to be chosen to sit with a man of his greatness.
When he started talking about Pomu she only listened quietly.
###
When Pascal, the senior priest received Kinwa he was very pleased. The last time they met was when Jean had first passed through and got instructions-instructions that Pascal said he obviously did not remember. But Kinwa said he did, and he asked if there was something he could do to overcome the damage Jean was causing by not trying to get rich quickly.
Pascal decided to write a letter to Jean. He thought, and then started, Dear Tumba:
You have failed. Kinwa is now in charge. You are to listen to his instructions. He is to take the gun from the chief and not give it back until the villagers bring in the lion skins and elephant tusks. You listen to me, Jean, because Kinwa has instruction to kill you if you do not, and let the villagers eat you. You will be their Last Supper. And Kinwa your Judas. Do not do wrong. You are only a boy and Kinwa says you do not even know your own mind.
As another incentive, your mother will get no money and we will tell her right away that you are dead, if you do not listen.
Kinwa has the medicine requested but you will not receive any further help for those villagers. We have yet to see any product and yet we keep giving you goods. I fear that you have been tainted by these people. It is one thing to get them on your side, but another to become one of them. It is not allowed. You are to make them work and that is all.
Pascal explained the letter to Kinwa. �You can tell him that we are willing to talk this over further with him here. Tell him that we will come there if he continues to have trouble converting the chief. Once he converts the chief the chief will do the rest.�
Kinwa said, �Then you better come now because he is not even trying to convert anymore. He works hard in the field all day and says he is too tired at night for preaching.�
Pascal did not like this. �He gives a gun without God? That is a mortal sin. He did not tell us this when he was here. Now that I think about it, he did not tell us much at all.� He called Jimbo to come in and told Kinwa to wait outside for him. He might have more instructions for him.
Kinwa walked outside, but he did not like that he was being cut out of the conversation. They needed him! He sat on the bottom step of the veranda and sulked. He could see out in the field that the women the priests kept were busy although one kept stopping and looking over at him. But Kinwa lost interest in them. He had plenty of women back in the village, all wanting him to be her husband. He had not yet made his choice because he was kept well satisfied. He looked out on the trail that would bring him back to Kabinde. All the riches he was promised! Put in the hands of a young whelp who was not even honest about the kind of experience he had for this kind of work.
He heard first the sound of an animal or snake. Then he looked around.
�Mister. Mister��
He saw a young white girl, by her dress the same one that had been staring at him from the field. �What do you want?� It seemed odd, because most of the servants were black, to see this white one but he knew there were plenty of white servants in Boma.
�Do you know Jean? Is he all right?�
�Jean?� Kinwa was puzzled. He knew Jean was here but if he wanted a white girl, why did he leave her here? �Yes, I know Jean.�
�Tell him Agatha says she has a plan. Tell him---.� She looked up, startled, at a noise in the house and ran off again.
Kinwa wondered if he should tell Pascal about her, but when the priests called him in again, he became so absorbed in their plan that any thought of a silly young girl left his mind.
Until much later.
CHAPTER 19
The priests told Kinwa to tell Jean that his life was in danger and to come live with them at their house. They told him to let Kinwa and Mpuwu take all the risk in converting these natives, and they sent Jimbo to accompany Kinwa so that the message would be delivered without any uncertainty.
Jimbo had the extra instructions to start the very serious and painful work of conversion, the kind that either they believed in the power of the God in Heaven, or they died. Enough death was a great converter.
Jean Tumba was surprised to see Jimbo.
�Go back to the priests. Stay with them until you are older and wiser. They will train you but it will take a year. You will enjoy that place.�
Jean Tumba was puzzled. �Why did the priests call me alone to come-because I am a Belgian not Mpuwu and Kinwa because they are African?"
�We do not believe you are ready to get rich. To do all you need to do to get rich.� Jimbo shrugged. �And now I have been sent here to do the converting. I had to leave my warm room and rich food to do what you could not. I know that they will kill you if you do not fulfill the instructions.� He put a hand on the boy�s shoulder. �I like you, Jean. I don�t know what kind of life you had in Belgian, or what you were in prison. But I think maybe you are too good for this job.�
�I was a thief.�
�What?�
�What other people had. I wanted. I got caught.�
Jimbo nodded. �Can you not bring yourself to want their furs, their gold, their minerals?�
�They have something else I want even more. They have community. They ask me to marry here.�
Jimbo was horrified by this. �You are letting yourself be converted!?� He waved Kinwa over. �He will have to be arrested until the product is ready to be taken back to the priest. I will deliver him to the priests myself.�
But the sounding the drums told them that all immediate plans were going to have to change. The Zonge were ready to attack.
###
They called a villager to interpret the drums. He was a specialist in their communication and he was also a distant relative to Pomu so he understood Zonge drumming well. His name was Zee. Zee said, "They are coming to finish off Mfumu for supporting the three foreigners."
Kinwa asked, "Who are these foreigners?"
Zee answered, "You."
Kinwa shook his gun and said, "Let them come. They will see the weapons work the way Mfumu could not work them. We will kill them like flies."
Mpuwu seemed to disbelieve this interpretation. "What else do they say?"
"They say that they have to punish you so that your ancestors do not revenge on our prosperity. They will capture you and eat you once they return to the ancestor land." He listened to the drums as they continued. �They say our pots are ready and the water is boiling, we are coming to fetch our meat."
�That sounds like a lie,� Mpuwu said. �No northern tribe still eats human meat. They all have colonists now.�
Zee shrugged. �Perhaps it is only a threat to frighten you.�
"What about Mfumu?" Kinwa asked.
"They hear he still lives so they must try harder to kill him. They believe he killed their brother Pomu. The new message is that they want eat you."
"They will never eat me like a chicken. I am a related to the lion's race. My mother is originated in this land." Mpuwu�s words were taken as jokes by the others, who laughed at him. He was a stranger just for coming to their land with Jean, and now tried to show himself as as cannibal so they wouldn�t eat him. And now Jimbo could be eaten too. Jean looked at him and laughed again, seeing him as frightened as though facing a lion.
Jean saw Kinwa�s pack and remembered the wounded warriors, who they may soon need. He told Kinwa to go to the hospital with the medicine while the rest of them decide what to do.
Mpuwu insisted, more to himself than anyone. "I am a cannibal tribe relation."
None of them noticed when Befu ran out of the Chief�s lodging and whispered to Zee, who ran off into the bushes, just after the drumming had stopped.
###
Betu found the names of the warriors who had dragged Pomu off and one of them was still in the hospital. Several of Pomu�s family went to watch the medicine being given to them by the girls who were given instructions by Kinwa. Finally Befu was sent to sit by the side of one warrior. They all knew she was terribly persuasive, just by the way she could stare at them. Finally she came back out, it was getting near dark, but she had the location.
Pomu�s two brothers, the elders under Mazibuko, fetched Pomu's body in the darkness of the night. They knew war was coming, again, but first held their ceremony with Pomu�s spirit, as he could not have been released with his body trapped in that bag. The women cut off his fingers and and his hair and made sure that everyone had a piece to tuck under their tongues. Then the chanting began, but low, so that those who were preparing for war into the late hours would not hear. The Pomu society, as they came to call themselves, or Pomus, would be ready for war, too. But theirs was a different kind of war.
After the ceremony they listened as their advisors gave the wisdom the ceremony sent to them. One of them, Manda, had been an advisor to Mfumu and his wisdom was different than the rest. He was in his early seventies and considered very wise.
"You are all young to me, and none of you have had the years of working under Chief, such as I have. If we do this, what guarantee do we have that Mfumu�s people will accept any of us as the new leader?�
�We will make them. We will show true leadership.�
Manda slapped his hands on the ground, his way of showing disdain for the speaker. �Mfumu is the legitimate chief. He is chief of Kabinde, Zonge and you Pomus in rebellion. You have followed the footsteps of Zonge.�
"We are growing stronger and stronger now. Pomus are some two hundred people.
More ground slapping. The people around him became anxious and unfriendly. �Mfumu probably killed more men alone than all of you together." Silence. Manda grunted. �You know I have loved Pomu. He was my brother. He was a clever man in his entourage and my best friend too. But we also know he did a dangerous thing, by always saying no to Mfumu. The Chief always has a man like this, to help keep peace in the tribe.�
�Peace has been destroyed by the foreigners.�
�But we are more than they. I say we fight the Zonge as one people, and then decide how to handle the foreigners.� Manda, Mfumu's special advisor, left the meeting with two bodyguards.
The following evening the Zonge�s drums were louder, closer. Zee read the drums again for all to hear: "We are coming tomorrow to conquer the land of our ancestors. We have humiliated you and now we are coming to kill you in your own the land. Mfumu, your body will be eaten by eagles and birds and your three foreigners will heat up our cooking pot."
This time Mfumu had joined the people out in the village as Zee interpreted the drums. �They blame me for Pomu�s disappearance. You all know Pomu was the one to always say no to me. These men bear great stress in the village, and Pomu was not strong enough. We must as one people meet this challenge and show them who is stronger.� He saw that his people�s faces were filled with fear, and that made him feel even stronger. �If you cannot fight with strength and bravery then you must go and live in the bushes like the little prairie rat. No one with fear lives in our village. Yes, I was hurt in the last war, but as you see me now, I am strong again. The foreigners bring great medication.� He waved his hand at Betu. �One with great youth and beauty has restored me. I now offer her magic to one of the youths in the village, as she is not yet spoke for.�
Betu looked embarrassed, and fled like a fawn.
Jean had seen her, just for a moment, and knew suddenly that he would get married. She was the one he would love.
CHAPTER 20
Simon and Francois got back on the boat to ride north again to their village. They found their instruction in the art of war very appealing. Both talked at great length about how much they would enjoy participating in such a war. But for now they had to go back to work. Simon was given ten porters and assigned to push about thirty indigenous, all enchained, into the deep forest to collect more rubbers. Francois was given the same number of people to go in the forest in a different direction. But Simon found himself anxious for war, and when he could, he talked with a native who could understand him about war. He found that many of them would prefer war over these chains.
Simon felt amazed at the size of the rubber trees. Some of them were about the dimension of a small room and he couldn't see the end in the top. He wondered if drilled these holes to drain the sap would hurt them. He would not like to see this giant trees die. They had been standing here for many centuries, one native told him. Another told him that their tradition was very small holes that didn�t hurt the tree in order to make the small balls they used for their games.
Simon walked at the end of the long train of humans, behind his porters, and studied the singing birds and sounds of other animals he couldn�t see. Ahead of him they used their machetes to cut some of the heavy foliage to make walking easier. Simon would stop and pick up some of the chopped vegetation, wondering if any of it had any value. Some made marks on trees every few hundred feet so that they would be able to find their way back to Malinda. He hadn�t been worried about it, but was glad to see them do this. Many colonists, he learned, had been lost in the deep forest and never returned.
At one point the line of humans stopped while Simon was distracted and he bumped into the porter ahead of him. �What�s going on?� He walked to the front of the line. There were two paths opening ahead of them and no one knew which one to take. Obviously this way had been worked before. �Huh.� He pulled out his map. It looked like gibberish to him. He had a lesson in reading the map, but he might not have paid enough attention. Everybody waited for him to say something. Simon noticed the discomfort of the people wearing chains and looked back at the paths ahead of them.
�Looks like a tough route ahead. Let�s take the chains off those people, okay? I think they�ll be able to walk and to work better.� He figured that would distract them for a bit while he studied the map a little more. This was his first real test as a boss and he didn�t want to screw it up.
One porter, Shima, in his forties and very serious about his job, stepped over to him. �What you ask is impossible. Your instructions are against Leopold�s will, and of our superiors from Boma Boma to Malinda. We can't."
But some of the other porters took Simon�s side.
"Shima, a Colonist has spoken."
The colonist was considered to be superior to every porter, even if he had no experience.
But Simon understood that Shima was scared that some of the indigenous could run free. Even with the rifles each of them carried, the natives often would try to run, and they often could escape that way because they were like monkeys in their own land. they could have shout some but some may escape.
Simon turned to face Shima. �How much were you promised that you would want to do these things to people who are close enough to you to be brothers?�
Simon felt that people like him, colonists, were also suppressed by the authority. Celestin had given them the instruction that each indigenous had to cut and collect at least 10 kilos of rubber by noon, before they could break to eat. Each carried two baskets, one to fill before lunch, and one to fill after lunch. Simon remembered that 300 kilos of rubber was worth more or less 400 Franc, because one kilo was bought by a big Indian Company for 1.35 Franc. He thought 400 Francs was a lot of money. The porters would get half of the money and he alone would keep the other 200 Franc. The natives, well, they got to live and eat another day. Out of the money he earned, however, he would pay a 20% tax to Leopold Deux.
Still, it was quite a lot of money to him, a man who only a little while ago could have been shot for his crimes. Now he faced the chance of living like a rich man. And here he was, trying to screw it up by asking that his porters release the natives.
Shima finally told Simon, "Look, let�s wait, for a little bit. If we see our slaves are obedient we can reward them by freeing their legs."
Simon nodded and raised his voice high. �And if we unlock the chains and even just one native runs off, the rest will be re-chained and whipped.�
Some of the porters translated this, and the natives did not answer, or only looked at the ground. The porters walked them on the path Simon indicated. Simon wondered how he�d feel if he was a native. Their village life was over. They were not able to do their daily routines. They could no longer feed themselves, wear their own comfortable clothing. Some got very little time to sleep. They were given a lot of water because water was supposed to keep them from feeling hungry. Simon heard that one was given so much water, she drowned on the inside. He thought that was probably just a stupid rumor, because he could not imagine drinking that much water. They had no time for their families and friend. Their law and gods had been taken away from them. They could not sing their traditional songs or dance. They had to recite the 10 commandments every day, or get beaten. It was the way the priests could prove how good their God was-know his laws, and you do not get beaten.
They land was not theirs anymore and their life depended on the foreigners.
After Simon had been there a month, he was still not satisfied with how the villagers were treated. He had been told he would get used to it.
He spoke one night to his roommate Francois about his interest in the African tradition. "I don't see Africa here except the slavery scene, which I never thought I would see. The only noise I hear them make is when they weep and cry and scream when we hit them with chicottes."
Francois had been smoking and staring at the ceiling when Simon came in, tired from another day of being boss. "This is not a village. You must stop seeing that way or it will only keep hurting you. It is the port and our business place. Nothing more."
�Tell me what you know about the way they lived before we got here.�
Francois chewed on the end of his pipe a moment before putting it down. He talked but he kept staring at the ceiling. �Most of the time, when the village was defeated in a war, a large number of villagers would move somewhere else to form another village. Often the war was to protect the resources for the strongest group to fight for them. Villages could be built fairly quickly because everyone pitched in. The only needed big trees and thatch for roofs. They would use the sap to cover the roofs and protect them from the rains. They would build a fire pit inside the lodges to cook when it rained, otherwise, they always cooked outside. Sometimes it would rain for days without stopping. We haven�t seen this weather yet. They could build their houses for nothing more than a little backache. You and me, we have to pay a fortune to build a house. Not them.�
�Then we should learn to live like them!�
�Too many of us. Their system cannot work if they have too many people. That�s why they keep forming new villages and fighting and, yes, even eating each other. So that there are not too many people. That�s why there are so many smaller villages around. Do you wish to stop eating the French?� Francois chuckled. �No, our people need new land, and this land is easy because it is easy to control people who do not have the weapons we have. They found that out in the U.S. last century. This is the African century, friend. You�ll do all right. You�re asking the right questions.�
�I�ve seen some larger villages. Or remnants of them, I guess.�
�The biggest villages had the best chiefs. They had many goods to trade, and they had the best religions. But the colonists also found them to be the easiest to destroy.�
�Are there no villages around that are still at least partly African? Do I have to go visit the cannibals?�
Francois laughed. �You would come back missing a limb, perhaps! Tell you what, you and I get tomorrow off. Let�s find a boat that will take us on the Aruwini River. I think I know just the village to show you.�
�Why boat? Too far to walk?�
�Oh, friend, it is a day off. Are you not yet tired of walking?�
The next day Simon realized it was a good idea to take canoe with several porters to be his bodyguards, interpretors and helpers. Francois at the last minute became ill, and could not go, but sent his porter Buddy along who knew the village well.
At first Simon thought they might not get away because the Malinda Public Force, called Kibalanga, had reason to believe there were spies in the area-someone who wanted to carry on Williams� work, they thought, but after checking Simon�s canoe carefully, they were allowed to travel on.
The travel took most of the morning, during which time they passed village after village that had been ravaged by disease and death and all the people just sat around, looking sad. Simon felt sad with them, because he couldn�t yet just see them as workers. He kept trying to imagine what it would be like to be in his own home but forced to work for hardly any food.
Simon had a dream that he never shared with Francois, or even Jean. He dreamed of owning a gorilla. He once read about a French man from West Africa, Paul Belloni Du Cahillu, who praised the use of gorillas skins and who went around the country displaying skeletons of gorillas, with stories about how gorillas were great hairy beasts who abducted women to their jungle lairs for mates. His stories were vile and lurid and people loved them. He wanted to won a gorilla. While in Boma Boma he saw many gorilla but they were going to be sold in Europe and other part of the world to zoos and to private people who had plenty of money.
He hoped that he could catch a baby one in the forest but has yet to see one. The mothers guard them carefully but he was getting to be a pretty good shot with this rifle. One of his porters shot a gorilla but it had been full grown and mean. He wanted one he could raise himself to love him. The porter who shot it carved up the meat and he refused to taste it. That would be like cannibalism to him.
Finally they came to land that was green, and in the distance they saw the recognizable smoke of a village campfire. Simon jumped out of the canoe and stretched. Three hours was a long time to sit so still. Simon wished he were alone to visit that village but he knew that could be dangerous, too. Yet, it was because it was dangerous he wanted to do it.
When Buddy jumped out next to him he scolded Simon for being careless. If they get out of the canoe at the wrong time they could all tip over and get eaten by the crocodiles. Simon didn�t think the crocodiles looked so bad, but he didn�t say so to Buddy. He saw one with big teeth go after a native once, and everyone around was frightened, but it didn�t bother him any. He supposed it would if it went after him. He�d worry about that if it happened.
They arrived near the village and could see black smoke from many Thatcher house and Simon knew immediately. "There is life here."
People chatted and sang, kids running here and there in the street while women could cook. This was different than the war victory party. This was a village where they had taken well to the conversion but were not yet being made to work because no work had yet been found for them. Several explorers were nearby, looking for diamonds, so that could change soon.
