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9. The Triumphal Return of the Forgotten Muchoni
- LANGAA RPCIG
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43 9. T The Triumphal Return of the Forgotten Muchoni hen I was growing up, I used to hear that there was a kinsman of ours, Spikita (now known as Muchoni – the long gone), who had ventured into the urban areas in the 1960’s and never to be seen again. Muchoni had been notorious for ‘witching’ so we heard. Many accused him of keeping scandalous human skeletons and stinging bees in his closet. Several theories were put forward about what exactly had happened to the ‘prodigal son’. Some said he had met his match and had been extinguished from the face of the earth, others said he had used love portions to marry a very beautiful Ndebele woman in Silobela where he was said to be living. Others said he had joined the ‘Great Trek’ to Joni – Johannesburg, South Africa where many men during those days went in search of greener pastures. Nobody really knew where Spikita was. The whole village soon forgot about him. Sometime in 1995, I visited home. When I arrived at Senganai, our nearby shopping centre, I was greeted by a cousin of mine who appeared very excited. He told me that Much (many preferred to use that name when referring to Muchoni because it suites his status as diasporan) had been spotted in Gweru. I soon realised that the whole village was awash with rumours that Much’s return was imminent. I could not hide my anxiety to meet Much. Two days later, Much returned home in a blaze of glory. The witch tag on Much had been relegated to the dusty drawers of history. Time had erased it all from the minds of W 44 the villagers that Much had witch tag on his name. Much was now simply viewed as a prodigal son and welcomed with loving arms. His home was a hive of activity with people giving him presents. I had an opportunity to meet him at his home. He looked frail and certainly qualified to be a member of the ‘geriatric brigade’. I was introduced to him and we instantly liked each other. I liked the lighter side of Much. He joked a lot. Each time I would go home, I would make Much my drinking pal. He despised the other senior citizens. On hearing that I was a product of the University of Zimbabwe, Much was at pains to say that he did not trust the rural folk because they were not ‘educated’. He regarded himself as educated although my father tells me he went up to standard 1. The only English he would speak was something like, ‘I mean what koro’ (whatever that meant). Such was the story of Muchoni’s triumphal return to his roots. [44.210.107.64] Project MUSE (2024-03-28 12:41 GMT) ...