SONG OF SIWANO


He lurks in the shadows…waiting and watching for his victims. It so queer that mothers in the village warned their children against everything else, except he that is called Shigologolo, the wretched. They said “Don’t go near so and so’s house because they have the evil eye” or “don’t pass by that side of the river because the village mad man lives there” or “don’t talk to Mukwesa or her children…they will ruin you with their bad manners”. The list of don’ts is endless. Yet, hardly anyone mentioned the wretched. Except the mad man, of course, but nobody listened to him anyway.

I never thought much about it, not until the day the wretched came after me. He crept up ever so unhurriedly…inaudibly….but with such swiftness that I did not have time to react. In fact, for a moment, I was unaware of what had happened. Then the pain began and the darkness overwhelmed me. He engulfed me and I failed so miserably at setting myself free! “How did he get me? Wasn’t I looking? Wasn’t I keen enough? Why did no one come to my rescue?”. There was no answer to my questions and silence reigned.

Days crept on by…as I lay captive in the wretched’s lair. I heard my mother’s voice calling from a far and those of my sisters, my brother and my friend Keke. Yet I could not answer, for the wretched’s hold was unending. As I lay in the darkness, slowly… a song of victory grew in me and each evening I sang….

Shigologolo! Shigologolo! You hurt me so. Who gave you permission? Who allowed you to come this far? Who opened the doors to you? Who gave you aboard? Aren’t you filled with shame? Aren’t you mortified by your own decay? Aren’t you discomfited? Shigologolo!

You hurt me so. You caused me to bleed. You sent me away from my place of comfort and peace. You turned me inside out and threw me out like a tattered piece of cloth that nobody wanted or could use. You caused me to scream in fright and dread. You tore my insides ever so wretchedly. Shigologolo!

When the sun rises over the horizon, ever so glorious, I will rise with it Shigologolo. I will rise and rise until the entire village sees me. I will soar over the thatched roofs and green fields of Siwano. I will mock you in my flight for I will have gained victory. Shigologolo! You will remain your sordid ugly self, wallowing on the ground whilst I shine up in the sky. Shigologolo!

By and by, my song grew louder and my resolve even stronger. One morning, the wretched was gone. He set me free as he fled…..for the song was too strong for his soul. And every time I sang …he died in himself.

- Herispeak

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