This village was called Moto. He felt in love immediately with the village. Buddy told Simon to follow his lead, because here they had to follow the African rules. When you arrive in the village you go immediately to see the dignitaries of the village without talking to anyone else. That was very important.
One child ran up to them but Buddy said do not speak to him.
The child was grinning happily and held up a hand. "Bonjour."
Simon responded with pleasure. "Bonjour."
Buddy grabbed his arm and yanked him away.
�Well, he talked first.�
While waking to the king�s house, Simon saw another running kid, probably about five or so. But he was much lighter skinned than the rest. Simon knew what that meant. He wondered if her mother could have been raped or forced to love a colonist. Or maybe she really did, and then before he knew she was pregnant he left her. And maybe now no man in her village would have her. "At least here there is life."
Buddy heard him say this aloud. "Simon, don't jump into conclusion. Maybe there are worse things than Malinda's forced labor."

CHAPTER 21
Musonda backed Buddy in telling Simon: "You never know until you see from yourself."
They had only been a few minutes in the village and Simon knew that there was a difference with Malinda but he worried about what he could possibly find worse than forced labor. He was intrigued, too-what some people felt was worse, others might not.
They arrived first for a conference with Moto's advisor, Luebo.
Simon felt in love with Luebo�s house. It was a clay house, almost like the adobe he remembered seeing in some books about America, but with many drawings at the walls. They didn�t need to frame artwork and hang it. Their walls were artwork. Simon wanted to build this kind of house for himself. He asked Luebo to show him the whole house, outside and in. these are the people they enslave? Why don�t they teach this kind of art at European schools? Maybe then they�d have too much respect for the people to enslave them. But right away he realized that without enslaving, he�d be the one in chains.
While they waited for the Chief to arrive, they learned a little bit about the Northeastern African country Egypt�s pyramids and art. But Luebo did not mention one person as an artist from the Sub Sahara. He waved off his wall art as nothing more than scribblings, but to Simon they were beautiful. Even the pot and the chair in the house where drawn with animal figures. He found this fascinating. He imagined war coming to this town and these houses getting all destroyed. Shame.
A woman Luebo did not introduce brought them food and African palm wine.
Simon realized what was missing in Malinda. They haven't only killed the chief but they have killed the African value system. He heard heard Africans were happy people sharing food, even when they had little, with everybody. Another colonist told him that before Europeans arrived, Africans all greet each other as family, all one big extended family, that as long as the villages were far enough apart, there were no wars.
Finally after a moment of silence, Luebo, who still wore much of the traditional animal skin clothing, asked, "What can I do for you, my lord?"
Simon was surprised. Buddy explained that this is a common question, meaning if there is anything you need, let me know and I�ll get it. He only thought to talk with the Chief, as part of the tradition, and wondered why the Chief wasn�t here yet. He didn�t know how to answer Luebo, who was a dignitary in his village and thinking of a simple, criminal white man as his superior. He grinned.
�I�m fine, for now.� After another minute of silence, during which he came to feel right at home here, he added, �Although I would like to live here.�
Buddy quickly intervened: "No sir, we come just to visit. We have to return. We have a job to do in Malinda. We will get in trouble with Celestin."
"I want to live in this village, not in Malinda."
Musonda told Simon: "You will stay amd we will go back to Celestin our boss."
�Good. After this meeting you will go back to Malinda. Tell Celestin and Francois that I decided to relocate."
Musonda insisted, "You can not relocate without the authorization of the chief Celestin. Leopold has sent you to Africa under the leadership of Boma Boma, the capital. And Boma Boma has sent you to Malinda under the guard of Celestin. They didn't send you to Moto."
"I prefer to think for myself. This feels like home.�
Luebo watched the newcomers chatting. Finally he interrupted their argument. �We don't want problems. We don't want our village to end up like Malinda."
Chief-killing and forced labor made their way in horrible stories to other villages, who hoped to allow foreigners in without any kind of interaction. All Simon knew was what he saw.
Luebo continued, "Your authorization to settle here do not depend to us. There is the colonist chief called Charles who may allow you to stay. We stick to the peace agreement we made with your brothers."
Simon knew already that he wanted to see Charles. The foreigners got up to leave, but Simon asked Luebo about the drawings all over the walls. Who did them? Who made all the wonderful baskets and fine woodcarvings? He thought it looked familiar, almost like something done by Picasso, without realizing that perhaps, Picasso also came here once.
When Simon asked Luebo where he got all these wonderful art pieces, Luebo laughed and called his wife out. She showed them more-eye objects, cheeks sink, mouths well decorated, torsos, some eye sockets expanded to cover the entire face.
Simon left his house amazed. He asked Buddy to tell him more about these people of Moto. They were from the tribe Bolia. The king, who never came to visit them, was chosen by the council of elders and Luebo was a member of that council. Their ancestors appear in dreams to tell them the proper ways to live, and they interpret the roaring of wild animals during the night also as signs of what decisions to make.
This was the fluidity of these boundaries that granted Africa's artists a freedom that many European haven't discovered. But many villagers envied others people's work more than theirs. Luebo was teaching the newcomer that he was fan of Kuba's art. For him the Kuba were dignified, graceful, courageous, honest with open smiling countenance and really hospitable.
Simon, while hearing Luebo talk in better English than he expected, something came into his mind. Simon, who loved the tribe Bolia arts, heard one of them saying that he envied other people�s art. He said to himself, �No one loves oneself enough that he doesn�t love someone else more.�
It was why Luebo envied other's people art.
Luebo showed Simon a basket of Kuba art-a bamboo pipe plus a palm fiber coverlet.
Luebo praised the Kuba saying that they were the greatest artists, working in mask, sculpture, textiles, and elaborately carved tools. He said that the Kuba recorded ancestors myths, rituals, and crop yield in stories on their walls.
Simon, seeing Kuba objects in that basket, wondered if perhaps the Kuba got their civilization from Egyptians or Egyptians got their civilization from Kuba? He saw a cup made of mahogany. He said to Luebo, "I would like to visit the Kuba."
"There is no way you can visit them."
The Kuba chief, Kot a Mbweki the Second, threatened to behead anyone who helped foreigners and strangers by giving them the direction to their capital city Ifuka.
But the sad side that Simon learned was that they make human sacrifice and kill women as witches. Simon knew that many villages already have heard the foreigners� atrocities. He realized that in many part of the continent he may not be welcome even if he does not intend to mistreat the African.
After a pleasant visit he asked for direction of Charles' house, the colonist chief in Moto.
He could see off in the distance a modern big house painted in white and knew that it was the house of a colonist. It was too not like the houses around it.
He found Charles Benjamin smoking a pipe outside and greeted him. "I was sent to Malinda. But for personal reasons I decided to move here. They tell me you can make that happen.�
Charles looked at him for about two minutes without saying anything. "We work for the same administration. We are all working for the same man Leopold but your relocating here may put me in trouble with Celestin of Malinda and authorities in Boma, and also with our mother land Belgium."
"Please, I feel that I may work well under your leadership."
"We all work under the same rules. Celestin and I have laws to respect from our superiors." Charles finally stood and faced Simon eye to eye. "I will allow you, if you accept the Leopold rules and not my rules or Celestin rules."
"Yes. I will follow the instructions."
"I think you think that Moto has better rules. You may be misled."
Simon would not allow himself to be deterred from staying. He told the porters to go back, and gave them Charles� authorization for him to stay. As Simon watched the porters ride off without him, he started to wonder-exactly what it was he expected to do here? But he knew the answer. These people had secrets. And he was going to find out what they were.

CHAPTER 22

Some of Mfumu's entourage members met in Kabinde while Mfumu, still in hiding, feared his own Public Force. They called Mfumu to come, and hoped that he would show courage as a Chief must. Before the arrival of Mfumu some dignitaries analyzed the troubled village.
"This was caused by the death of Pomu."
�Do we know he�s dead?�
�He�s only missing.�
�Perhaps he is leading the revolt from the Zonge.�
"Mfumu would never kill Pomu. That is against traditional laws. He would have someone secret do it.�
�Look, the king called Pomu into a two-man meeting. After this we heard a shot of the gun given by Jean. The next day Pomu is missing. And Mfumu gave his intention of attacking the Zonge. Since Pomu was not there to say no, they attacked.�
�And they were humiliated.� They all knew �they� meant the Public Force.
�So this means that someone else knew about the attack, and maybe that is Pomu.�
The dignitary who most believed Mfumu killed Pomu made a very courageous stand. Mfumu could still have anyone killed who disagreed publicly with him. Pomu�s job was to disagree; Mfumu could not kill him publicly,but he was the only one. They all knew that the best decisions came from argument, and Pomu�s job was to start the arguing on all things. It was a dangerous job, which was why he was not to be killed by the chief.
"This is all crazy talk. I do not see Mfumu risking his kingdom by breaking a traditional law.�
�It is those foreigners, and that gun, that we have to blame.�
�So the Chief has become warped. Now we are in disaster because of the missing Pomu.�
There was a division even among the chief�s advisers, and soon they talked loudly against each other. "I will accuse you to the chief. I am very serious. You are hypocrite when Mfumu is here you all say yes.�
�Look the consequences of always saying yes. Yes, Mfumu, we will crush them. Yes, Mfumu. We have been humiliated.�
"You supported Mfumu�s bad decisions. I prefer to be the next Pomu�" and this started the call of many advisors to be the one to say no to the Chief. But some said there was no Mfumu, and they should act as a council with half saying yes and the other half saying no. They had some ancient oral tradition where this was the way. Some others accepted Simeo (chief of Zonge) to be chief, and others Mazibuko (chief of Pomu followers, brother of the late Pomu) to be chief, ready to punish the foreigners.
But Mazibuko was warned; "Then you will end up like Pomu."
He told the council he was not worried. "It is better to die for the truth instead of dying for foolish yes-yes decisions. There is no need to participate in the meeting if all we do is let the Chief do what he wishes. We forget even though he�s Chief, he�s still human. And we will end up blamed for all the consequences."
Several of the Balombi became upset and stood to leave, just as Mfumu walked in. They all exchanged glances, and all became seated again. What had Mfumu heard?
Mfumu walked in and took his traditional seat at the table. All was quiet. At first Mazibuko thought the chief was going to throw him out, but he seemed glad to see everyone at the table. And then he seemed sad. �I have heard that the drums say we have only 24 hours left before the attack of the Zonge.�
�That is true, Chief,� said one, and several others muttered their understanding and their fear.
"Yes. We have to admit that this may be our last meeting. Pomu, for years saying no, came to believe himself too much. We have always heard that is the danger of this position, and the danger in any village of arguing. I will tell you what I will do to try to save us now.�
Mazibuko stood. �I believe Pomu is dead. I believe I can show you his body.�
Another made him sit again. �We will hear the chief as long as he is still chief. If you wish to have him removed, you will have your chance.�
Mfumu nodded at him. �First I want to send the Shaman to go without any delay to ask for ancestors to save us. Go and pray loudly, with many animals killed in sacrifice. If this is not enough, you will sense it, and you will find the youngest child in the village to sacrifice.� At this command he received several surprised arguments, but he waved them off. �We have not had a threat like this since the last human sacrifice. We will not eat our own kin. But only in sacrifice can the gods see how desperate we are for protection against the Zonge. Remember, it is not the foreigners but the Zonge who can destroy us."
"Yes Mfumu."
"Please go now,� Mfumu insisted to the shaman, Mulombi Masengo.
"Yes Mfumu�"
Mulombi Masengo went to mobilize the sorcerers and witches to pray strongly to the gods with animals, and with hope that he will feel their efforts strong enough without the youngest child, who was also related to Pomu.
Meanwhile the king continued their discussions. "I was attacked that night of the first battle. You heard the story. I thought the gun given to us would save me but instead the gods saw that it was not my time yet. There are things about that gun that I do not know. I feel if we can learn, we call beat the Zonge with many weapons that kill quickly."
�Did you kill Pomu?�
The Chief stood and looked at each of this Balombi in the eyes. �Pomu, if he is dead, killed Pomu. He treated with our enemies for our blood.�
"Mfumu, I want to tell you we have to share the power with the Pomu followers under Mazibuko, and if we do, we can convince the Zonge not to attack."
"I cannot accept this stupid proposition. The only way they will keep peace is if we give them power. We don�t give them power.�
"I am sorry for my proposition. Forgive me, Mfumu." The Malombi looked suddenly ill and run out of the council house. Others looked around at each other. They did not want to agree with everything. But none of them were used to being the first to say no. Finally most of them looked at Mazibuko. It was time for him to prove his worth, at the risk of the Chief�s wrath.
�Chief, you cannot come up with a plan with a Pomu. There is no one here to say no to you.�
Mfumu stared hard at Mazibuko. �Do you wish the job? You know I could have you killed.�
Mazibuko suddenly realized his fright. �I would�but I will wait until after this war is over.�
They decided to come with another tactic, but first asked the leader of the Public Force to say how many men he had left ready to fight. Even Kalanga, the man in charge of the defense minister and security, wasn't confident of his own warriors. He said after a pause, in which it seemed he was trying to count, "It is scary the number we had at the meeting this morning. Out of 800, only three hundred came. The rest do not believe in this war, or are dead or injured. Many say relatives fighting against them."
Kalenga sighed when no one spoke, and continued. �We expect at least some 400 warriors from the enemies to attack us tomorrow. The Zonge are very organized and motivated when they fight.�
Mfumu nodded. �So you believe they will beat us.�
�We could get support from other villages.�
�No time. And none that respect us enough to help us win.�
�I say we sacrifice the foreigners and then the gods will help us win. The ancestors have abandoned us because we live like foreigners now."
But Mfumu shook his head. �They will rescue us from total destruction. All we need is to get more guns and then we will kill all the Zonge and keep their women. Yes! That is it. We will use the women.�
�Use the women?�
�Chief, you offered them women before. Jean has turned you down.�
�He cannot any longer. Yesterday I saw him looking at one girl with longing. He will have her for the guns of his �Mwehushi-Mundele.�
�But will that be enough to win?�
The chief nodded. �It will be enough, if they are the ones using them, and can make them work. Yes, if we can give them the World�s most powerful Satan."
The other men began to see. �Yes, the most potent of men�s evils.�
�Who is this woman he will take?�
�Betu.�
At this name the men seemed discouraged. �No man wants her.�
�Foreigners are different. They like women without plumpness.�
One of the foremen of the field asked to enter the council. He told the men that the first wagons were ready to go to the priests� house. Mfumu stood. �Excellent. Then that is another part of the plan. Getting more guns. Not in time for tomorrow, but in time to save us all. Get Jean and his two �black-white� for me. Do not leave until one of them is with you.�
He slapped his hands and laughed at the odd expressions around him. �Tomorrow is the day of marriages and war. Let the gods favor who they will.�
�In all things,� agreed the men in council.
CHAPTER 23
They went in the land and took all the beautiful girls to get married to the Jean and his servants. But Kinwa said that before he makes choices he must deliver the first wagons full of product to the priests, and before anyone could stop him, he runs off for the fields.
Jean and Mpuwu think his behavior is strange. Mfumu wanted to give women to the servants from the priests� house, too, but Kinwa took them back on the journey with him.
Jean greeted Mfumu, who seemed to be healing well from his war wounds. �I am happy to see that you have so many beautiful women in your village.� He had seen Betu reluctantly joining the women who desired the foreigners as husbands. She seemed so much less anxious, but he felt that made her blood strong, that she was perhaps not one who could be easily tamed. �I am ready now to choose.�
They selected in the land some 174 women, most of them virgin and single, young and fresh women to be married.
Mpuwu studied each woman closely, at times lifting up the traditional garb to inspect more closely. When Jean asked him quietly what he was doing, he said that Kinwa trusted him to pick out the one with the largest breasts, as he wanted many children. Jean thought Kinwa must want breasts for another reason, but did not say so to Mpuwu.
Jean turned to Mfumu, who was seated in a strong reed chair next to him. �There are so many. How do you expect a weak man such as myself to choose?�
�You may take more than one. A man who is weak can be strong in the bed.�
But Jean only had his eyes on Betu. She reminded him of someone. �In my country when a man takes more than one woman, there is often a problem with jealousy.�
�Jealousy?� When Mpuwu interpreted this word, Mfumu laughed. �Nonsense! You must take whatever you wish, and give me guns in return.�
The women in the culture do not have the right to say no once the man has proposed to them, especially in this case, where the king himself gave instructions for them to wed. This kind of show takes place when a chief wants new wives or in the annual ceremony to bless women who kept they virginity for the pride of their families and to show off to the new men who want to be husbands. This today is a similar circumstance, except that no man in the village was allowed to choose�only the foreigners.
The two men from priests, Ndeko and Pula, had been married in their land Kimbuzi but quickly changed their mind about not needing new women. The women passed like in a fashion show, one after another for some thirty seconds each to make an impression. Number 12 caught the attention of Mpuwu and he took her. Number 54 got the attention of one of priest Pascal's servant Pula and he took her. Number 57 was taken by Mpuwu for Kinwe. Number 102 was taken again by Mpuwu for himself. Number 124 was taken by the priests� servant Ndeko.
Betu almost refused to walk out. She found the whole idea degrading. She had become very independent in her role in the rebellion of the Pomus. She was thin, tall and dark-skinned, only 17 and Jean�s lucky number 149. Jean realized that she reminded him of a popular supermodel in Europe that he used to see in the magazines. He used to horde those magazines just so he could stare at her. And now here, she was trying not to stare at anyone, but felt she was better than the rest�at least, that�s how she looked to him.
"Yes, yes I thought of a fashion model! She looks like one of the famous models in Europe. I thought briefly of my mother, but then all other thoughts left my mind. As I stared at her, I thought that I was dreaming. I felt all my body shaking, all my soul and mind flying away. My mother's instructions disappeared. What a creature. What an unimaginable beauty. I never see this with my own eyes in person a more good looking woman. I cannot withstand her looks, her smile, her walking style, a pure and perfect body. She looks like she was designed and drawn by God without any physical mistake."
�Then go take her,� the King counseled. But Jean did not move. �What?"
"Mom."
"That is crazy. A man leaves his mother behind when he enters the piercing ceremonies. Perhaps you must have one, and you will understand.� The King waved a hand. �Very well. She will be killed. No woman who does not win the man deserves to live��
One of his warriors grabbed Betu and started dragging her away.
