The Village and Food Hunting Mission - Essay Example

El-nino The rains had for a long time evaded the village turning everything into dryness. The efforts to have the rains back through all the available channels became fruitless, with each day turning for the worst. The animals grew thinner and thinner, with their skeletal shapes giving them ugly appearances. The dry spell had malnourished the village during the harsh times of teeth grinding. An old man stood out in the field to witness the fate of the village and to predict an imaginable future, the beholding future of those who wish to depend on bread and wine. The widths of the miseries were seen to be widening day by day. The sun mercilessly penetrated deep into the soil and stole the remains of the hiding moisture. The evening fires had been lit to console the desperate villagers but they only served to bring alive the unrelenting agony that had shattered the whole land. No form of sound could be heard except for the crying of the very young, who could not be told that there was drought in the land. The dying animals stared into the beady eyes of the insatiable death that hang in a pall as if waiting for them looking from its bloody eyes and the animals could not protest the smoky teeth of the beast. Eventually, they had to surrender in order to mark the end of their intense suffering. Looking through the eaves of his ageless hut, Nyakairima observed the formation of clouds and the rapid onset of dithering rain. This was the happiest sight he had seen since he was born more than nine decades ago. The appearance of shattering torrents of rain did nothing to dampen the spirit of enthusiasm that enveloped the village. Heavy clouds darkened the sky, the darkness politely making its way towards the silent village bringing with it irrepressible laughter and joy. This marked an end to the bleaching times, birthing a warmth in the hearts of the villagers and an altruistic genesis of memorable occasions not witnessed in many months and seasons. Lightning was now striking soon followed by the bombarding thunder in copious amounts. Heavy downpour followed to raucous and rapturous applause. Rays of light penetrated the thick skies and then skipped their way across the mountainous landscape before being echoed back across the farmyard. The impossibly meandered river had received with delight the volumes of water and bulged its way to the outskirts of the village. The winds were soon aggressively digging into the houses, ironically threatening to wreak the splendid joy that had nourished the villagers. “What trick of nature is this? The wind and water are already shaking the hut!” cried the old man amidst the confusion brought about by the storm amidst the celebrations. Suddenly just like it had started, the heavy downpour subsided to the great relief of the villagers. This was soon followed by darkness and a cool night; the first in a long time. The frogs, as if on cue, sprang up a celebratory tune, solely condemning the dry spell with bitter words. They croaked in unison celebrating the end of a crisis and a beginning of a season of honey and milk, their time to once again reproduce, for the continuity of the generations. The silent village whispered their thanks at their fortune to the indifferent ears of the roaring river. Two travelers returning to the village from an unsuccessful food hunting mission arrive at the river only to find the bridge carried away. “I think there should be a way to go through at the next turn” says one to his partner. “If we manage to cross the swollen river, we shall have a lot to tell the villagers” jokes Theodore. Upon getting to the next bend, they find the bridge here gone as well. So Taylor suggests they jump across from a narrower point of the river. The rivers waters were rapidly raising and the rivers width increasing as well increasing the need to hurry. Taylor made a backward movement, energetically ready to make an historic go through. He made a long leap, rushed like a mad buffalo, and at the edge he made a perfect landing. He rolled into the sky and flew his way into the safe side of the river. He had been saved from the wrath of death. “Hurry up man for the time is so short here.” Taylor shouted across the roaring river. Theodore made his way back, sped into a fast run, jumped and lost control, falling into the rushing river. He called for the help but his friend’s attempts to secure his life were totally futile. The currents were quick enough to make away with Theodore whose faint sounds were rapidly consumed by the melodious music of the river. Taylor’s eyes widened in shock, and he blinked in disbelief as he howled into the darkened night. With no one to console him, he moaned to himself, wishing and wishing, but the end of season had came in a graceful way, and had left with his friend and leaving him moaning in pain. The moon lit the slippery path to show the petrified traveler the way back home to the unsuspecting villagers. The villagers woke up early to start their work in the fields but were met by mute astonishment from their fellow villagers. The happiness of yesterday now vanished and converted into anguish. The unbelievable situation that had again visited the upon the village with death was unthinkable just a few hours ago when the villagers went to bed happy that their fortunes were turning around. The villagers and their elders now had the unenviable task of consoling the long suffering villagers to endure the loss immediately after they had endured the ravages of the draught. El-nino had come and now was gone. The shoots of new growth could now be seen in the old mans garden as he stands at the same spot he stood when the rains came heralding the end of the draught. The new shoots signaled new life and continuity in the promising so much life as they sprang around a freshly dug mound of earth marking the burial site of the young man who had died the day that the rains came. The old mans son; the cruelty of it all etched in the creased features of his old tired face. Read More