“Don’t tell me about other homes!” Sithole shouted at Priest. “I am talking about my own.” He beat his chest. “Is there a man here in Gxumani who slaughters goats and cattle like I do? Hhe?”
“No,” Priest said coolly.
“Now how can you expect me to be content with what happens to the other homesteads? No, Gumede,” the anger in Sithole was growing as he spoke.
Priest did not know what to say. How could he tell his friend that religion is not what they have both thought it is? “The invasion of the Killer Bees is as shocking to us as it is to you.”
“What is that now?” Sithole was confused.
“I mean these people who have come to rob us of the little food we have. They are Killer Bees because they make the sound of bees and look very much like killers, which they are.”
“Hmn! I hate this life! I have never been this confused before. Every time I had a problem I burnt incense and spoke to my ancestors, now I am sure that I have been talking to myself and feeding the poor people of Ndlalidlindoda. Now I don’t know what to do. Would you teach me how to pray?”
Priest ignored that question and said to his friend, “You know what I think?”
“How can I know anything if things are like this?”
“Imagine if the Killer Bees came to save us, not to destroy us?”
“What? I talk to you about something serious and you tell me that?”
The Killer Bees stayed and ate in Ndlalidlindoda for about a week. It was on Tuesday the following week that Priest, and all the people of Hunger-Eats-a-Man, were summoned to attend the meeting in an open area bordering the Phanekeni and Mswane sections.
During the week of their stay, the Killer Bees communicated among themselves, as Priest could tell by the coming and going of messengers to his house. They were reporting to MaSkhwama about their progress in the homes they occupied and to take orders from her. Now it was the time for the Killer Bees, whom Priest had heard call themselves The Destitute, to take up their second step of action.
The people Priest and MaDuma found in the open space just above Yizo-Yizo were so many that Priest felt his scalp tingle. The Killer Bees were armed as before, guarding MaSkhwama, who was speaking through a loudhailer to reach the ears of all who were in attendance.
“I know that those who live here in Ndlalidlindoda are angry with us and think that we are violent and rude.” MaSkhwama paused to listen to the response of her audience. There was utter silence. “But I think it may be possible that you will thank us when this is over! Our coming here resulted from the amount of suffering we have gone through. It had reached its limits and we recognised the need to do whatever we could to change our situation.”
The people who were listening to MaSkhwama’s speech were all seated on the grass. More and more people were arriving, and Priest noticed that some came from as far as Tonga and Place of Power. Everybody looked as grave as if they had lost their loved ones.
“We thought the time has come for the poor to regain their legacy from the rich.”
This angered Priest so much that he said his thought aloud. “But why didn’t you go to Canaan? You know that we are as poor as you are!”
“I was coming to that, Mr Gumede,” MaSkhwama started in her serious tone. “We were aware that to achieve our goal, we needed to get as much support as possible.”
She was interrupted by another voice from the crowd. “And what you earned is the direct opposite!”
“I think I should remind you, people of Ndlalidlindoda, that I hate it when someone enters into my mouth. Where I come from, people listen and only speak when they are given a chance.”
The response to this was the soft and troubling buzz of the Killer Bees. Priest felt a pang of fear running down his spine.
“Now, where were we?” MaSkhwama said, as a way of calling everyone to the matter at hand. “Oh, I was saying that we came here not because we are oblivious to your economic problems. We came exactly because of them.”
The countenances of many people changed as they heard this. They thought MaSkhwama was mocking them. Even Priest couldn’t believe it and said to himself, “This woman is a lousy speaker! Uyibhimbi!”
“What I mean is that we came to realise the graveness of our situation when we had completely run out of food. Go to any shop at Spolweni or White Mountain and you will find that there is practically nothing. You can have your money but you will die with it because there is nothing!”
MaSkhwama took about twenty minutes explaining to the people of Ndlalidlindoda that they needed them to be in a situation just like theirs so that they too would have nothing to lose and thus have nothing to fear. They, The Destitute, had come to Ndlalidlindoda with their children, not afraid of what could happen to them because they were all dying of hunger anyway. They had come to them first, because they knew that if they were to attack the people of Canaan, they had to be as numerous and as resilient as possible.
“So, on behalf of The Destitute, I would like to say we are sorry to all you people of Ndlalidlindoda and I hope you understand what I have been trying to explain. The question now is whether you are willing to stand up and fight for your lives?”
There was silence as she waited for a response. Those who knew Priest and were seated closer to him looked at him as if saying he should speak for them. Priest, in turn, glanced at his wife and she nodded approval.
“I don’t think I have the power to speak for everyone, but as for me, I think it’s about time we dealt with these rich pigs who eat everything while we starve. Our language says that the inheritance of the fools is eaten by the clever. I do not think there is anyone here who is a fool!”
There was concurring noise from the people, and the Killer Bees buzzed.
“I do not like violence!” Priest continued after the murmurs and the buzzing had ceased. “But I do believe that there comes a time when the people have to fight for their lives, and I think that time has come for us.” Priest paused, took a heavy breath and looked as if deep in thought. Those who knew him realised he was getting into the mood of speaking, and they braced themselves to listen and relish the act. It was always captivating to listen to this man through whom, some believed, God spoke.