�Stop, wait! Okay, I will admit. She�s got my heart. I will take her for my wife.�
Everyone took his woman by his side and this included the shy Jean. The other women who were not chosen, seemed almost relieved, because they started singing. The choir came and they brought the traditional beer Munkoyo. The villagers partied, many taking advantage of the opportunity to drink and eat.
Jean never thought about getting married in Africa. He felt he only came here to work. And now he had the most beautiful woman at his side, a woman who seemed to welcome his touch, and almost fell into his arms. But he was also surrounded by women for the first time, women who were not at all shy about showing themselves off to him, in a way, for this European, he�d only seen in magazines. He used to hide under his bed with National Geographics he stole from the library, but even they were nothing like this. Jean had never had sex before and though he thought he could, he was not at all friendly with the feeling these women stirred inside him, the feeling that Betu threatened to make explode from him as she cuddled against him.
"Your wife is very beautiful." Mfumu nodded at Jean. �And do not worry, you and she will together learn all you need to. You will not be so confused for long.�
Jean was startled at this. �I am not so confused��
�I can tell from your face. You have been so much with a mother you do not understand the needs of a husband. But you will learn. When a ready mate teaches you.�
The elder women approached and the wedding ceremony was about to begin. Jean was glad�he�d had enough food to last almost a lifetime.
After the ceremony, which to Jean was a whirlwind of dancing in which he had to participate, including what to him looked like mules humping, he was declared married. He was sad that Kinwa was not hear to hump his new bride, who had to sit on the sidelines and wait. Kinwa picked, Jean thought, an odd time to want to deliver product. And then he saw Mpuwu turn over two more guns to Mfumu, but as he watched, Betu cooed in his ear and pulled him by the hand.
But the Chief stopped him by making a grand announcement: �Now you are all official members of our tribe, with families to protect. The war is coming tonight. Go and make yourselves men and then come join us in the battle.� And the chief held up the three guns. �With these weapons we will win and again become the rulers of our land!�
Jean felt sad. He had not wanted those guns to be used that way. Before he could respond, the Chief turned to him.
"My son, Tumba. These are powerful weapon that no one in Zonge possess. You teach my three best warriors their use, and we will make the enemies run away. Today is a triple celebration: your marriages, your second welcome and certain victory tonight."
Kinwa who fought along side the Belgians in the North, was not there to help, and Jean wondered if he was perhaps a coward. But Mpuwu knew something of the way the northerners fought, so now he spoke up. �I have an idea�from a story told me about fighting in the North. The enemies will not kill children and woman. We use them as shields. The guns are good, as I agreed by giving them to you. But also use them to surround us. If we do not leave the village, they will have to come to us."
Mfumu at first hesitated. But he was still moving slowly from his wounds, and would expect to be leading the war again. "That is the excellent idea. I am going to mobilize many children and women. All of those willing to volunteer. Some may get hurt, some may die, but the enemy will not purposefully kill you."
Many volunteered to join the party, most of them who had already lost a husband or brother, and others who thought they could save their fighting men. The elders blessed the wedding and killing many animals for the ceremony to last until the war began.
Jean allowed Betu to lead him to her hut but he feared that with all that eating and drinking the men would be in no mood to defend the village against the war that was coming to them. But soon Betu made him forget everything.
###
When night arrived the children and women shielded Jean's group, warriors, Dignitaries and Mfumu. The Zonge and Pomu' group encircled the village. Jean could not understand why Betu had suddenly disappeared, but then thought perhaps she was frightened. The enemy entered the village with little resistance. They crept through the seemingly empty village searching for Mfumu and his warriors. They began to believe that the women had all been hidden and the men would jump out, so they held their spears and clubs ready. They posted guards around the outside. And one Zonge traditional flag was posted in the center of their village round.
All of a sudden they hear children and women screaming and crying. They wish to capture them alive and so put down their spears a moment, and women and children run toward them, as though hoping to be saved. One woman reached the war captain and began to beg for mercy.
When suddenly the whole village warriors exploded as though from the ground and began attacking the Zonge. Panic erupted as the Zonge began to die but then they fought back again, trying hard not to kill the women and children who always seemed to be in the way. Finally one of them saw the Chief Mpuwu and ran at him with a spear. But a gun exploding, knocking this Zonge to the ground. All other Zonges heard the sound and saw the man fall and how no one was near him to touch him. More gun explosions sent more men to the ground.
In this confusion they Zonge started running away, followed by Mfumu warriors chasing them. Zonge returned to their home and Pomu's followers went into their nearly built village in the bush.
Chief Mfumu recognized one of the men killed�the one who tried to kill him�Mazibuko.

CHAPTER 24
Kabinde villagers celebrated their victory, feeling happy they had only six dead, three wounded and nine missing, presumed prisoners, mostly women and children. The dignitaries took the five Members of the Jean's group on their traditional chairs and chanted, sang, celebrated, danced with them.
But after the celebration, Jean had to figure out what to tell the priests. He kept thinking about what Agatha told him, about it was all lies, the reason he was here, and that was why he didn�t tell the priests about the Chief shooting Pomu. For all Jean knew, he had a good reason. Now Kinda would come back to find out there was a war.
Jean wished there was a faster way to communicate things. He was going to have to send a villagers with a letter to the priests. The two priests Pascal's servant decided not to return anymore to enjoy with their new wives and give aid and religious instruction to warriors here in the village.
I have the pleasure to write to you at this time. We are all fine here. There was a small fight yesterday with very few casualties. Now we are busy celebrating a surprise victory�
He flipped open a different sheet to start over. �There are things going on here that are beyond what is normally to be expected. They resist being converted, they love the gun I gave them and now they want more. We cannot control them and ask for more help.�
Jean scribbled that out, too. �I will be keeping your two servants here. They are adapting well to the culture and will take over the converting. I believe you will approve.�
Jean nodded at this. Finally something he could keep. But what else? He wanted to ask about Agatha but couldn�t, especially now that he was a married man. But Betu worried him, just a little.
She had disappeared during the war, not being part of the barrier of women and children, which made him happy. He did not like that idea, but realized that it was not his place to tell them how wrong that was. But she was gone after the war for a very long time, and when she came back, she looked dirty and tired, like she had fought a war herself. She distracted him then by taking him into their bed and making love like a savage beast. But she would not answer any of his questions, even though he knew that his dialect was pretty close to theirs.
He didn�t want to mistrust his wife already. But he really didn�t know anything about her. He turned back to his letter again.
�I trust that you have found the product Kinwa sent to your liking. I would like you to send back with this messenger verification that you have deposited my money into my mother�s account, as I have no need for any of it here. I enjoy very much my stay in Africa. I have never been this happy before in all my life. It is a wonderful continent with wonderful people.
Jean thought about waiting for Kinwa to come back but felt that it might be better not to wait. Something strange was going on with Kinwa and as soon as he talked to this porter, he may want to send another message. But this message is now a good one.
He sealed it and stepped outside to find a messenger. He saw Betu working on the food for the village supper and when she saw him, she immediately went over to him.
�Will you be sending another messenger to the priests, my husband?�
�Yes, I�how did you know?�
�I know much about you and why you�re here. Would you like me to find a messenger for you?�
�That�s all right, you go ahead back to your work. I think I know---.�
�Do you not trust me?�
�No, I would never say---.�
�I know who is the fastest in the village.�
Jean looked into her eyes and realized she was a lot smarter than he thought. He married her for her beauty but now he would have to contend with her brains. �All right. Here.� He handed her the message. �He doesn�t have to say anything, just hand this to the head priest, Pascal, and wait there until he gets a message to bring back. And he is not to let Kinwa stop him, make sure he knows that.�
###
When Kinwa arrived at the priests� house with the wagons of product, making good time even though there were so many wagons to worry out, he was only a few steps ahead of the messenger Jean sent.
He stood outside and watched as the priests tallied the goods, and then they gave him a receipt. Then the priests invited him inside to get an update on how the fields were growing, and how he liked being part of Jean�s administration.
Kinwa spoke carefully. "I am very disappointed by Jean sometimes. He gives them all of our guns, and he does not try to convert them. He had a foolish conversation about the 10 commandments and then decided that they don�t need our religion. But I amazed by his courage.� Kinwa kept looking around for the strange white woman but didn�t see her.
The priests all exchanged glances, and Kinwa wondered if they believed him. Even Jimbo seemed distrusted of Kinwa on the route with the product, as though questioning everything that Kinwa said could be a lie.
Pascal put a hand on Jimbo�s arm and spoke. "We will get him by his own words and know what to do to prevent the worst."
But Jimbo couldn�t be silenced. �Tell them what you know about the war going on there.�
Kinwa told them all he could. But they did not seem angry. A little amazed, perhaps, although he wasn�t sure he knew how to interpret their faces. �He allowed them to have all the guns now, and expects me to bring more back. Do you have more guns? We were promised.�
Pascal shook his head. �Yes, you were promised. But there are no more guns. You are right, war is coming to your village. You will either find a way to convert them, or all your villagers will be destroyed. Do I make myself clear?�
Kinwa cleared his throat. �Is that the final word. Convert them or let them be killed?�
�Oh, you won�t let them be killed.�
�We will keep using the guns we have and scare any of the villagers away who do not have them.�
�All villagers who convert have guns. Those who do not convert do not get them. Jean broke a major rule.�
�We�thought we were to become villagers ourselves, and then convert them from the inside.�
�But you say converting is not happening at all.�
Kinwa realized he worked himself into a corner.
�Look, all of us get African names. Being accepted into the community does not make you one of them. They can still eat you tomorrow. I have been called Thabang, which to them means happiness. Oh, not in Kabinde, in one of the other villages where we�ve had a little more luck. Jimbo and his servants are the first to go to Kabinde.� Pascal poured himself a glass of brandy and offered some to Kinwa, who shook his head. �Of course not. There are certain rules to follow when first you see a village. Never shout, never argue with them and giving them many gifts.�
�There are reasons that no priest has been to that village until now. Mpumu. He is a very wicked man, and will kill you before giving you a chance, if he doesn�t like your looks. We took a chance sending you three. Your lives were in grave danger the moment you first left here. But we could not tell you that.�
�I am going to tell you something now, Kinwa, that you are not to share with Jean, or anyone else. We do not expect these people to convert. Jimbo here went and observed them under your protection, and has returned to affirm what we long believed. This village has been marked for destruction.�
One of the younger priests, as though in a moment of guilt, shouted, "This continent will be better when most of the people are civilized!"
Jimbo nodded. �The only way is to rid it of those who prefer the old way.�
Pascal finished his brandy. �Jean was sent there because he is expendable � a Belgian prisoner that only his mother cares about. And his mother will be satisfied with all the money she receives, and will accept the news of his death very well.�
�Jean was too young for this kind of responsibility,� Jimbo added. �He would never have been allowed here if we really expected to convert them.�
�Letting someone like him have a position of power and money at his age�that�s very dangerous.� Pascal stepped up to Kinwa. �And now, you may know more than you should. How can we trust you will return and allow all to happen as we want it to happen?�
Kinwa shrugged. Not a word they said made any difference to him. �Just so that I survive, and am paid well.� That was when Kinwa noticed that one of the priests had been sketching on paper the whole time. When Pascal saw that he noticed, Pascal laughed.
�That is our security. This is a portrait of you. It will be shared with the northern army that is coming. Several will be sent to be spies in your village, and you will never know who. But they will know you, and will watch you. Instead of surviving, you could be the first to die.�
�Why even tell me all this?�
�I have the feeling that you would like to be set up as administrator, Kinwa, that you would like to be boss at your own plantation, that you could handle the whip well. I sense that, Kinwa. So you do as you�re told, with Jean, and the others, and you will be vastly rewarded.�
###
Kinwa stepped outside, this time feeling much better. He was on the right side of the priests now, and he would be sure to do all they wished. After all, they were men of God, and they would only always do what was right. And he, too, always wanted to do what was right.
He walked out into the field where he saw the young white girl again. When she saw him she turned to run away but he easily caught her. He tackled her to the ground as she continued to try to get away.
�No, please! Please don�t hurt me.� She struggled to get away, and then stopped again, burying her face in the dirt.
He gently sat up her. �I would not hurt you. I am curious about you. You wanted me to tell Jean that you have a plan. What is this plan?�
She shook her head, letting her hair hide her face. �I must tell only Jean.�
�How do you expect to do that?�
�He�ll come back again, won�t he?�
�Probably not. He�s pretty busy there, and usually sends a messenger.�
As if to emphasize his words, they saw a native running up to the front of the house.
Kinwa looked back at Jean. �Tell me. You can trust me.�
�Take me with you.�
�What?�
�Are you going back?�
�Yes.�
�Then take me with you.�
�How?�
Agatha thought for a minute, looking around. Sometimes I see girls get taken by men from the field and are never seen again. You can tell them you need me for a servant. You can be willing to buy me.�
Kinwa thought about this, and nodded. �Come on.�
He pulled her to the priests� house, ignoring the looks of the messenger. He watched as Pascal read the note he�d received.
Pascal nodded at Kinwa, ignoring Agatha�s piteous looks. �It�s worse than we thought. Mpuwu has attacked the Zonge and is right now readying thirty for his pots. We will have to move more quickly with the plans. There are a group of people there willing to help us, called the Pomu. Do you know them?�
Kinwa looked surprised, but he nodded.
�Good. You will take this note to the first man who contacts you when you return. He will say, �Sunshine not rain tomorrow,� that�s how you will know him. Understand?�
�Yes.� Kinwa watched as Pascal wrote the note. �One more thing. I wish to take this woman with me, as my wife.�
Pascal ignored him as he finished writing. �Wife?�
�You can marry us, no?�
Agatha looked at him in horror. Pascal laughed. �She has been a problem ever since she was left here. Jimbo, marry them.�
CHAPTER 25
The Zonge and Pomu followers met after their horrifying defeat in Zonge's village to talk about what went wrong and what to do next. With Mazibuko�s death, they needed another leader. One of Pomu�s half-brothers, Moto, thought he had the right idea.
�We must blame the foreigners. We had no trouble with Mfumu before they arrived. Sure he is boisterious and egotist, but all Chiefs get that way with power. You give him more power, and more power is too much for any more. These foreigners do not see that�they are too full of power themselves. We have lost our way of eating foreigners, because of some of the other foreigners who try to tell us it�s wrong. It is time to make it right, again.�
Others continued the discussion of why they lost, at first unwilling to consider attacking the foreigners who must have such power.
"We took control of the village and we even patrolled the streets of Kabinde all night long, only to be surprised in the morning with strong powerful weapons. How will we ever be able to get revenge on them? We could try sneaking more but would that be enough?�
�We could try laying out in the bushes and killing them one by one as they come out to bathe.�
�No tribe should have more magic than another. We hear of all the trouble in the north. This is trouble we do not need. This is why we give them what they want without letting them live with us.�
Moto spoke again, anxious to take command of the unhappy people and avenge Mazibuko�s death. He nodded at Betu as she indicated she must get back to her husband. �Many people are not supporting Mfumu's administration. Let us leave our difference now and see how to capture our three enemies. Betu, my brother�s daughter, is married now to one of them and she will help us. She has said so. We just have to plan as one head together.�
�There are more than three of them now. They have brought two priests to Mfumu and he is going to be learning more white ways. He thinks white ways are more powerful than ours. He must learn how easy they are to kill.�
Moto nodded. "Mfumu's Public Force were given their plans by those foreigners. We have to eat them or die for our land."
They talked about all the things they knew about Mfumu�s village. There were no guards at all in Kabinde's corners and entries. The village was not often protected by warriors during troubled times because they believed the Chief would know and alarm everyone when trouble was coming. Warriors in tribes were not like soldiers in traditional armies, who were employed and were paid that way. Warriors fought because it was expected of men, but they were also husbands, farmers and hunters. They defended their village by the love of their land and to preserve their cultural identity. The only time they protected their village was by the Chief�s orders because they knew danger was coming. Moto told of the day the foreigners came into the village�no one thought they were danger, not even the Chief. Moto felt he had been ill that day, and that was why his magic didn�t work.
Their tribal fights were also more physical with traditional weapons. They would use a spear once, maybe twice, and the flinging rocks and then used their hands and fight to establish dominance. Most of their fights took place at night. The only men who guarded the village were the drummers, who might see certain dangers and start drumming. These were special men, chosen for their talent in beating a message that might be hard for others to interpret, and for understanding the drums of others that attempt to disguise the message. They also drum out the emergency news and to tell hunters to return home. The Chief is always surrounded by his bodyguard, even during war, which made killing him harder. Mfumu had been hurt in the previous war but not killed. Two of his bodyguards had died instead, saving him. The bodyguards varied, too, depending on the phases of the moon. Many were given their strength on the day of the moon that they were born, and continued using their strength that way.
Moto finally felt he had agreement, and they were all of one head. "We will attack the invaders instead of Mfumu. Mfumu now is only a skeleton king. He may die soon, because his magic given him by Nature will hit a rock, and come back to kill him. He will die from sickness." Moto spat the words on the ground, like a curse. �But we have to eat them after the kill, because if we do not, their ancestors will come and revenge their deaths on us.�
From the crowd came an eerie voice, �Their ancesters � or their descendants.�
###
Meanwhile, at Kabinde, they were in a happy mood. While Jean made love to his wife who finally returned from her fearful hiding, the rest of the natives sang and danced and played their happy drums that told other villages there had been a victory.
Not all the villagers were happy. They sensed this was not the end of things, and they too blamed their foreigners for all the bad magic in the village lately. Many had already been unhappy with Mfumu and now they were forming their own rebellion. They talked quietly, fearful of Mfumu�s magic, and knew each other by a single word, Piti. This had been a family that once, long ago, was beat out by Mfumu�s clan for the chiefdom.
So for a long time they objected to many things Mfumu wanted, such as taking from them some stock and crops because he insisted his magic kept them healthy. They did not agree. And now they have even more reason to be unhappy. War.
CHAPTER 26
The chief Mfumu called an extraordinary meeting with the Balombi, his dignitaries, and Jean's group. Jean explained to him the Kinwa was not yet back from bringing the product to the priests, so Mfumu decided to wait, because he was anxious to see and talk about whether this trading was beneficial to the village.
Jean saw the wagons coming back empty long before he saw Kinwa. And at first, it seemed that Kinwa was hiding something. He had a wagon covered with the goods from the priests and said he wanted to see Mfumu and not Jean without Mfumu. Jean grabbed his arm as he started to walk away, to argue with him, but then he saw something under the covered wagon moving.
