The Golden Flute 3: The Meeting

The Golden Flute 1: The Genesis

The Golden Flute 2: The Annoucement

******************************************************

 

The evening was cool.

Dafe made his way to the hut.  He took a plate and headed for the front yard.

He sat underneath the mango tree at the side of the hut.

Setting the meat on the plate, he began to devour his venision.

 

‘This will go down well with a palm wine’, he said to himself.

Recalling his father’s excitement when he ate a good delicacy.

‘Papa would have loved this’, he exclaimed.

When he was done he rubbed his hands over his shorts and wiped his mouth too.

grrhhhh, he burped.

 

He managed to get up taking his plate along with him.

He took his small clay cup to fetch some water from the water pot.

Paced around a bit in the hut, not sure if he wanted to sleep in it.

‘Let me stay outside’ making a decision. His late mom’s wrapper was folded along with other cloths in the wooden-weaved box. He took it along with him and went out.

He spread the wrapper under the shaded mango tree canopy. Perfect for his sleepy head.

Not long afterwards he dosed off!

Suddenly, the birds began chirping loudly…loud enough to wake him up.

He looked up and saw that it was getting dark.

Oh No! The village meeting!

 

He hurriedly took the wrapper dashed into the hut, he threw it on the bed.

He grabbed his little lantern along with him in case the meeting lasted intothe night.

Dafe sped off to through the bushes running as fast as his little legs could carry him.

Everywhere was busy, noisy and crowded.

The villagers were pressing closer to the King’s seat. The chiefs had their seats arrayed close to the Royal seat.

Every other villager would have to fight for a spot close enough.

But the guards did enough to drive them back and settle them peacefully.

‘The King isn’t there yet. That means I got here on time’, Dafe spoke under his breathe.

The noise grew louder as the crowd increased.

Quiet! Quiet! the guards would yell once or twice on each occassion.

Finally, The King arrived. Led by his entourage he made his way through the throngs of people. He was a fat and sturdy man.

As he drew nearer, you could see the people shuffling to make room for his passage.

A man of few words yet revered among his people.

The Royal guards held their whips in case anyone would make trouble.

 

Sudden silence calmed the steaming crowd.

Dafe drew closer. No one would notice him among them.

They were eager to listen to the King.

‘Greetings My People’ said King Dike.

‘Greetings Our King’ The villagers responded bowing their heads to him.

‘The Golden flute has returned to our community’, the King said in a loud voice.

The villagers cheered and whispered to each other. The guards calmed them down.

Be Quiet! Be Quiet! they would say each time.

 

‘And you all know what that means. The visit to the Flute will commence tomorrow at 6am until midnight.

You shall all assemble here according to your families’ the King continued. The guards would be here to direct everyone’, he continued.

 

The cheering was louder than before the people jubilated. This time the Royal guards joined in and quieted them.

The King greeted the people once again rose to his feet, signalled his Royal guards and left for his palace.

The community bowed as he left the Royal seat and the Royal guards quickly followed behind him.

It was getting darker. Walking in groups the villagers headed different directions talking and laughing loudly.

It was a good news indeed.

 

Dafe stealthily joined some villagers heading his way, walking closely behind them.

Their conversations were deafening his busy mind. Each person declaring on top of their voice what they would do the next day.

The children were not left out too.

Every person was ecstatic except Dafe.

Soon he followed his own tracks into the bush.

He remembered the blessings of the Flute his mother had told him.

The popular story of the White man Evangelist and His the Golden Flute.

‘He was such a great man who healed people’, his mother would say.

Upon the Golden Flute he would play. With tears and sometimes words, he would call his God.

Fascinated yet confusing, the villagers assumed the Flute must be a messenger to his God.

The rumor spread even within neighboring villages.

‘Perhaps it was a carefully devised plot to have it but the evangelist left the Flute behind when he returned to his homeland’, his mother would say.

Mama said the Golden Flute grants only one wish, Dafe echoed his thoughts as he went along.

He continued to ponder upon these things.

It was the first time he would see the Golden Flute. He knew what his request would be but he was bothered by uncertainties

He got to his hut and sat down on his mattress.

Far from happy, he thought about all the villagers, their wishes, the Kings as well.

When and how would he get a chance to speak to the Flute.

He began to cry.

If only the Golden Flute would grant my request.

He adjusted himself on the bed lying faced up.

What would tomorrow bring?

Would the God of Mama be kind to me?

Would Papa’s God grant my request?

To Be Continued…..

 

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