“Let me tell you a little story …” He listened again for the audience’s reception of this introduction. He sensed that they wanted to hear it. “In the last few weeks I got so hungry that I forsook God! I told myself that God lives up there in heaven and cares for no one but His Son, Jesus. But now I am convinced that the coming of the Killer Bees is the answer to all our prayers.”
The people whispered when he mentioned the Killer Bees and laughed when he explained why he had given them that name.
“I think the answer I have found is that God will not do things for us, but will support us if we stand up and do things for ourselves.” He suddenly paused, thinking he might have taken more than enough time, so he concluded, “As for me, I join the Killer Bees!”
The people clapped their hands and Priest gave the loudhailer back to MaSkhwama.
After the clapping had subsided, MaSkhwama asked the other people of Ndlalidlindoda if they agreed with Priest, and the answer was an astounding “Yes”. She then expressed her gratitude that the people of Ndlalidlindoda were now their colleagues and were willing to invade Canaan with them.
“But I have to warn you that going there will not be as easy as our coming here. The police and soldiers have a way of responding when the interests of the rich are at stake. We have to be prepared for that!”
The Killer Bees, who now included the people of Ndlalidlindoda and those from Tonga and Place of Power, voiced their willingness to fight and die, or get arrested, if it came to that.
“Besides,” one man stated, “if we get arrested, we will get food in jail.”
The thought of being jailed and fed was not very disagreeable to many people.
It was then decided that The Destitute would make a plan of action. They needed to be care
ful when dealing with the people of Canaan. Since there were now so many people, it was decided that they form a committee that would be involved in planning the actions of The Destitute because, as the saying goes, too many cooks spoil the broth. This committee comprised forty individuals, twenty men and twenty women. These were elected on merit. Every nominee had to have a record of some courageous deed or be known for a particular talent or for being intelligent. They needed people with different skills to use in this significant and daring adventure. Priest was the first member from Ndlalidlindoda and MaDuma, Belina and MaShandu were also elected. Zodwa wanted to be there but was not nominated.
“This is unfair! I was a member of the Special Five!”
“But you did not deserve to be there in the first place. You were only there because you could run; you have no bravery or intelligence, which is needed now,” MaShandu told Zodwa without feeling pity for her. “You want to be in the committee because you like the front seat!”
The Committee of Forty took another week making plans for the Grand March to Canaan. They met daily to share ideas and discuss each group’s progress. They had divided themselves into five groups of eight members each, representing all the areas forming part of The Destitute. The main predicament that they had to contend with was the police and soldiers, many of whom lived in Canaan anyway. But they were not afraid of violence – hunger was a bigger threat to their lives.
The arrival of the Killer Bees at Ndlalidlindoda initiated a great deal of excitement and confusion in Canaan. The contempt borne by the Canaanites against the poor people increased when they began to live under the fear of an attack from Ndlalidlindoda. They could not understand why these people were unable to better their lives as they themselves had done. Why were they willing to deplete their strength in destroying other people, instead of using it to help improve themselves? Because they were lazy, silly and jealous. They were too lazy to work for the betterment of their own lives and too stupid to grasp the fact that their strengths would be better employed if they developed them. They were also too jealous to stomach the success of those who worked hard to reach the top.
However, no matter how much the Canaanites theorised about this, the fact still remained that their problem was a practical one. They had title deeds to their houses and sites, and they bought all the food they ate, and toiled for every penny they spent and saved for their children. Yet that in itself could not prevent the jealousy-infected people of Ndlalidlindoda and the Upper Regions from attacking them. They were savages and never thought before they acted. They just wanted to punish the people of Canaan for their success, and the best thing the Canaanites could do was to stay ready for such an attack.
Bongani took it upon himself to ensure that the people of Canaan, including himself, were well protected against the invasion of the Killer Bees and the fools from Hunger-Eats-a-Man. He requested the National Defence Force to come and help the City Police who were already driving up and down the streets of Canaan, in a vain attempt to assure the inhabitants that they had nothing to worry about. The presence of so many police vans and the arrival of brown trucks with many uniformed men and women told everyone in Canaan that something was very wrong.
When the soldiers arrived in Canaan, armed to the teeth as they were, Bongani thought he was supposed to feel safe, but he did not. He looked around Canaan and noticed, as if for the first time, that it was beautiful, modern and urban. It was indeed the land of honey. There were clean parks with well-kept grass and a number of playing grounds for different sports. The roads were in good order and one of them was even called Hadebe Street. Named after him! Every house in Canaan was beautiful and expensive in its own right, although none topped his double-storey. He was still the only one with a double-storey, or The Stairs as it was known.
He had bought himself a Pajero with the money that was allocated for the development of Hunger-Eats-a-Man. It had been enough for the creation of running toilets and tarring all the roads. But Bongani saw that as a waste because the people of Hunger-Eats-a-Man were used to dug-hole toilets and needed only the main road tarred because the tourists used it. Anything more than that would be a waste of time and money, and he would not let that happen.