He called Ndeko and Pula over, the two priests� servants, so that he would have someone witness whatever kind of odd goods the priests would send and could explain it. Jean told Kinwa to stay as well, but Kinwa was not about to leave.
When Jean threw back the tarp that covered the wagon, he saw the squirming white woman tied and gagged. A thousand thoughts raged through his mind. Should he tell Kinwa he knows this woman? Ask what is the meaning of this? Better first to find out Kinwa�s story.
�Did you bring home a slave for youself?� Jean asked Kinwa, innocently enough.
�No. A wife.�
The priests�s servants nodded. �The priests take in women from the town of Boma all the time to work as slaves, and also to buy and sell as product.�
�You chose her to be part of our bargain for the product? Is she your wages?�
Kinwa shrugged. �They did not pay us less than we bargained. I think she is more like my bonus.�
�But�� Jean glanced down at Agatha, who stared with pleading eyes back at him. �If she came unwillingly, how will you get her to stay?�
Kinwa stroked her cheek. She did not flinch away, but seemed to return his gaze in a challenging way. �She will come to love me. Besides, she is too far from anything to be able to escape and still survive. On our trip back I told her about cannibals, and all the wild animals. You can see she is plenty frightened.�
�Untie her.�
Kinwa stared in a mild surprise at Jean. �Why are you concerned over her? She is just a whore. If she obeys me, she might become a decent woman. That is a good thing.�
�We are called to see the Chief as soon as you returned. He will want to know what you brought back for the village. I suggest you put her where he does not know she is part of the bargain. That is, if you want to keep her for yourself.�
###
The chief return to �I� instead of �We� he used in his last meeting when he felt that he was in trouble: "I don't know what to say to all of you in thanks for this surprised victory. Kinwa, you have shown remarkable bravery in trusting my men with these new magic sticks. I have decided that Jean�s group will now join my Balombi. They are now official members of my clan, and of the village. I so declare."
Jean bowed slightly. �That is excellent, Mfumu."
"I thought after I was injured that it was all over for my village, that all my people would become slaves of the dreaded Konge. For the first time in my life that my reign could be ended by those animals. I here declare that I will give 200 free tons of cottons and free 10 tons of coffee to Jean in exchange for all his efforts highly appreciated for my survival. And for his wisdom in warfar, I name Kinwa as the new man in charge security and defense in Kabinde from now."
Several men rose to his feet at this�one shouting that Kinwa had disappeared during the fighting, picking a coward�s time to trade. Others were incensed that a foreigner could be in charge of the most trusted position of all, that of security of the village.
Kinwa shouted, above the din, �it is a surprise and an honor. But I must have the trust of all.�
Mfumu restored the order by stabbing the loudest in the leg with his spear until blood began to flow. "My new friends and trusted friends belong to Jean's group. They are my new lifetime allies." The man he stabbed in the leg fled the room. �But we will see if they continue to earn that trust in the future. This is the condition that you all must understand. Because they are foreigners, they will still be watched. By their wives, and by us. Every day they will have to earn that trust all over again.� He turned to Kinwa. �You will never leave our village when a war is coming. You must restructure the undisciplined Public Force plus recruit new and energetic members, and you will train them with the ways of your people, as you once told me about. To reform the Public Force I give you all the power."
Life changed immediately when the former invaders became overnight Balombi in the village. As Jean walked back to tell his wife Betu about it, he felt more powerful than ever before in his life. He would have to work many long years to feel this way back in Belgium. For a poor prisoner to suddenly become so rich, with a beautiful wife and a king for a friend, he could ask for little more.
But then he remembered his dream. The king was in his dream, and the dog eating dog. But they no longer eat humans here. Perhaps the dream was meaningless after all.
Meanwhile the business in the field kept on. Jean went out to check on the progress, and was horrified to see half of the villagers were missing. When he asked one of the women who seemed ready to drop from exhaustion, she told him that many were tired and wanted to bathe in the river. But she feared being whipped.
�Who has ever whipped you here?�
�Kinwa,� she answered, and bent back over the weeds again.
Jean walked down to the river, and for a moment wished he had a whip. How will he get them to return to work under the sweating sun when they were having such a good time in the cool cleansing waters? They did not understand the concept of work first, then play. He had failed, as much as the chief depended on him, to transform their village into a good trading village.
Perhaps now that the Chief accepted him as a Balombi, he was ready for his second religious lesson. This one would be called, �God blesses the hard worker.�
As he walked back to the Chief�s house, he heard rumor that a Zonge spy had been captured and was being readied for the pot. He was going to talk to the Chief, and not a moment too soon.
CHAPTER 27
Kinwa stopped him before he got to Mfumu�s lodging. �So what do you think of my new wife?�
�She�s very�white.�
�Is that a problem for you?�
Jean didn�t know how to answer. Where he came from, blacks and whites did not marry. It just wasn not done. Nor has it been that long since slavery was abandoned in the U.S., where much cultural material was beginning to emenate from, since their highly popular Columbus Exhibition in 1893. And too, this was Agatha, a woman he dreamt about at night, for what reason he still could not figure out.
So instead Jean asked what kind of prices he got for the goods, and Kinwa gave him a pretty detailed listing from his head. Jean was not sure that he was accurate, but he sounded very sure of himself. To Jean it sounded as though the priests were trying to rob them�or perhaps Kinwa kept some of the money in exchange for himself. That was not a good thought.
It would be some weeks before they had more product ready to ship and Jean wondered, to himself, leaving Kinwa behind, if they should be selling directly to Boma instead. The problem was that Boma was so far away and they had no good train system here. That was something he wanted to see happen, but that would be aways into the future. If at all. Because as Agatha alluded to, they really weren�t sent here to become good trading partners. There was something else afoot.
He planned to start a road building project and get his hands on some horse teams, but other changes would have to come with the priests before then.
Jean stepped into Mfumu�s lodging after first being waved in by his bodyguards.
�What�s this about a Zonge spy?�
Mfumu had been naked on the floor, doing what Jean didn�t quite understand. He seemed not at all disturbed by Jean�s appearance, and finished what Jean could only believe was praying before standing again. Jean averted his eyes, and Mfumu, sensing his foreigner distress, put on his gown.
�Caught in the bushes. Had poison darts on him. That is punishable by death.�
�But eating? You know that�s wrong.�
�Do I? All my ancestors did not know it, how should I?�
Jean decided on a different tactic. �Did he say anything about the war?�
�They have some of our people and will not give them back. They are in exchange for those who died.� Mfumu shrugged. �That is the way. They plan another war, so he says, but he will not say when. No torture would bring it out of him. I think he does not know. I think they do not know. That is the better way. Surprise.�
�We will be ready. Kinwa has given you the trading report?�
�Yes. He has brought no guns.�
�I will go myself next time. They will know the urgency or we will trade elsewhere.�
�Is there elsewhere?�
Jean was caught off guard by this. Mfumu was more savvy than he expected.
�I would like to talk to you about your ancestors, and the spirit world. You remember our discussion of the 10 commandments?�
�Yours versus mine? Yes. You did not convince me. But I am ready to hear more.�
�Your custom of eating humans. You are not alone in this. It has been practiced around the world for centuries.� Jean thought Mfumu would look surprised, but he didn�t. �But very few still eat humans, and it is because of the saving grace of our Lord Jesus Christ.�
�Was he ruler of a tribe?�
�Well, not in his time, no, but later on---.�
�What good can any man do who is not a leader while alive?�
�He tried to change his tribe into something else.�
�And what did they do to him?�
�They killed him.� Jean explained the story of the cross, and resurrection. �and so now, symbolically, when people who believe in Christ want to honor him, they eat his flesh and drink his blood.�
�Ah.� Mfumu sat back. �At least you show us what we have in common. So why do you keep insisting that eating humans is wrong?�
�Symbolically, chief. This means�� Jean struggled for how to explain this. �You have a tradition of not hunting certain animals. Instead you wear the cloaks of those animals but only from the ones you find already dead. Right?�
Mfumu nodded slowly, as though fearing a trick.
�But you say that you killed them, even though you didn�t. Because it gives you the right to wear their skin. If you had killed them, it would be wrong and you would be punished.�
Mfumu laughed. �Ah, yes. We had one winter when we found no lion skin, and several people became terrible with the skin rashes in the sun.�
�Well, eating Jesus�s flesh and drinking his blood is like that. We know it�s wrong to really do it, so we only pretend, in order to gain its sacredness.�
Mfumu looked puzzled again. �You find his flesh and blood lying out there in the praire?�
�Ah, no, that�s not---.�
�Because if it lays out there too long, in the sun, it is no longer good to eat or drink. You make yourself sick, maybe die.�
�Ah, that�s not---.�
Mfumu laughed and jumped to his feet. �Ah, but it�s good to know that you and I believe in the same spirits! I will look for you at the head of the table tomorrow when we eat the Zonge!� He pushed Jean out the door just as two women entered. �And now, I am busy. I need to make more children for my tribe.�
###
Agatha looked out into the fading sunlight. She looked behind her, where her husband Kinwa was making love with another woman claiming to be his wife. That was okay with her. She didn�t believe in any of these hocus pocus religions anyway. She had only one goal in mind, and that�s what brought her here.
She crept out into the village, trying to ignore the dark eyes staring at her like she was some kind of fancy dressed beef. She found she wasn�t as afraid as she thought she�d be. She pulled open the bag she kept over her shoulder and reached reassuredly for her notebook. A Pulitzer Prize, that was all life was about. And here, exposing European corruption and Leopold�s lies, she�d earn it. Or die in a pot trying.
�Agatha!�
�Oh, thank goodness. Jean!� She waved to the voice behind her, the only friendly sound in this village.
He grabbed her arms and shook her. �What are you, mad?�
�Why, at being here? I didn�t have much choice, you saw how Kinwa brought me.�
Jean turned away. �Somehow, it seems you�ve been following me.�
�I guess it does.� Agatha stifled a giggle. �Are you ready to listen to me yet?�
�Are you really married to Kinwa?�
�Are you jealous?�
�I�I am married, too. To a native girl.�
�I hope the best for you. Now will you listen? The priests have been lying to you. You are a sacrifical lamb. A big war is coming. Do not trust Kinwa.�
�What? He is one of my---what do you mean, a big war?�
�You know how all the prisoners were sent out here? That�s because all of you can be sacrificed, all of you.�
�So why are you here?�
Slowly, with a sly smile, Agatha pulled out her notebook. �Why, to record it, of course.�
CHAPTER 28
The priests, after Kinwa left, felt that they were very successful in letting Jean think that he was doing the right things in the cannibal village. He came near to death with the bite of that wild animal, and with their healing came to see that they could be trusted to do whatever he needed done.
They felt they could now do anything to him they wanted.
Yet Gerald, one of the priests, felt some illness toward the plan. He sensed that Jean maybe enjoyed the company of the cannibals a little too much and wouldn�t punish them to make product. When he was reminded that that was only a cover and it didn�t matter how hard he worked, Gerald remind them. �But we don�t know how long it will take to get the war going to rid the country of cannibals totally. Until that time, if he can do some good, perhaps save some of the souls, this should be encouraged. They have many products, and rich, unused land. We must get what product we can before the war, and then, if Jean does convert them, we can help many of them to survive the war. This is possible, too, no?�
Jimbo shook his head. �He is much too happy there. I do not see him ever whipping any of the people to make them work harder.�
Pascal paced, puffing on his pipe. �I sense a little jealousy in you since you returned, Jimbo. Do you wish to go back, live and die there, too?�
�There are worse fates!� Jimbo said loudly, and then, just as suddenly, turned away.
Another priest, Stephane, stood. "I will volunteer to make the long trip to Boma to talk to our superiors and post letters to Jean�s mother. Perhaps we can send out rumors that the war that is coming is not our fault. We can tell them about the small fights that Kabinde has already had. We can set the stage for the war that is coming, that is unavoidable. I can warn Jean�s mother that she may never hear from him again. Things will be out of our hands, from there."
The priests discussed this and finally agreed. Stephane made plans with the money they will get on the next shipment from Jean�s village. "I will buy two properties in our country. We have to ignore the guns demand. With his next shipment he may have some construction material, but that is all. We have no more food or clothing to send."
Jimbo shook his head. Pascal put a hand on his shoulder. �That is what we will tell them, anyway.�
Jimbo grunted. �Why did you let Kinwa take the girl?�
�Does it make a difference? We already know that the chief will end up eating them, if the war doesn�t get there first.�
Pascal interrupted the sudden outburst of conversation. �Kinwa is on our side. He knows the plan. Jean has been converted, rather than doing the converting. Kinwa gave them all the guns so that they would desire more and more power, that Jean cannot deliver. Jean will end up in their pot, and the guns will fail and they will lose their war. All the cannibals will be erased from this land and the Belgians will move in with their northern laborers.�
�You mean slaves.�
�No.� But Pacal grinned. �I mean chained laborers.�
�What about Mpuwu?�
�He is as good as dead.�
Jimbo waited for Gerald to finish writing a letter before the two of them departed in different directions:
Jean/Tumba:
My brother, I am not happy writing to you this time. We are convinced that you won't listen to us anymore. We do not know why you have changed so much. It is painful because we see how you are dying and how you are stuck in the mud of nativism, and how you are digging your own tomb. It won't be a pleasure to assist you in your burial if we are lucky enough to have the chance to collect your body for your mother to see.
We know what is going on there, so it will be a waste of time to advise you again. I am leaving for Boma now to sell them your product and send some money to your mother. But I fear I cannot tell her good news. We know that you do not convert, and this is not a good thing for your future there.
You know, my brother, that sometimes a success is a failure and sometimes failure is success. You know the biggest failure of our Lord Jesus Christ was in dying, but it was also his biggest victory. Jesus was crucified on the cross alongside criminals, but he rose from the dead. I fear you will not be so fortunate. But then, you are not Jesus, even if you think you are a savior to those people.
They give you their friendship, wives, food, respect, but these are poison because they will turn on you in an instant, like the lion once he�s hungry again. They do not gather and plant their crops for you, but for their survival. Once they see they can survive without you, you will die. Will your mother be happy to hear that?
You think we are fooled? You think we don�t know that the war you are now having with the Zonge was caused by guns? You meant to hide much from us when you were here and we were busy saving your life. You are just a child sent to do a man�s job. We gave Kinwa a job and that was to remove you and take over as administrator of the project. We insist that you return here, so that you can be sent back to Boma.
It is for your own good, son.
Your brother, Gerald.
Grinning, Gerald gave the note to Jimbo.
CHAPTER 29
Mfumu survived the most terrific threat to his reign. He was not stupid when he gave to a foreigner the biggest position in his land, the defense ministry. He had lost faith in his own people, but he would get it back when they saw what he planned. First he had to gain the complete trust of the foreigners in order to get more ammunition for the wars. At the end of the wars, there would still be time for dinner.
Many villagers were unhappy that the foreigners saved Mfumu. They wanted someone to save them from Mfumu who kept taking their animals and products from their farms as tax. But no foreigner should be allowed to do what their own people must do, in order to keep the village pure.
The group calling itself Piti Piti talked in the bushes. "The foreigners don't know how bad Mfumu is."
"They find out, now that Mfumu have survived. He will kill slowly the foreigners. A day at a time they come closer to death. Until they begin to feel it."
"He even made them our dignitaries!"
"That was a most amazing thing. How can he give to people without the same bloods as us those posts?"
"People with power who should be eaten." Many still view them like all the chicken and goats that they keep and eat for special occasions.
�Mfumu�s inclusion of the foreigners in the administration is a scandal and an insult to the ancestors and to tradition.�
They also suspected that the foreigners with their powerful weapons might just kill Mfumu at any time, because they were foreigners and their ways could not be trusted.
Kalenga was a new member to the Piti Piti. He had been the man in charge of defense until the position was given to Kinwa. But Kinwa was not even the one he hated most. He hated Mpuwu for taking the woman he had wanted. There were few hates he ever felt in his life like he felt that one. He had been humilitiated now twice, and by foreigners who had been once sitting in their pots. He had to be helped to this bush meeting from his bed because he had begun to feel dizzy and fall down a lot.
Many believed that the foreigners brought the devils with them when they came, and Mfumu could not help having the devil in his eyes. Some suggested he be spared, and the foreigners killed from the back so they could not use their magic sticks.
They made plans to catch them one at a time in isolated places. But they knew that Jean and his friends always carried those sticks with them, even when they went to toileting and bathing, as they had been taught. But there was one time that the magic stick could not be touched, and that was when their own magic stick had been activated�by their wives.
Three men were assigned to watch for these times, and to steal those magic sticks.
###
Kinwa loved his black wife more than his white wife, who never seemed to be around when he wanted sex. But he loved his new position better. He knew what the priests wanted of him, and he would now be in the right place to deliver what they wanted. War.
He was tired of working in the fields, and decided that when the sun rose again he would tell Jean that he had too many duties now and could not work the fields anymore. The natives did not want to work anyway. They would have to start the whipping soon. Mpuwu has not being doing enough so Mpuwu can teach the bosses how to whip.
And as he fell asleep that night, he thought about how to become Mfumu.
###
Mfumu did not stay chief by being a fool. He knew he had to do something to keep the villagers happy and believing in his magic. To clean up his image he wanted to execute the Zonge spy with a Pomu rebel. He knew that Pomu had been found and that many of his relatives have joined the Zonge. He also knew that there were some Pomu rebels still in the village, but finding out who was a rebel and who was innocent would not be so easy.
Mfumu also knew they wanted to kill him, but most of the villagers were not convinced that he killed Pomu. The foreigners were the ones with the guns, and so without even saying anything, Mfumu could make them look guilty. And the one who they could trust the least was the one who seemed to be most like them. Mpuwu. The Chief did not make Mpuwu part of his Balomi for that reason, because they needed a foreigner to suspect.
Mfumu wanted to have meetings with this new Balombi group every day until he trusted Jean and Kinwa knew their duties, but also because he wanted to be sure the villager understood that he was still in charge. At this meeting he told them of the possibility of Pomu rebels hiding out as innocent villagers. He had a spy to kill and needed to kill a rebel, too, to make the village safe. He decided that this rebel must be blamed for the death of Pomu.
�Any villager could have gotten his hands on one of your guns,� he explained to them. He asked them to be very careful as they all search for the accused Pomu rebel. �I have been blamed by many peoples for the killing of Pomu that almost led to some kind of unjustified revolution. I am king and beyond reproach."
Kinwa, the new strongest man, was quick to respond. "Mfumu, we will investigate the matter. Until this rebel can be found you are not safe. The one we find guilty of killing Pomu will be punished and the capital punishment is death."
"We have to judge them and once they are found guilty, I will shoot them personally,� said Mfumu. Mfumu knew that Kinwa has to agree to all he was saying. As a foreigner he could have little argument. Before any meeting and even before receiving any advice, Mfumu had already made plans and wanted the support of his Balombi to implement what he planned. They will walk right into his ideas as though thinking these things themselves.
"We have to kill them without any judgment. They are filled with lies."
Mfumu put up a hand. �But do you know who the rebel is? How will you prove you have the right person?�
Another dignitary intervened: "We must just pick someone who had a reason to dislike Pomu. Then we must show everybody the punishment so people may learn to live a clean life. And everybody must witness the punishment to stop blaming Mfumu. We have to invite Pomu's family so they will know who we blame for killing their brother, and from there we may see how to reconcile with the Pomu's followers."
Mfumu pretended not to be interested in talking to Pomu's followers. "Never and never. No reconciliation with those criminals. They wanted to kill me. This is impossible. I will never allow this to happen."
"I understand, Mfumu. I am sorry if I offended you." the Malombi knelt at his feet.
"In few months I will regroup my warriors and we will go and kill them in their new village."
Mfumu nodded. "First they don't have any right to leave my village and second they must be punished for attempting to murder me. I am the only legitimate chef in this land because I was chosen by the ancestors to inherit this position.� The chief suddenly noticed Jean, sitting in the back corner. �Tumba, you don't talk today?"
Jean was startled. He had so much on his mind. First, his wife wanted to make babies right away, and he did not get much sleep. Two, he now had to worry about Agatha. She was a reporter from the U.S. who thought she could get a story out of what they did here. And three, he had natives who did not want to collect cotton or coffee anymore, and the plants were growing very slowly. And then there was war to worry about. He did not think he would find himself thinking fondly about prison again.
"I will talk when I am sure to make a contribution."
"Kabinde is your land. No one is foreigner here. Well, except perhaps that white woman of Kinwa�s.� Everyone laughed, as they usually did when they saw her. They tried to make her work but she fell down a lot. This laughter only made Jean sadder. He feared she�d end up in the pot and he could do nothing to save her. Perhaps, if he was going to make the money he needed, that would be the best thing.
Finally Jean responded: "Don't worry, Mfumu, this is only my second time here. You know the fields take a lot of my time. There many things that will come in future and you will see our contributions."
"Many people who are new in the group come up with good ideas. Tumba, I need a special comment regarding your life as married man."
"It is a unique experience." They were not talking a lot and Jean found that odd because he knew their language pretty well. She did not seem at all shy in bed but for some reason she did not like to talk. "I really enjoy to be with her. She caught my attention the first day and she catches my attention every day. I never thought that I will get married this early." Although he did think when he first saw Agatha about getting married. �She looks like a model I used to admire in the magazines. I am anxious to see how our children we look like. I am sure that they will be very beautiful."
The Balombi didn't know the meaning of a magazine. Jean only told them it related to the trading of product. That�s all he could say that they would understand.
Mfumu laughed at Jean. "You were once so confused about the thought of taking one of our young women."
"I am still afraid of how my mother will react.� He thought of writing her a letter for the priests to mail, but every time he tried to write it the words got all messed up in his mind.
"Your mother no longer runs your life. And Betu is perhaps to your liking but so are many other women in the village. I know that you will end up being polygamous like most of the men in our land."
The Balombi around Jean laughed at this. But Jean didn�t think it funny. "I hope not because in my culture in Europe it very rare to see that practice. She is all for me. We are used to only one wife. I will cherish her and live only with her." Then he tried to laugh. �And one wife is all I will want to afford.�
The king concluded the meeting. �Time will tell. I have never seen one woman so good that I did not wish another. To end up our meeting I will call you all again tomorrow to see if we have chosen our Pomu rebel. The Zonge spy must not stay alive much longer, as I fear he may escape and tell the Zonge what we plan. We will show everybody that I am innocent to the false rumor of killing my brother Pomu, who I miss and mourn with tears.�
When they stepped outside Jean grabbed Kinwa�s arm. �I have not seen Mpuwu lately. I know he works hard in the field all day as a boss, and I have seen him try but not very hard to whip them to work hard. But after that he disappears. Where does he go?�
Kinwa shrugged. �He does not much talk to me anymore. I can only hope he is not the Pomu rebel. I will have no more trouble killing him than anyone.�
Jean watched him go, feeling more frightened for Agatha than ever.

CHAPTER 30
Betu�s family members started visiting Jean's place. He loved to sit and spend time with his new family, especially Betu�s sister Malu, who at certain times looked very much like her, and her husband�s father, Sudamo. He felt very comfortable with them, and recognized that they were trying very hard to get him to trust them. He also knew that some of them were related to Pomu, but he would not for a second suspect anyone related directly to his wife. He sometimes forgot to go into the fields to check on the product raising and gathering, because they had him so occupied and amusing, by teaching him their local games and telling him all the legends from the ancient past, stories that seemed to have no end.
When he did go to the fields now, it was just to make sure that his supervisors were keeping people on the job. He saw some signs of whipping but not too much, which made him happy. He often forgot to count the wagons but trusted that Kinwa would know when it was time to visit the priests again. Mpuwu was also one of the supervisors but he refused to pick up a whip and could sometimes be found bathing in the river with the other loafers. Jean didn�t often recognize Mpuwu anymore. He seemed to have returned completely to his native roots.
This was a a lull time, a period of quiet time in Kabinde, even while the Balombi searched in secret for a Pomu rebel. Jean had almost forgotten that these were cannibals who still talked of eating others. He began to see their ways as normal ways.
Finally Mfumu made an arrest�it was Sudamo, who turned out to be a brother to Mazibuko, who had been killed in the last war. Jean tried to protest, especially after seeing the tears of his wife and sister.
He ran to get Kinwa and told him they needed Agatha�s help, too.
Kinwa only shook him off. �Mfumu must do what he must do. And you leave my wife alone!�
�Kinwa, you do not understand. Mfumu is trying to make war worse right inside our village. Many of us, your women, the children, they will die because he will not stop his relentless vengeance. He will listen to you.�
�He will listen to you without me. They still talk of the day you threw yourself out of the pot.�
�But Sudamo is my relation. He will not listen to me.�
Jean looked around when he heard a woman screaming. He saw Agatha, crouched over a cotton plant, with a supervisor ready to whip her. Jean, not thinking, ran and tackled the supervisor to the ground before he could give her a second lashing.
After the two men struggled briefly in the dirt, the Kabinde Supervisor recognized Jean and stood back in deference. �She would not work.�
Jean shook his head and turned to Agatha. �What are you doing out here?�
Agatha, sobbing in pain, pointed to Kinwa, who had come with a grin to stand with them.
�You know her, don�t you?� Kinwa said to Jean.
�I met her but what does that---.�
�She is trying to come between us and making good money from these people. She wants to report on us to the world � she is a reporter!�
Jean looked back at Agatha. �You told him?� And that�s when he noticed that she had bruises on her face and neck. And he understood. �You told the supervisor just to whip her whenever he felt like it, didn�t you?�
Without waiting for an answer he grabbed Agatha�s hand and pulled her with him back to the village. He stopped her briefly to allow her to get her things from Kinwa�s hut. �You are going to live with me until the next time we bring product to the priests, and there you will find a way back to Boma and from there back to the U.S. where you belong!�
Agatha only sighed and allowed herself to be led into his hut. There Jean faced his wife, her sister, and Sudamo�s wife. Jean told them in their language why the girl was here. He knew Betu would not be happy about it, but would defer to her husband�s wishes. He made it clear the woman was not to be another wife, but just to be protected until she could leave. Still Betu looked at her with eyes of jealousy and Jean knew it was because she had the same skin as her husband. Marrying people of other skins was unusual for them.
�My husband, I know you have much on your mind. But my sister�s father is going to be killed � and eaten. What will you do?�
Jean sighed. He felt he had little influence with Mfumu in this matter, but it was time to give it a try. �Agatha, get your notebook materials and come with me to meet Mfumu.�
Jean knew that many of the villagers still wondered why Mfumu allowed these three foreigners to live in his village, and now two of them to be Balombi. They understood that the Chief was losing faith in the traditional magic and learning to like the foreign magic better, which to many seemed harmful to their future.
Jean heard the talk, and knew that the Chief may be facing the end of his life soon. But before that happens, he will reason with him and keep any more villagers from unnecessary death. He knew Mfumu killed Pomu. Sometimes he felt like killing Mfumu himself. But for now he had a different idea.
As he and Agatha walked to Mfumu, they heard the sounds of drums. Mpuwu, who had come from the fields to get food, walked over to Jean. He glanced at Agatha as always, but did not ask to be introduced. �What do you think the drums mean?�
Jean thought he was starting to understand them, but then he always turned out to be wrong. �I hope it�s not trouble. We have enough already."
�You think to ask Mfumu to free your father?� Mpuwu shook his head. �I fear the king listens to no one but voices in his head. This is a dangerous man now, Jean.� He almost said more, but instead walked back to the fields.
�Who was that?� Agatha whispered.
�He was one of my porters. I don�t know who he is now, but he may be right.�
These drums, he decided could be dancing drums, but they were not quite like the dums he heard every day at this time. There was a different sound to, slower, almost mournful. Jean decided they were the drums to save Sudamo, and motioned Agatha to the lodging with the bodyguards.
At first the bodyguards crossed spears over the entrance. Jean told them to announce him, and when they did, Mfumu finally answered to let them in. The bodyguards, instead, reiterated that he had a strange white woman with them who has not faced the pot trial yet. They heard Mfumu laughing. Finally they let the two white people enter the sacred lodging of the king.
When they walked in the king was still laughing. They stood respectfully and waited for him to speak. �More are coming.�
�More?�
�The drums, you hear them? It means more foreigners have been spotting coming our way.� He laughed again. �Do we eat them, Jean? Do we want them here? Who is she?� He pointed to Agatha.
�She is one of many who control the big words that many of my people read. You have your oral tales, while we have places where our tales are written for all the world to see. Even the ancestors can see our words. That makes them very powerful. It makes her powerful.�
�And you are giving her to me for my wife?�
�No, chief!� Jean began to see the foolishness of this. Oh, to be so young and stupid. �I have brought her to beg with me for the life of Sudamo.�
�Sudamo! He killed Pomu! He and my Zonge spy will die for tonight�s dinner. It is spoken.�
Jean felt suddenly distracted by the drumming � more coming here? Why? What do they want? Perhaps they will remove him, as the priests have wanted all along. He will not go without a fight. �Chief, delay the meal until after these new foreigners are chased away. If they see you eating humans, you will all be destroyed.� He could feel Agatha scribbling on her paper behind him, and Mfumu watched her intently. �Agatha, tell the chief that I am right.�
Agatha cleared her throat. �I am married to Kinwa but he beats me. I know that I am a stranger before you, your worship,� she bowed, and Jean rolled his eyes. She caught his face and stood again quickly. �But I want to protect your people, the same as Jean does. People where I live must know the way you are being mistreated here. If there are new foreigners coming, it is probably bad news. Save your people and chase them away. But do not eat them because that is, uh�� she shuddered, �bad meat.�
�Bad meat? You wish to protect my people by changing who we are? Is that protection?� He looked at Jean. �I will delay the meal tonight, but when these new foreigners come they will be taken for food. All of them, we will have a magnificent feast, to include Sudamo and my Zonge spy.�
Jean knew he could ask for no more than that. He already thought he would find a way to help Sudamo escape. He walked to the lodging but Agatha did not follow. When he turned back he saw the king had a firm grip on her arm.
�You will be one of my wives. I have always longed for one of another skin.�
Jean went back to them, in alarm. �Chief, she is already wed to another. She is no virgin.�
Agatha glared at him but said nothing. �I�m sorry, chief, but I am only staying until I can return to the priests. But�I am honored��
�You are mine. That is all. Leave, Jean. She is either my wife, or my dinner. She is in our village without permission and has yet to pass the pot trial, as you have done. I will kill you, Jean, if you argue, and none in the village will mourn.�
Jean saw a tear in the corner of Agatha�s eyes, but she nodded at him. �I�ll be all right. Finish the plans.�
Jean went outside, feeling very weak and tired. He had made things now so much worse. But perhaps Agatha can play some magic of her own on him. He saw that the warriors, fishers and hunters were returning home, and all were preparing special face makeup for the greeting of the strangers. He asked how far out they were, remembering the villagers� lack of understanding of distance. About half a noon-day sun, he was told. He figured that meant only about three hours away.
�Did the drummer say how many?"
"Many."
"Many?"
�Yes.�
Jean brought Kinwa in, and told him to tell all the warriors not to prepare to fight. Their three guns would never stand against many money brought by foreigners. He told Kinwa that the two of them will see that these people want, and will do whatever they can to make them continue on their way. They may be just passing through, on their way to another village. They could only hope.
CHAPTER 31
While they waited, Jean told his wife that the execution for that day had been postponed, and to her to have her family help find a way for Sudamo to escape. He will make sure that Mfumu does not capture any more of her people. When she asked about the strange white woman, Jean told her about staying with the chief, and Betu laughed. Jean understood, and did not scold her. But he did not like her laughing at Agatha.
When finally the foreigners arrived, Jean saw there were indeed many. A group of seven missionaries with twenty porters from Boma, all carrying guns and large parcels. Jean at first wondered why the priests didn�t warn him they might do this, and then realized that Agatha had been right all along. All lies.
One of the native boys pointed him out to this group�s head man, and the entourage moved toward him. Jean walked out of the village limits so that hopefully he could keep them from entering. He was followed by Kinwa and several warriors, who stood behind him in silence.
�Hey Ya.� Jean gave them the customary Kabinde greeting.
�Do you speak English?� The men looked confused at a white man speaking a native greeting. The head man, Dick Michael, introduced himself.
�Yes, Mr. Michael, I do. Please tell us your mission to this land.�
He told them they arrived in Africa one month ago from Belgium. Michael had been in Boma for five years, and finally agreed to be transferred to a village in the southern part of the Belgian Congo. He showed Jean their map, where Kabinde was a semi virgin land with only one Belgian, Jean. And orders to transfer Jean to Kimbuzi, signed by the Belgian authority in Congo, Paul Bruno. Jean saw this, and at first gave them no reaction. He wanted to hear all they could tell him, first.
One of the missionaries, Delphin, was a mine researcher and geologist. He was to search, using his geographic knowledge, potential locations of mineral resources in this southern land. The South part soil was known of possibly containing large quantity of minerals. He had a pouch on him, in which he kept samples of the stones and soils he picked up along the way, and his map marked the location of his samples. He planned to have them analyzed so that more geologists could move into the most promising areas.
Jean groaned inwardly, but felt he was learning the ability to not show emotion. �You mean, you are diamond hunters?�
Kinwa stepped forward, violently shaking his spear. Jean had forbidden all from carrying guns. �You will move on�this territory is already claimed for Belgium and any riches here are also claimed � by us!�
Mr. Michael was surprised to see a black suddenly speaking English, and then laughed. �Oh of course, you�re one of Jean�s porters. Well, it sounds like you don�t know your place.� He waved his hand at the porters behind him. �You are to be subservient to your colonist. Jean, are you losing control here?�
"I am doing my job here. This is my territory. Go in other land. There is a Zonge village just to the north of us, and to the east, many more villages. Go rape the land elsewhere. These are my people."
Michael had been told to expect anger, but this young man was more controlled than he expected. Yet his words were fighting words, and he wanted Jean to know he knew that. "Calm down, my man. We are your countrymen, all working for the same king, Leopold. We have had a long walk and wish, for now, only to refresh."
"I will die for this land. I have left my home and my mother very behind because of this land."
Behind him Betu came up and placed her hands on his shoulders. She peeked out at the entourage and quickly hid behind him again. She knew he was upset, and hoped to help protect him.
Jean could see in Michael�s face the shock at seeing a white man addressed so lovingly by a black woman. He believed Michael had never before seen a mixed couple.
With Betu at his side Jean felt calmer.
Michael continued, "Anyway, you are officially transferred to Kimbuzi. Paul Bruno has assured us that he wrote you a letter by the intermediary of priest Pascal of Kimbuzi. It is for your safety that you live with the priests until they can teach you the ways of Belgian administration. You have been sent here too quickly, and for that the king apologizes to you. He will see that you earn good money while you learn."
"I learn every day while I am here.�
�You do not learn the right things.�
�I learn what I need to know!�
�I am safe here, and while I am here my people are safe. We are providing product to the priests and they have no reason to complain, or remove me. I have my two porters, Kinwa and Mpuwu, plus two more who joined me, Pula and Ndeko from the priests� house, and we are now all married to natives here. We are all working as a family. That is the best way, even if it is not Leopold�s way."
Michael not pleased by this, Jean could tell, but he only said, "Congratulation on your marriage. I suspect she is the main reason you stay here? You refuse to follow your new Belgian orders? Is that what I am to understand?"
"I love this place and his people. Betu, my wife, is a part of me, and my name is Tumba. So those orders to not apply to me."
Michael turned in frustration to see the others with him and sees that they are as surprised as he. �You love these people? Cannibals?"
"Yes, they are cannibals. But it is only a part of their power, not all of it."
"My friend, how can you love someone who can eat you? Tell me, have you eaten or tasted a human's meat? Maybe you are a cannibal, too. A prisoner from Belgium!� He spat on the ground. �This is what I tell them years ago, it is a fool�s idea to expect to trust criminals here! How many humans have you eaten, eh?"
Jean thought perhaps this is the best way to get this entourage to leave. With Betu tight at his side, he nodded. "Maybe yes, maybe not. I don't question the food the give me. Not anymore." He smiled. �In fact, I delayed an execution and dinner for tonight because of the drums announcing the arrival of foreigners. I thought it might make a much better feast.�
Michael took a step backward. He had once gone looking for a tourist photographer named Serge who refused to listen to the instructions and had accidently wandered into a cannibal villager farther north. When Michael arrived to ask about him, he saw on a charred mound a broken camera and rifle. He could picture Serge in their bellies, and fled without looking back.