Bongani realised that he had too much to lose if the people he called the Filthy-Ones invaded Canaan. He began to have sleepless nights. In the little time that he did sleep, he had nightmares in which the Filthy-Ones attacked him and burnt his new Pajero and his double-storey. Nomsa woke him up as he was kicking and screaming, “People of Canaan, run! The fools from Hunger-Eats are here! Beautiful people of Canaan, run for your lives! The Filthy-Ones are here! They are burning my stairs and my Pajero!”
Nobody slept in Canaan or Ndlalidlindoda on the Saturday preceding the Grand March to Canaan – or the Invasion of Canaan, as the Canaanites saw it. The soldiers, police and the people of Canaan expected an attack in the early hours of the morning, but the Killer Bees and the people of Hunger-Eats-a-Man only appeared after nine. All this time the soldiers and the police had waited with their guns ready. But what appeared in Finn Street and Bonner Street was perceived with great shock and horror.
First came the disabled. There were about forty people in wheelchairs and fifty on either one or two crutches, and a number of disabled people with neither wheelchairs nor crutches. Some of these crawled with both their hands and one foot.
As they watched in wonder, on the other side of Canaan there appeared a multitude of children between the ages of seven and fourteen. They were all naked to the waist, showing their bloated stomachs and their bare ribs. They had big heads which contrasted gravely with their lean legs. As they dragged themselves towards the direction of The Stairs, the police and soldiers’ attention was drawn away from the cripples and they gazed at the children. It was difficult to estimate their number, each carrying an old school bag and some with plastic bags.
“Stones!” a tall, white man with a beard exclaimed. “They have stones in those bags!”
“Or guns!” another suggested gravely. It was difficult to tell which was which. Were these really children or not? And the cripples? Were they really disabled or were they playing them for fools?
The bulk of the people appeared from the east, from the forest that borders Canaan and the area called The Factories. These were the adults. They charged faster than the children and the cripples. They were also half naked, and women with young babies were feeding them on their bare breasts as they marched. It took some time before the forces of Canaan realised that The Destitute were singing, and even more before they heard that they were singing, “We want to live.” They sang their song without force, and the soldiers and police could hear by their voices that these people had gone without food for some time now.
The commander of the Canaan forces was a very dark man in a brown uniform. He rose to the top of the soldiers’ truck and shouted through the loudhailer. He had to move around to ensure that all the charging groups heard him. “Stop exactly where you are or we will shoot!”
He tried to sound as threatening as he possibly could, but it was as if nobody heard him except for the other soldiers and policemen. He noticed the children moving faster and singing louder after he had made his announcement. The disabled also did their best to increase their speed and their singing became shriller.
When the disabled had passed Gxumani Community Hall, Bongani noticed that The Destitute were all heading for Hadebe Street.
“They are going to my stairs!” he told the group of confused and cursing Canaanites. “Please stop them! They are going to burn my stairs and pollute my air!” he begged the soldiers, who had their guns ready, but who did nothing. The inhabitants of Canaan were now not only cursing The Destitute, but the police and soldiers too for wasting time instead of shooting the bastards.
Nomsa was looking around for the women of the Grinding Stone. It was hard to tell them apart from the other women. But then suddenly she saw them. It was MaDuma and Zodwa, who were close to each ot
her. They were so emaciated that it was hard for her to identify them.
“MaDuma! Zodwa!” Nomsa shouted. “What is this nonsense? These people you are attacking are your fellow women of the struggle and their children. Don’t let these men lead you astray! As a leader of the Grinding Stone, I order you and those men and street children to stop this craziness!”
“These men? These street children?” MaDuma could not believe it. What did this woman take them for? “We are here to fight for our rights as poor people, just like we have been fighting for our rights as women. Sometimes these things do clash!”
Bongani had shouted and begged so much that his voice was now hoarse. When he turned around to watch the buzzing behind him, Priest came forward and called, “I told you we would meet again, PRIN-CI-PAL!”
Bongani moved around as if he was mad and said, “Someone tell me what is the use of having the Defence Force if it does not protect us?”
THE END
Priest finishes reading his son’s story and stays in the room for a while. What exactly is this boy saying about them? He has even used their names! But at the end he leaves everything hanging. Why does he not let them beat Bongani and the fat cats of Canaan? But then, Sandile says he did not write it; it wrote itself. What does that mean? After a while Priest goes out. He has a calmness about him that he cannot explain. A good feeling. He knows that this happens to him sometimes. Happiness that comes from no source.
Outside he watches the land and is struck by its beauty. He has not noticed before that spring has come. It has even rained once or twice. Even though the grass is still short – and you can still see the old grass from last season, with its blackness where it was burnt – it is green. His plum tree is blooming. Nature has decorated it with white flowers full of life. He looks up and notices that the firmament is filled with clouds. It will rain today, and he likes it when it rains. Nothing makes him happier than to see the raindrops falling; especially when he is watching it all from the safety of his house.
Hunger Eats a Man Page 15