Kinwa smiled at the many in Michael�s group who made gasping sounds at the threat Jean gave them. �Oh! Oh! Oh!�
And one voice crying out, "We have lost a Belgian. This man is lost already."
Michael put up a hand to calm them down. They were at a standoff, where neither knew what next to say. Behind Jean the villagers were beginning to gather, watching, and Jean hoped, some of them looking hungry. The villagers could not understand the English talk, because Jean, against the orders, did not bother teaching them. He could not teach the commandments so felt trying to teach the English would be even worse. But Jean could hear them talking and did not tell Michael what they were saying, even though he asked. Michael then moved farther back to talk quietly with his missionaries.
Two villagers commented on what they saw, while the rest listened.
�They are talking in their ghost language."
Many theories were still in the mind of the villagers. White people may be ghost descendents who lost the address of their graves or tombs, or maybe they were people erupted for the volcanic mountain, or maybe were some kind of albinos. They never all agreed, and only the ones who felt they had great power were happy to see them as Balombi.
"How come there is no white women? We know they exist, for the Chief now has one of his own.
�The chief gets to have everything new first.�
�Why they not bring any? How do men travel without women?"
"Perhaps Mfumu has the only one."
"But then how do all these men get born? The chief�s woman does not look old."
"Maybe they erupt from the special mountain."
They would not haved guessed that the colonist government did not allow women to join the men in these first attempts at establishment. The women were allowed to come only when they felt the area had been secured and made more comfortable. They had no way of knowing that Agatha was not from Belgium. They felt her odd speech was because she was a white woman.
Finally Michael nodded at a suggestion by Delphin and stepped back toward Jean. �We must have a meeting with the village king.�
Jean, now calling himself only Tumba, knew that this was Belgian custom and to deny it might cause more trouble. He felt that Mfumu might do something wrong, but for the moment he could do nothing but agree.
CHAPTER 32
Jean had an advantage. He could speak both languages. He knew that the porters also could probably speak Mfumu�s language pretty good, but he would find a way to say things to Mfumu that none of them could understand. He had to warn the chief, and let him know that they could be scared off only by talking of eating just one of them, for taste. But this was a very careful situation. They with all their guns could simply start shooting.
They went to see Mfumu. And Mfumu wasn't resistant to meet the new group. Jean looked around for Agatha but she was staying hidden. That could be a good thing, because she might demand to go with them, if they go back to Boma. He did not trust these people, and did not trust the priests now, either. But was Agatha better off with Mfumu? Jean just didn�t know.
Most of the porters stayed outside the lodging while the seven Belgians and two interpreters joined Jean and Kinwa for the conference.
"Chief, with all the respect in the world,� Michael said, �we brought you gifts." He opened a bag and gave Mfumu some clothes, mirrors and sweets.
Mfumu grunted. �Again, no guns?�
Michael looked shocked but quickly smiled again. He noticed the chief had no shoes so he held out a pair of sandals, believing that made him a better colonist than Jean.
Mfumu shook his head. "Thank you but I don't wear shoes."
Jean told him in a secret code, �They want to make you a commoner.�
"Why, My Lord?� Michael gave him the utmost deference. �The shoes will protect your sacred feet."
Mfumu laughed. "My feet walk the blessed ancestors� soil. I allow my people to wear clothes but not shoes. The feet bring us closer to our ancestors� path."
Tumba nodded at the grimace on Michael�s face. �He does not believe you have ancestors, and this is not your land.�
Mfumu stood, ready to chase them away. �We don't need to rely on your gifts. As you can see, we already have a white skin here. What do we need you for?"
Michael listened as one of his interpreters told him that Tumba was poisoning his mind against him. Tumba smiled at Michael because the interpreter did not get the words right. "My Lord, I come in the name of Jesus Christ with good news. We come to save you and bring you power."
�You will give me all your guns?�
"We would like to tell you that God loves you. God has created all the human beings to love each other." Michael knew that Tumba broke the rules by letting the Chief have the power of the rifles. One of his instructions had been to take these three rifles away, and he was not to leave here without doing at least that much, to make them powerless.
"If you love your neighbor like yourself you won't allow people to eat each other. If you are eaten, you wouldn't be happy. God loves you and loves everybody the same way."
Tumba could see Mfumu getting more and more upset over the talk that he had only tolerated when Tumba tried. Now was a very inappropriate time to preach at the chief, and the chief, in front of strangers, fought to keep his patience.
"God is powerfully capable of giving you all you want. All you have to do is follow his rules. He will protect you against your enemies and natural disease. Once you follow the ten commandments he will bless you even more than you are now. Let me show you.� Michael got to his knees and held his hands in prayer. �Do like me and I will teach you the power of prayer.� He waited but the king stood over him, feeling stronger.
�If you do not,� Dick Michael added, �God will show his wrath.�
Tumba, alarmed, watched as one of the interpreters sent a signal to the porters waiting outside. After a moment, they heard a gunshot, and a scream.
�If you pray in the name of Jesus Christ everything is possible. But if you do not, nothing is.�
Mfumu didn�t react to the sound of the gunshot, so Jean held his place, as did Kinwa. But they could hear the scurrying of people outside. Jean only hoped their weapons were well hid, so none of the natives tried shooting back. They kept their rifles unloaded but just pointing them could start a terrible war that his people would only lose. Finally Mfumu started to laugh.
�I am the one who has to teach you about God. You know nothing about God.�
Jean realized Mfumu had been listening to him. At least he understood that God was a great spirit who guides them and nature.
"Look, my son. They say in our proverbs that the mouth of a old man stinks because he doesn't wash everyday, but those words from his mouth do not stink. The ears never grow taller than the head. You are very young and want to teach me? Look, we are Lion's race and we are proud to be and we will be always cannibals. We eat foreigners who want to kill us. Not only physically but spiritually, like you want to. Jean lives only because he can become one of us. You, I see, cannot. Living without a traditional culture is living like a dead man. Cannibalism is a way of humiliating or punishing of our enemies to avoid revenge, a tradition our ancestors believed in, and one we inherited. Our neighbours are afraid of us because we are Lion's race, and they are monkey or giraffe, or maybe alligator, but not as great as Lion. He is king, so all my people are king and I am king of kings. If we do not maintain our tradition, then we will lose. All foreigners like you can easily kill us. Jean Tumba has taught my villagers how to whip if they are not quickly enough gathering trade for you. Except for getting guns, I would not allow it. But to fight you, we must have guns. So if you wish to stay, you must give us your guns. If you do not, you must leave, or be eaten."
�Chief, be careful. They could start killing all of us, they have more guns.�
�I have more power.� Mfumu turned back to the foreigners. �I have said that foreigners will not take my land. My ancestors live here and so will I and my children and their children. You think being cannibal is bad? Punishment exists everywhere in the world, Tumba tells me. There are worse ways to die. He has told terrible tales of torture, worse than any we could devise. Up in the Tukulu, for example. They sleep with enemies as sign of humiliation. They believe that when a man sleeps with a man, he takes his manhood. The man who sleeps with a man becomes weak. He resembles the weakest creature, women. And I hear in the northern tribes you weaken the men deliberately by raping them with other men. That is a different kind of cannibalism because you have taken all that man�s power."
�We would not condone that kind of action, I promise you��
But Mfumu ignored him and continued. "So the Tukulu punish their enemies in taking the manhood. The Siemana punish their enemies by giving them a poison that kills them slowly. The Jilona slash the enemy until he is near death and then throw him in a river and watch him drown. His soul cannot escape the water. We Lion's race ancestors once saw that keeping a foreigner in prison took away their precious food and water. Food is very sacred to us. We give food to our livestock to make them healthy food. If we give food to prisoners to make them healthy, why are they prisoners? It also wastes our blessed soil to bury them. The foreign body has no place in our land. The foreign body brings new diseases and curses to our land with his spirit�s revenge. There is nothing wrong with punishment. Since we become cannibals we have fewer enemies. We don't have unwanted visitors. We have punishment for our own people. We punish our cousins, the Zonge, and the newest rebellion group led by Pomu's brother Mazibuko by letting their prisoners walk naked in our land. It is a lifetime humiliation, all our children, women and men see their private part."
Now Jean knew the chief was starting to lie, and he didn�t know the purpose of it. To these foreigners eating all would be more treacherous, and yet Mfumu shares the old idea that they do not eat those of blood. Mfumu himself has changed that tradition.
�Foreigners are the worst kind of news to us. Tumba was a foreigner once, and spent his time in the pot.� Michael looked at Jean in surprise. Mfumu nodded. �He showed his power by escaping the pot in a way no other ever has. But he is a rare foreigner. We treat all as bad. We say in our proverb, you do not get the pimples on the same day you eat a frog. The pimples will appear after many days on your face. We don't have to give room for foreigners. Many of them are spies. They know our weakest side and kill us later."
Michael hid his impatience at all these speech-making well. "So human meat give you power?"
�So we don�t need you to come and teach us about God and your commandments. We have our own."
One of the missionaries told the interpreters not to interpret his criticism of Michael. "Our king Leopold said do not waste time in teaching indigenous the 10 commandments. We have to preach that the poor will inherit paradise."
But Tumba heard. �I was told by the priests. Are they too disobeying the King?�
Mfumu clapped his hands to get attention back. "Let me finish. We are a loving people and we have our commandments. We understand that the Earth provides to us what we need. Tumba told me your commandments and it does not even mention the sacred soil. We give to others. We share. We don't eat alone. Is this in your commandments? Together we live and together we die. We care for each other. Our sixth commandment says, �Do what needs to be done for the good of all.� Do you have one like this? I say no! Because I listened when Tumba preached. It all sounded like nonsense. He doesn�t preach anymore, because he knows we know everything. Our second commandment talks about honour, to respect every body. We respect everybody and everything. If you respect you won't steal your neighbor�s cattle. We punish robbers in giving them 100 slashes for a period of 10 days. The slashes heal but the body remembers. A man who does not respect his brother or neighbour's wife is cheating with her. We give to the woman and the man 80 slashes for 15 days. And the man pays to my administration five goats and ten chickens. In our eighth commandment when we caught you unnecessarily lying, we give you 20 slashes for 4 days. The one who kills needs to be killed, too. We have arrested two men for killing one of my advisors, who would be in the pot now except for the interruption of your strange arrival. I am Chief because my role was given to me by Mzambi God and my ancestors implement the law. My own son was killed many days ago because he killed two of his brothers and wanted me to die so he will take up this seat. There was no exception, he was killed too."
The missionaries were amazed. They never thought they would find the indigenous way out here with such an organized society. European thought was that all the people in Africa would be found living unlawfully and mating with animals, among other things.
Mfumu�s bodyguard brought him water. "They say that if you find the villager dancing with the left leg you have to follow in dancing with left leg too, not right leg. Jean and his four friends live here now because they are dancing our way. They do what we do. They only way you will stay is by doing things our way. By getting out of the pot the way Tumba did.� Mfumu clapped again, and this time ten of his bodyguards came in, each taking prisoner one of the foreigners. �Now, you will tell your porters to give all the guns to us, or they will each of you die.�
Jean was aghast. This will never work!
�You are the ones who have to pray our God Mzambi and our ancestors. Jean and his Kinwa are part of my advising and dignitary community and married to our women. Kinwa has a very important position in our land. We chose him as the Public Force chief. He uses his native intelligence mix with ours to implement discipline and help us to crush our enemies."
One of the struggling trapped missionaries found his voice. "My lord Mfumu, don't you think that having many enemies include your cousins who turn against you is sign that you didn't implement correctly the commandment left by your gods and ancestors?"
"This is a stupid question." Mfumu pointed at him, and nodded at Jean. �Can you believe he asks this? The world could be one very big village where everybody lives the same way, with no differences. Where there are people, there are always differences. It is a normal part of daily life to disagree. We say in our proverbs that people do not follow problems, but problems follow people. We all want peace, but peace do not always want us. I don't implement the ancestors� rules by simply smiling and laughing. I don�t steal from my friends and I do not kill. Still, sometimes, you have to force people to do what is good. Not everyone will agree, even with the Chief. It is why we have warriors, the strongest men to defend and die for our land and its culture. Foreigner attacks are rare but people we share the same blood do attack me. It is the rule of the world to form many villagers so that you do not run out of food, but we all pray to one God Mzambi and our ancestors. It is normal to have brothers who are enemies but we do what we have to. Your biggest enemy is your best friend�that is another saying. He knows your weak side."
Delphin had stopped struggling but he could see that Dick Michael was terrified and unable to speak. "My lord, with all respect we don't disagree with you. We respect your gods but we honor only the biggest God existing. Through him you will be more powerful. His name is Jesus Christ."
Mfumu laughed. "You don't know what you are talking about. God is within you. Mzambi is the biggest God who we reach by going into the ancestors dreams inside us. I am a future ancestor. When I die my grandchildren will pray to me and I will bring those prayers to Mzambi. You have ancestors, too. But you ignore them, if what Tumba told me is true. You bury them and don�t think about them. He does not even know his grandfather�s name! That is a crime here. If you want to reach God pray to your many mothers and fathers. How do you pray to someone who has never been a part of you?�
�He is a part of us. Symbolically we are all his children.�
�Symbolically?� He looked to Tumba for help. �Ah, that concept again. Symbols are for rocks and sacred places. Gods are real, not just some story told to you by people who do not know you. If your child is in trouble he runs to you for help. The dog runs to his master. How can I run to a stranger? Don't you see how stupid you are?�
He waved at the bodyguards to take them outside. �Do not fear their guns. They will not shoot if we use them to shield us.� He walked outside with the prisoners, and addressed all the people gathered there. He saw the porters with their weapons, but not knowing what to do. He saw the dead child on the ground and the weeping mothers around it.
Mfumu walked to the child and knelt, giving the child the customary farewell blessing. Then he stood back up again to explain: �We reach God by Um. Every word starting with Um is a divinity-related word. Umdizo is our day of repentance to ancestors. We slaughter hundred of animals in sacrifice. There is nothing good in this world without sacrifice. Umtazi is the days we pay tribute to our ancestors. The Lions' race meets even their enemies that day, and everyone goes to the mountain Umpanga, or sometimes we call it Umpangi. Sometimes it has a female presence. We do our ritual ceremonies there. It is the most sacred mountain where our ancestors and everything is originated from. It was a big volcano many centuries ago. Umsita is what we call our family prayer session. Every eight days we meet in family groups to slaughter ceremonial chickens. Then after the prayers we talk over families issues and reconcile family troubles. We confess our sins and celebrate in dancing and sharing our beer Munkoyo. We mourn our recent dead ones and ask the ancestors to take good care of their spirits. You cannot kill us with your guns. You can only send us to make our ancestors stronger.�
Finally Michael broke out in a sweat and started yelling. �You cannot have us killed. We are here to help you! We will bring you schools, and health care, and all the great things that make my people stronger than yours. We are stronger than yours, because we have Jesus Christ. Christ makes us happy, and we can make you happy, too!�
Mfumu laughed, his tone becoming bitter and mocking. "Happy? You want us to be happy? We are more than happy and don't need to be happy anymore. If I let you make me happy you will bring me misery. We don�t need your school or your health.�
Jean whispered, �Actually, the priests� medicine did save my life.�
Mfumu sat back and looked at Jean. �Then you were not meant to die.� He pointed at the little girl on the ground. �When the gods tell you to join the ancestors, there is nothing you can do to stop it. I am already in the late stage of life on earth. I didn't need your medicine to reach this age. We have many elders who didn�t need your medicine. Tumba, would you like to be Jean and join the foreigners here?�
Jean only hung his head sadly.
�What can you possibly teach us about survival that we do not already know? Now I will make demands. All weapons must be put on the ground, now."
CHAPTER 33
Jean watched, horrified, and thought of the stories of the Mexican war and battles that involved what became called the Mexican standoff. Both sides, waiting to shoot, waiting for the other to shoot first. But his side had no weapons, just missionaries for shields. Were the porters loyal? Did they fear, if they put the guns down, that they would be eaten?
The tension broke when a book fell from Dick Michael�s pocket. Mfumu, distracted, picked it up and opened a random page. �This is like what my woman does with her tools, only here the symbols are easier to read.�
�That�� Michael said, exhausted from fear. �Is the word of God. What woman do you talk about who writes?�
�Do not mention her again,� Jean warned Mfumu. �They will take her away.�
"Bah.� He dropped the book back into the dirt again. �I thought perhaps it would be interesting. I would like to learn more of culture. Tumba was young and very protected before he came here. He could not tell me enough.�
Silence again.
One of Mfumu�s bodyguards pulled a knife and held it to Michael�s throat.
�Put them down. But stand by them,� he commanded, and no interpretation was given. Jean knew, though, that this did not end the danger.
�We do not need to write our symbols down, because our minds are sharp and we remember. Your people easily forget. Or do not teach well. This much I learned from Jean. Tumba, however, learns well from us. When you see a square with coma inside it means stop. When you see a circle it means turn around. We use these signs in our hunting territory. They are signs that tell others that this is our hunting ground. When you see a triangle with circle inside, it means be careful, trouble ahead of you. We have hundred of signs, and our children learn from us every day. School is all around us. When a boy is three, he learns to hunt rabbit. When he is eight, we teach him farming. Tumba told me that when he was eight, he was already in trouble with your police force. Our children always feel needed and do not cause trouble. When a woman�s breasts mature she gets married. When a boy is 14 we go with him in the manhood school at the Mountain Shima to teach him how to be strong, to look after his family and we clip the penis skin. Then he is ready to marry. As the children get older and have their own children, they become wise, like us. Your schools will make my grandchildren stupid. Like you."
Mfumu waves his arms and the villagers gather all the guns sitting at the porters� feet. They look in alarm at the missionaries, but they are still prisoners and helpless to give advice. Finally, when all the foreigners are no longer dangerous with weapons, the missionaries are released.
�Now you may go. We will not eat you if you leave our village and never return. If anyone returns, he will be dinner. Go.�
At first the missionaries didn�t move, but then Mfumu clapped his hands and the bodyguards began to run, screaming at the porters who fled quickly out of the village, back the way they came. Without anyone to translate, the missionaries, slowly, reluctantly, followed their path out of the village.
Mfumu danced, as Jean had never seen him dance before. But he had reason. Now he had all the weapons he could want.
But one thing he forgot to get, and Jean could not help. He could not get them any more ammunition.
###
Delphin was not ready to give up. The missionaries discussed and realized that some would have to return to Boma and report on the dangers of this cannibal village, while others would stay with him on the trail of potential diamond mines. Delphin saw that the geology was right, and thought he could make some great discoveries. He especially wanted to check those sacred volcanoes. They decided to meet at the priests� house in two weeks� time to give each other reports.
Dick Michael never felt so angry in his life. �I hope by that time to tell you that there are no more cannibals anywhere on this earth.�
CHAPTER 34
The south of the country had not yet experienced the devastation and death in the northern section, where Leopold focused his attention, where minerals and rubbers meant riches for him and where the villages on a good river system, were easy to reach. But the natives had a vast communication network, one that became less and less efficient as their numbers died off. Once there were many millions of people and over the centuries their oral tales told of the devastation as entire villages disappeared and disintegrated on the landscape. But still the drums beat, getting fainter and fainter.
Mfumu knew the oral tales, knew that once there were many people, heard of distant families of his who disappeared. But Mfumu, unlike many chiefs, was a realist. Less people meant more food and power for him. For his attitude, often he was disliked in his own village. But at the same time he kept them safe by refusing all colonists who attempted to gain a foothold in his village. He made an exception for Jean�s group, and while many still feared these �white ghosts of the ancestors,� because they had come to claim their land, even more saw the potential of using their power. No one saw it more clearly than the day they chased Michael�s group away.
Chasing away was not quite enough for Mfumu. He talked to Jean in private one day. �What will those men do now that they know they are not welcome here?�
�I fear they will return, with more guns, in bigger numbers than we can imagine.�
�So they must all be killed?�
�I don�t like the idea, but yes, to protect yourself.� Jean knew the lies now, he knew that Agatha must return to tell her stories to someone, anyone who might help. All these people wanted was to be left alone in their own land to live their own lives. They had families, loves, worries, problems�as human as anyone. They looked different but human appearance is only skin deep, after all.
�Then tell Kinwa to gather up the rifles and give them to the warriors and go after them.�
Jean went to Kinwa but he feared what Kinwa�s answer would be. The answer surprised even him. Kinwa was too busy to worry about them. He was taking warriors out with the guns to kill elephants and leopards. There was a good trade in skins and ivory and he was tired of the slow trade of cotton and coffee. Jean tried to tell Kinwa that the priests will never give them more ammunition but Kinwa only laughed at him.
Jean went back to tell the King. But Agatha told him Mfumu was out hunting, and the way she said it gave him a bad feeling. She was writing, and did not seem too upset over being a king�s concubine. �I think it is time you leave. I will get you a bodyguard to take you back to the priests� house, and from there---.�
She looked from her writing suddenly and spit anger at him. �The priests! You think I will get home from there? Think of something else, Jean�Tumba�if you love these people. Because my article is quickly becoming a book, and the truth needs to be told.�
Jean sat next to her on the cot. �You planned this all along. You did not come to this country as a prostitute. This is a dangerous thing�how did you even get passage on that ship where I first met you? Only women with men came, but you had been alone.�
She laughed. �You should have seen me dressed as a man, Jean. You would have never known me as a woman. I called myself Dick Jones.�
Jean nodded. �Perhaps we can get you home that way.�
�Not yet. I�m not done yet. This living with the king has been fascinating. He has many stories to tell.�
�He is a dangerous man.�
For the first time she put her notebook down, and sighed. �I know.� She grabbed Jean�s arm, pleading. �If I don�t survive, see that this notebook gets back to America. Please? I�ve put my family�s address in the front. Promise me, Jean!�
Jean only said that if he could, he would.
###
Simon saw in the morning something he never could have imagined. He saw a group of hundred women almost naked with chains on their necks. Luebo, the traditional dignitary, and Charles, the colonist chief in Moto, early told him that they made some kind of agreement. That was the agreement.
And he saw a grave�or what had passed as a grave, a downslope of g into trees toward the river, where hundreds of died and naked native bodies lay, mostly male. He immediately fell to his knees, sickened. He thought when he first arrived that the smell was of some vegetation unusual to the main country, and so he thought to get accustomed to the smell. Here the smell was so strong that no plant could begin to imitate. Here was death in all its glory.
Simon felt so bad that he wished that he had stayed in Malinda. Defenseless they were taken hostage for a rubber because already their men had been killed. They were forced to strip trees that had been sacred and useful only as protection and medicine to make factories work better, and they were given nothing�nohting�in return. Simon had wondered over the ships that took the product away and brought nothing back. That was the meaning. They had to feed themselves in the traditional way to keep alive so that they would keep working. If they did not, they ended up fragrancing the air as grave plant.
He decided that in order to do his job, and that apparently included killing, which could be why he was sent to Africa in the first place, he needed to know how this all came to be. He found of the the colonist�s clerks, Edgar Canisius, had talked to one of the women who escaped slavery to become a concubine. Canisius, Simon soon learned, loved the land and its people and was opposed to what he saw, but felt helpless to prevent any of it. He had a concubine, too, a woman he said he loved, named Ilanga, a woman he thought of as having great intelligence. Simon found this unusual. Men did not think of woman as intelligent, but more just as both a nuiance and a necessity.
He told Simon Ilanga�s story.
Our village is called Waniendo and our chief is called Niendo. It was a large village near a small stream and surrounded large field of Mohomo (cassave) and Muhindu (maize) and other food. We all worked hard and always had plenty to eat. We never had a war in our country and the men had no weapons except knives. We were all busy in the field hoeing the plantation for it was the rainy season and the weeds sprang quickly up. A runner came to the village saying that many white men were coming, wearing red caps and blue cloths, carrying guns and long knives, the chief of whom was Kibalanga (African name of Public Force). Niendo at once called all the men with the drums beating.
A long consultation took place while the African hospitality let us women bring the ground nuts, goats, and fowl for the visitors. Niendo the chief gave them presents of food and African art hoping that the stranger will pass without harm.
When this group of foreigner left, we women went back to their traditional fields. But the Kibalanga didn't move. They camped at the village and then the soldiers came and took all the fowl and goats. They tore up the cassava�but the men did not fight them because they had not yet hurt anyone.
The next day, the soldiers came into the village and threatened to kill the chief Niendo with their rifles. They went through all the houses and dragged the men out and put them in chains. They came to my house and took my husband Oleka, telling us he would die if we tried to fight them.
We women gathered and cried because we knew then that they were being taken away for slavery. The soldiers beat them with iron sticks from their guns, and when many of them resisted they were shot dead and sent to the grave. Then when they had taken the men they started to return for the women. Many women were taken, but some remained to work in slave camps here in our own village. I gave favors to the soldiers to be allowed to stay. I have had children from them, and they too, were taken.
The agreement that Moto chief Mungulu signed with the colonists was to let them live in their own village but take as hostage the women to slave on the rubber trees.
Simon knew this story was like many others. He knew these stories before he agreed to come to Africa. He felt he would be right at home in the slave killing fields. Blood did not make him queasy. But he thought of his homeland, and he thought of the new rumors of life on other planets, coming down someday to make slaves of them the way they conquered other people. And then, after thinking this, every time he saw the abuse, he could feel it on his own back. It did not feel so good.
CHAPTER 35
At first Michael�s group thought to go and enlist help to kill the cannibals from the priests, who were the closest white men around. But he knew, as missionaries, they would not be welcomed by the priests. He thought priests were very biased against them and unforgiving, which is not the kind of God he worshipped.
So instead he took his group further into the interior. Delphin felt he was on the trail of some diamond mines and that would suit his missionary work just fine, as well. They could no longer go back to the village because they had no weapons, but Michael could fully understand why his brothers to the north were killing natives every chance they got. At first he thought that was wrong. They always say you must see a situation before you can understand it. Dick Michael now felt he understood everything. He only wished he could go back and destroy a village himself.
Finally a great idea occurred to him. He told Delphin to take five porters and go on ahead. He was going to take the rest and go back. They had the guns, but Michael wanted to gamble that they didn�t have any ammunition. All they had to do was lay low outside the village until they hear much gunshot, and then silence. They had much ammunition on them. The rifles were useless without that.
He knew the rule was to first use the peaceful method to use the Bible to preach the gospel and create friendship. After all, Leopold had promised in his conquest to use philanthropic measures. But if that failed, to use force, and they would be justified in knowing that the natives were too stupid to be civilized. Humans killed animals to eat, and they killed other humans who acted like animals to conquer.
Before he left Delphin asked if he was sure he knew what he was doing.
Michael answered, "I know what is important and necessary to do. To conquer the land. We followed the legal procedures and we fail. Now we have to use our mind and our weapons to get control of this land. Mfumu is an enemy of peace. He is nothing but trouble to our future fortunes. We must now get rid of him by force, and support any indigenous who supports our cause."
He took a breath, still in shock: "How can a human refuse to have nice house, build an hospital, build a school for his own people? On top of that he wants to walk around wearing animal skins? He defends his practice of eating other humans? How can we then say he is human?"
Delphin didn't have a specific position on this subject. "We all condemn cannibalism. Unfortunately due to my job I won't be living permanently with you. I have many lands to cover, to keep reporting my findings to Boma Boma and Europe. I can only give you some advice. They see the need for schools, hospitals, churches, not that important as long that they are happy. Soon or later they will see things our way�you just have to be more convincing. Perhaps if they were all to catch malaria, and only our medicine saves them. Treat some but not others, and they will see. Change out here cannot come instantly. Our biggest mistake is that we want to implement change right away. No patience. If you put a cold water glass in hot water it explodes immediately. That�s what happened in the village today. Let�s be honest with ourselves. There is nothing wrong with those tribes who resist change. We have to focus of making our fortune. I don't want to bring poverty here. I hope that I contribute to bringing happiness more than bringing misery in the name of civilization."
Michael had some kind of respect for the geologist even though he was a man of a short temper. "I don't know what you are talking about. How can someone like you even want to come to a dirty place like this?�
Delphin shrugged. "I am an analyst. I look at all the sides, both the positive and negative consequences of our action. I learned some things today from Mfumu and I interpret it on my way."
"In our group, you are the only man who went to the university," Michael said, nodding. "But out here schooling does not matter. What matters is money. Many people who went to university have no money to buy properties but we who search our fortunes will employ those like you, the so called intelligentsia, to work for us, and we get rich�you don�t. Delphin, we need each other. Let us talk about what is important. You go find your diamond mine. Come back to this place�� Michael searched around and made an �x� with rocks on the side of the trail, �in one weeks� time.�
###
Jean celebrated his victory, the refusal of the establishment of missionaries in the land and the escape of Sudamo. He went back to his wife to hear the good news. They had taken him from his prison and pretended to bring him to the river to bathe him for the meal, and then pretended that he knocked them out with a rock.
After he lay with his wife, she put a hand on her belly. �I think you have seeded me.�
�Already? We have only been married a very short time.�
�But we have been very active.�
Jean kissed her belly. "I am sure it a girl."
"No, it�s a boy�maybe twins.� But Betu seemed worried. When Jean asked her why, she sighed. �There are many things you still do not know.� He waited for her to continue, and held her hand over her belly as though to give her the courage to be honest. �My family is Pomu. You know that. What you do not know is how they despise you. I too married you out of hate, thinking to lure you to the pot. But, my husband, now I think I would die for you.�
�My lovely Betu, I knew much of this already. Well, except that they still wanted to eat me. If you disagree with them, will you be in danger?� He tried to remember his dream from long ago, and if there had been any counsel in them for this moment. That seemed so long ago!
�What will you do with the white ghost woman Agatha?�
�Ah.� He had the feeling she was still jealous. So little they knew of each other, their customs, way of life, and so different they appeared to each other. He had to get Agatha home, somehow. And then he remembered the villages to the north. They were incredibly cruel to the natives, he knew, but they would never hurt a white woman, especially one disguised as a man. He told Betu, and decided on a plan that night.
He went to Mpuwu to get his help, but Mpuwu first needed to talk about Kinwa. He was concerned that Kinwa was never around anymore.
"Understand, he is a Public Force boss now." Jean said. He did not like lying to Mpuwu but one thing at a time. �He has many duties and responsibilities that go far beyond the field work.
�I am glad. He makes me do the whipping. I do not like doing the whipping. Last week I saw him shoot down two of the natives. Shoot them down! When talking might have helped.�
"Do not concern yourself about him. You know right now he is one of the powerful man in this land. If you stand in his way, you may get into trouble."
CHAPTER 36
After they had parted for a couple hours, one of Michael�s porters pointed to the approach of native hunters, carrying leopards and heavy elephant tusks, some bloodied. Tusks had been a frequent adornment in native village houses, only because they had picked them up off the savannahs after the great beasts had died. After these were robbed from them, only live animals could provide what the world suddenly craved. Even pianos needed ivory.
Michael felt alarm�they had weapons, he had only ammunition. But their easy use and carry of the weapons indicated something else to him. Perhaps they can be used to his advantage.
Kinwa led the group and was just as curious about the presence of these men who had been chased away from Kinabe. His orders had been to go out and shoot them all down, and bring them back for the pot. But he had no desire to return to the foolish ways of natives. He lowered a rifle at the group as he neared them.
�What�s your business here?� he said before Michael could get the upper hand.
�I remember you from the village. I think you know my business. I want my rifles back. You can help me get them.�
�And why would I want to do that?�
Michael pointed to the illegal hunt they carried. �You have an eye on your own profit. I like that in a man. You help me get the rifles, and you will get a diamond in return for each one.�
�A diamond?�
�I sent some of my men off because they have the ability to track down the mines. We will be meeting again in a week�s time. They will have plenty of diamonds to give you for the guns. My Lord, you will become the biggest man in the land.�
Kinwa heard what he never heard before, a European who oppressed Africans in Boma calling him a lord. Kinwa pretended not to be shocked.
"My lord, with you controlling diamonds, and me with the weapons and Jesus, we can tame that village very quickly. You were a porter to Jean, no?�
�Yes, I was.� Kinwa was puzzled, hearing no when he meant yes.
�You were given to the wrong colonist. Happens a lot. Join with me and this village will be civilized and tamed and obedient in no time at all."
Michael said what exactly went into Kinwa�s heart. But he pretended not to be interested. �I do not need you. I know where diamonds are, too. If I want them, I go get them.�
�Oh, but you seem already to have your hands full.� Michael was glad that the warriors with them could not speak their European language. �I can free up your time by getting for you much more than you can get for yourself.�
�Getting those guns back will be dangerous. Two diamonds,� he bent down and picked up a stone from the trail, �no smaller than this, for each diamond.� He flipped the worthless stone back to the ground.
"You are their chief warrior, are you not? Getting those weapons will be nothing more than child�s play to you.�
Kinwa raised the gun up at Michael�s belly again. �I was given orders to kill all of you. That would be child�s play, right now.�
Michael threw up his arms and backed away. �All right! Two diamonds each.�
Kinwa kept the rifle up. �How do I know I can trust you?�
�How do you know you can trust Mfumu?�
Kinwa chuckled and lowered the rifle again.
�Besides, those rifles will be no good to you when you are out of ammunition. And I have the feeling that Jean no longer goes to the priests. And if that�s true, how will you sell the product?�
�I sell the product. I go to the priests. I can get anything there.�
�Can you? Does that mean you have to do everything now? Does that seem fair to you?�
"Time is running out for Mfumu�s people,� Kinwa said. �There is a war coming and we need the weapons to fight. I am going tomorrow with another load of product to get the ammunition for the war. I cannot give you the guns until after the war is won. I cannot lose my wife. Mfumu already took my white woman.�
�You have a white woman?�
Kinwa feared he already said too much.
�You sell your product and you get your ammunition. I will see to it war comes quickly and will help you win it. You will become the hero and the new chief of the tribe.�
�I am not a native here.�
�It won�t be the first time a ruler comes from a different territory. Our king Leopold for whom we work for is forefathers are originated from Germany."
"It sounds easy to kill a chief but it is not easy. And all his children must be killed, so that there is a fight over who would be next. But he could die in war. He could be killed by anyone from the inside while in war."
"But time is running out, my lord."
"You go hide in the mountains." Kinwa suggested. �You will see the village of Zonge near there. �You will see when they march out to war and you will go to the place,� Kinwa drew a map in the dirt, �here, by these rock trees, where you will find three rifles. Use whatever ammunition you have, because they will be empty. You attack the Zonge from behind. That will cause confusion so that we will win, under my lead, in the front. I personally will kill Mfumu.�
Kinwa watched the group walk in the direction he indicated. He had sent them to the cannibals� holy mountain area, prohibited to anyone who had not tasted human meat. He believed in curses, but this time, felt the rifles had curses greater than any ancestor. Whether he could trust them or not was not in question. This plan could not fail in any respect. He hurried his warriors back to the village. They had product to get to the priests, so they would have to move quickly.
All that remained was figuring out how to stir the Pomu followers to get the Zonge to attack at just the right time.
###
The Kabinde villagers� biggest ritual took place once a year, where all the cannibals including their enemies met there to perform long and secret rituals. In that mountain were buried all their cannibal chiefs and important ancestors. It was believed that the human beings erupted in those mountain. A formerly powerful volcano, it was now inactive, and contained many of their sacred shining stones they used in their rituals, stones called Umdilo. Special drummers guarded that mountain year round. No one was allowed close to it except during ritual season. The ancestors deserved such protection.
Delphin and Michael were both on their way to this mountain, taking different paths, one to seek out these sacred Umdilo, known by his word as diamond, the other simply to hide in view of the village of Zonge, as instructed. What Kinwa did not know, however, was that the season of the ritual was coming, and both Kabinde and Zonge were going to celebrate together. This was the reason the war had not yet happened. The Zonge planned an attack as soon as the ceremony had ended, and the Pomu followers knew it.
Delphin felt blessed his research. He was sure that his sample once sent to Boma and Belgians will show a positive result in the laboratory. He would need more tools and time to get what he needed. If he had found their sacred site, he would have been able to pick them up off the ground. But Michael�s group, though not looking for diamonds, might just have more luck.
Or no luck at all.
In Kimbuzi, the priest under the direction of father Pascal received the new product from Kinwa with a degree of sorrow. They were sad that now they had to deal directly with a porter and not a colonist. Kinwa told them that if he did not bring it, then Jean threatened to take it to Sam�s house, which is farther, but not as far as Boma. Sam had said that he would help any way he could.
Kinwa was given more ammunition from the priests because he promised to use it to protect and convert the village, the way that was needed. The priests instead knew that the village would be destroyed by those guns, because they were going to send the military from Boma to try and make peace between the two villages. The priests knew what would happen when the military arrives after Zabinde celebrated its victory with guns. Kinwa told the priests how many guns they had. The priests decided to send a military in four times that number.
In the meantime they were happy with the product, and made sure that Kinwa left feeling happy and rich.
While Kinwa was gone, the ceremonies at the mountain began.
CHAPTER 37
This year the chief Mfumu demanded a different kind of ceremony. This year he demanded that the warriors take along all the guns that Kinwa left behind when he took the wagons to the priests. He explained to his people that even though they never fought with their enemies during the ceremonies, if they left the guns behind they could be stolen, and no one would want to miss the blessings of the ceremony to stay behind and watch them.
Fearing the worst, Jean unloaded the ammunition from all the guns before they left. He carried a special pouch with the ammunition, without telling anyone. Betu promised that she was in a good shape to do the walking. And Jean knew that Agatha was told to stay behind because she was a white woman having her menstrual cycle. Mfumu feared this would corrupt the ceremony, as she has never eaten human meat. Jean wondered if that meant he had, but all along accepted that possibility, anyway.
And the plan for Agatha was about to begin. He had told her about Simon�s villages to the north, where the worst of the trouble was, and if she left disguised as a man, with clothes given to her by Mpuwu, she could escape without any harm. He told her she would not see anything more here, but up where Simon lived, there was much to write about. Agatha had tried to argue that she was seeing the corruption from the very beginning here, the downfall of a chiefdom, but Jean swore that he would not let that happen, so she would only be disappointed.
Jean did not know that Agatha knew more than that. She had been listening to the chief as his concubine for a week now, and she was writing down his stories. She knew Jean wanted to be rid of her, because she bothered him. So she dressed as a man and pretended to leave. She wanted to make notes on the ceremony, even though attendance there was forbidden to her.
All these were bad omens for the ceremony. The good omens were that the two priests� servants had died only two days before, both of malaria. One of their wives died as well. They had their modern medicine but it did not help. Mfumu felt that this ceremony would give him the magic to make many more children, as now the disease was spreading the village and two of his children had died. He wanted to make many children with the white woman.
They would have great power.
###
At first the ceremony went as planned. The Zonge, the Pomu Followers, the new group the Piti Rebels, and the Kabinde all got along as family. The drumming, the dancing, the feasting, were all had pleasantly.
But then a Pomu wanted to see what was in Jean�s bag. Betu told him that Jean would never hide anything but this cousin of hers grabbed the bag and pushed Jean to the ground. Betu stood over him, torn between family and husband.
Agatha, in her disguise as a man, knew that she had to stay hidden, but wanted to run to his aid. She saw, then, another group also hiding and watching. They did not seem threatening, as they had no weapons, but she had the fearful feeling that men with weapons were coming, had that feeling every since Kinwa left with the wagons for the priests� house. She knew what they were planning, and felt the end was not far away for Kabinde. They were not going to let the cannibals live.
While the fighting broke out at the Sacred Mountain, Kinwa had returned to the village with more ammunition and some food goods. He could not get the priests to give them the proper exchange for the product and did not know how he was going to get the workers back into the field. The only thing left for him to do was to kill the chief.
On their return, when the warriors saw the empty village, they immediately told Kinwa they must join the ceremony and ran off. Kinwa tried to stop and ask them what they were talking about. He realized he had been too busy to be very involved in the natives� affairs. But when he saw the direction they were running, he decided that he must continue the plan that he told Michael about, and hoped Michael would be smart enough to put his porters to work on an emergency plan.
###
Mfumu tried to restore order by climbing to the sacred mountain ledge and telling the origin cannibal story: �Tshikapa was the first cannibal and one day he was running away from his enemies and came to this sacred mountain, where suddenly the lights of the Umdilo burned into his eyes and made him scream. He felt like he was on fire, and the fire, from that day, was that if he should kill an enemy, he must eat that enemy to absorb his power, or he will only waste away and die.�
The fighting ceased during the story, only to start again when the Pomu opened Jean�s bag and ammunition flew all over the ground. The Zonge suddenly became frightened and ran, as the warriors carrying the empty weapons found they would not shoot and starting trying to load the guns with the ammunition. Jean and his porters never trained them for this task. Kabinda warriors and Pomu Followers and Piti Rebels all fought over the weapons as Jean scrambed to pick up the ammunition.
Finally one warrior hit him over the head, and knocked him out, as Betu screamed over him.
###
Jean woke up back in the village, but his wife was not with him. At first he thought he saw one of the priest servants but then remembered that they were both dead. Finally Agatha took off her porter cap. �I could not leave you, Jean. They would have killed you if I had not stopped them. I told them I was a Ndeko come back to life. Now I will be Agatha again, and I will protect you as the chief�s concubine.�
�Where is Betu?�
Agatha walked to the door of his hut and looked out. �They are ready for war. I fear it will happen soon. They have no leader now.�
Jean sat up. �What? Why? What happened?�
And so Agatha told him as best she could, about how Betu joined with the Pomu Followers and ran to the Zonge village, and on the way the Kabindes loaded some of the rifles and began firing at them, and how Betu fell, shot in the back.
Jean laid back and sobbed, hearing only little of the rest of the story. As the Kabindes and Piti Rebels ran back toward the village, a man hiding in the bushes began to fire at them, and Mfumu was killed, along with one of his sons. Agatha helped everyone get back to the village and sent several warriors, including Mpuwa, to chase the man who was hidden. They are still waiting for Mpuwa to return. She had kept the Pomu from dragging Jean off with them, because several of them said they were going to eat him.
Finally Agatha sat next to Jean. �Do you hear me? The chief is dead, and there is no one to take his place! There is a war coming and someone must lead these villagers. Jean, that someone is you!�
�No. My life here is over. I will take you north, and we will leave all this danger behind.�
�You cannot be serious. Don�t you love these people?�
Jean didn�t answer. Finally, in anger, Agatha stood. �Well, I do, and I�m staying.�
Jean grabbed her hand. �Are you a prostitute?�
She laughed.
�I thought I could love you until I realized you didn�t mind living with the Chief.�
�I think everyone deserves the chance to change career paths, even a woman. I will write this book, and I will become famous. Then I will be worthy of a man�s proper proposal. You want to look down on me? Go ahead.�
�So you�re here because you have nothing left to lose.�
Agatha fled his hut in anger. But once outside, she realized how much he hurt over losing his wife. This was no time to feel pity. Things would soon change to make him see that either he fight, or he lets himself die.
CHAPTER 38
Once the chief of the village was dead, tradition told the villagers to break off into new groups and form new villages. The Pomu Followers ran to the Zonge village to become a part of them, where many of their relatives already lived. The Piti Rebels and the Mfumu Loyals still had to decide what to do. They knew that the Zonge might come yet and try to kill them all so that they could not form new villages, so for now they waited for Mpuwa to return and many also thought that Kinwa would return. Many wanted Kinwa to be the new chief.
But Kinwa, after killing Mfumu, ran off in the direction of the hidden rifles. He hoped he could run fast enough to bring them to Michael�s group, but there were several fast runners following them.
Michael, from his position in the mountain, saw Kinwa stumbling with the weapons and told his porters it was time to act. They all grabbed rocks and sticks and jumped up screaming. But the two warriors with Mpuwa had their poison darts with them and began shooting. They were remarkably good at hitting distant targets. Michael did not have any weapons for his ammunition and did not see how to get to Kinwa. Their rocks and sticks did not make good weapons. His porters were falling paralyzed around him, and some were screaming, �don�t let them eat me!�
That was enough for Michael, who ran off with several porters to get far away from any more cannibals. He looked behind him once, in time to see Kinwa beaten to the ground by one of the warriors. He didn�t look back again.
Mpuwa and the two warriors beat Kinwa to death and then began to carve his meat.
###
Jean remembered the warning that the priests told him. �The cannibal instinct always comes back. They are kind people but they will not give up human meat.� He thought about Betu, and her people, all wanting to keep the old way of doing things, all against Mfumu taking the rifle and using it for war. He thought about the trip to the sacred mountain, and how Agatha was not supposed to be there but went anyway, and his ammunition, and all that brought the curses. And the rifle, that killed his beloved Betu. The woman who gave him so much joy. The woman who made the unthinkable true. To be loved by a model he envied so much in Europe but had no dream or hope of being touched by those kinds of beautiful creatures�now dead. All the fortune he made, all the glory he enjoyed meant nothing. He hoped only to join her in death. Even more�that he never should have been born. The biggest mistake was to be born. Every thing meant nothing. Vanity of vanity everything is vanity.
He had tried to change her people by allowing the whipping, and the growing of product for the priests, who never had any intention of converting them or even providing them with good exchanges. And he was a boy, only a boy, who had a bad dream once and never listened to it. It was time to go home, and pretend all of this never happened.
His head hurt, but he got to his feet. There was a great deal of noise outside and he was curious. He wanted to ask where Betu�s body was, so that he could be really sure it was all over for him here. No loving wife, no children, no tribe that treated him like family. Mfumu was dead, and now the worst will happen as other leaders are chosen, all ready to put him in the pot.
There were loud conferences in the village because the chief warrior was gone and a war was being planned. He did not see any of his relatives, the Pomu, but he knew he belonged with them in this war. As he came out, the villagers all looked at him, and he felt like nothing more than a side of beef. But what stopped them from arresting him was the sound of gunfire in the distance. No one understood what it meant. All the weapons they had were emptied of ammunition, and were laying useless on the ground, along with the bag Jean had used for bullets. They had chased the Zonge and Pomu and now when the war comes, will have to go back to the old way to fight�if they remembered how. He felt they probably did.
How much has happened in such a short time!
###
Jean did not keep up with the happenings back on the continent. He did not know the desperation of industry to get the materials they needed. The demand of rubber kept increasing for the tires of militaries truck, jeeps, and warplane. Another rebellion took place along the popular caravan route around the capital Boma. There was a station there called by the founder Rommel called Baka Baka (capture capture). A local chief called Nzansu led the uprising, ambushing and even killed the station founder called Rommel with his two white compatriots and their Porters. Simon was brought in from where he had been learning to kill natives to join the Public Force being called together to go against the cannibals.
When Simon heard that they would go against the place where Jean had been sent, he knew that he would have to help his friend Jean escape. He had seen enough blood and killing even to calm his angry and violent desires. He asked to be one of the leaders of a squad, and the night before the march, replaced all their ammunition with blanks.
He knew he couldn�t stop this march, because now everyone knew that trying to convert these cannibals, this last group of people, was a failure. They would never sign a treaty to give up their land and they would rather die in their bathing river than be whipped to giving produce and getting nothing in return. They had a very strong spirituality that told them that death was not a bad thing, if it was honestly won.
Simon knew that these kinds of people were hard to beat, and he was ready to kill them, too. But Jean did not deserve to die with them.
###
Jean and the people watched in the direction they heard the gunshots. All talking had stopped. Some of them fled and hid. None of them had any weapons with ammunition, but several held their spears tight, waiting.
All Jean cared about was finding his beloved Betu, kissing her one last time. But instead of Pomu warriors, he saw only Mpuwa and two Kabinda warriors. Behind them they dragged some meat that looked human. Jean went to his old friend. �What is this?�
Mpuwa dropped Kinwa�s corpse. �Food.� He put a hand on Jean�s shoulder. �You were wrong. He was not much trouble at all.�
�Kinwa killed the chief?� Jean nodded, knowing now why Kinwa no longer seemed to care about the people. He learned to care about the money more. �You, Mpuwa, will return to your ways of eating humans?�
He laughed. �I do not know that I ever left.� He turned to the people and lifted the gun high. All of the people cheered him, and after a big conference, they agreed that they could keep the guns and still be a tribe with old customs. They could stop eating humans because with fewer village members there would be more food. They could wear the new clothing and still be native peoples. They made Mpuwa the new chief, a chief who agreed after eating this human, Kinwa, that they would still trade with the foreigners but make their own demands, and never sign any treaties.
Mpuwa told them that the big war was now coming with the traditional cannibals, and they must prepare. But they would win, because they believed in modern ways.
Jean feared the big war, if it meant that he would now have to fight and kill Betu�s family. He was stuck in the middle and didn�t know which way to turn.
He had the brief thought�that he must be a man now. He hadn�t thought of his mother in a long time. He decided only to stand in the middle, and let himself be killed. He hoped his mother would understand.
###
The Zonge and Pomu went bravely to fight the Zabinda warriors who had guns, and now with the capture of Michael and Kinwa, plenty of ammunition, too. They felt they would die, but it would be honorable to die bravely, fighting for their right to hold on to their traditional ways.
But one of their runners came to the Pomu leader before they traveled very far, and said that there is a big colonist party heading for the Zabinde village. Many men, warriors by their dress, all dressing alike, and all carrying the rifles. The Zonge warriors sent five men to go and witness what was about to happen. Good oral stories come out of every day�s events, stories they would tell their grandchildren.
They heard the drums of the village begin, and knew that the drums meant they saw the war coming from a different direction than the Zonge village. The drummer beat the drum to send the message to all of the cannibal race of the approach of colonists, and the decision was not to talk but to attack.
As the Zonge warriors watched, the village prepared to face this new threat and only hoped not to have to fight in two directions at once. But Mpuwa told them to be brave and strong and they would all survive.
Agatha saw Jean doing nothing, just standing there as everyone raced around him to gather their weapons and shields. She saw the colonists and knew that they would leave no one alive. As the firing began, she couldn�t decide what to do. She had to live, she felt, to sell her book as a witness to all the horrible things in Leopold�s Belgian Congo. But she couldn�t just watch Jean die. How could he love a native woman so much? And as she watched the attack, she remembered Mfumu�s touch, and how Jean criticized her.
She couldn�t stand her thoughts any more. She ran to Jean as bullets raged around her, and grabbed him. But he would not move. So she threw her arms around him and held on. When she looked up, she could see Simon staring down at them. He grabbed her hand, and patted Jean�s face. Jean looked up, and smiled.
Simon grabbed them both and took them to safety, as the scream and attacks around them continued.
This, he told them as they hid, was only the first group of Belgians soldiers coming to open up the land for the next 200, who were also bringing fifty dogs and would hunt out the minerals that Kinwa told the priests were here�somewhere. He asked Jean if Jean knew, but he only shook his head.
Simon told them that all the heavy guns they heard were shots on humans under the leadership of commandant Bardo Bingham, the man who sent Jean to the southern part of Congo. Sent him there to die. �They�re going to get the diamonds, Jean. If the three of us act quickly, we can beat them to them. Tell me where they are.�
Jean only shook his head.
�You know, I could tell them to kill you right now.�
Agatha stood and slapped Simon. �Is that all this is to you? A way to get rich? People are dying here?�
Simon rubbed his cheek and smiled at her. �Dying, yes. Can I help that?�
�Yes, you can. Help me get back to the States. I have a hell of a story to tell. I can�t promise you riches, but I can promise you fame.�
###
The citizen became a foreigner in his own land. The citizen became a slave for his own goods. The citizen became a servant of his own wealth. The owner became a debtor of his own resources.
The cannibals, once a whole village, had split up into many, and only some were finding their fate at the hands of the colonists, for now. The rest decided to move farther away, closed to the rapids, to protect their mountain and their way of life. They were not able to fight and win against the new invaders in their ancestor land, but they refused to be humiliated under the leadership of foreigners. They burned all the modern clothes and gave up all the goods that Jean had first brought them. Many of them still wanted his blood, or at least to find that his blood already enrichened their soil.
As they prepared to leave Zonge, the natives talked about all that had happened.
"This is the sad day of my life. The foreigners who used to be boiled into our pots took our gods and our land and make us run to survive.�
�The bad day was the day Jean lifted himself from our cooking pot.�
"I will always run to save my people, and my way of life. Running is better than losing. Let us go far from all these enemies. Let us enjoy our peaceful way of living. Let us be happy with what we know is good to us."
�Let us be naked and live close to our ancestors. We will kill all enemies and foreigners without discussion, as the way we once did, to stay safe. They talk, but their talk is all lies.�
Betu, saddened by the thought that even if Jean were alive, they would never let her see him again, prepared herself to leave with them, and to raise his child with love and his memory.
THE FINAL CHAPTER:
Jean is ready to see the body of his dead beloved wife, and Simon and Agatha go with him to the Zonge village, carrying weapons in case they thought they could kill and eat them. Now they would know better. Jean asked to see the body of his wife, one last time and then he would leave them in peace forever.
But he heard a scream and saw a girl running toward him. Betu�she had not been killed. Agatha gave a cry of surprise and then she and Simon hugged as Jean and Betu kissed and caressed each other in fond happiness.
�How do you live, when I was told you died?�
Betu told him that her sister pushed her to run with them, stayed behind her and kept pushing, until she was shot in the back. And then Betu was so scared that she kept running, because she thought Jean was dead and all she could think about was saving his child.
�Come with me, Betu, we are moving back to my home country. I will take good care of you there.�
But Betu said no. She had seen enough of his world, and preferred her own. The Zonge and Pomu, now that the colonists knew where they lived, were going to have to move further into the mountains, and hide. That was when Jean noticed that they no longer wore any of the clothing he brought, and had discarded all the weapons they once had.
Jean looked back at Simon and Agatha. �I must go with them.�
�No!� Agatha said. �If you do, it will only be a matter of time before you end up in their pot. You are different than they are, and they will never let you forget it.�
Jean held Betu close. He looked at her and kissed her. �It does not matter. If that happens, at least I will have known happiness.�
Agatha tried to run to Jean but Simon held her back. They watched, as Jean walked into the Zonge village.
They turned and walked away.
And never saw him again.
EPILOGUE:
The Zonge and Pomu, just calling themselves the Sudamo, moved closer to their sacred mountain. On the way they came upon a colonist who was loading up his bags with their sacred stones. Jean recognized him and asked to be the one allowed to shoot the poison dart. As he lay paralyzed, Delphin told them the story of how his porters had died, and how he was going to make sure the cannibals got to have a lot of food by selling the diamonds.
They ate him anyway.
Jean after escaping the human's pot in the hand of the African tribe cannibals returned to Belgium as his exploiting territory was taken by the government for exploiting the African's gods, diamond. Jean after returning to Belgium with his African wife called Juliana and his first son called Africa. Juliana gave birth to another son that he called Congo but the name was written the Africa's way: Kongo. The African dialects write C as K. He was invited by an author Conan Doyle and journalist Morel who wrote about Africa.

Hosted by www.Geocities.ws