A story of Victory, Loss and Corruption
The Buffalo,’ said the Weaverbird thoughtfully, as she settled herself more comfortably on the branch above the birdfeeder, ‘might not have been the real winner, after all.’
The flock of bronze mannikins paused at their feeding, looked up interestedly, and one by one flew up to hear the story.
‘uNyathi the Buffalo?’ they twittered. ‘Not the real winner? Not the Real High Champ?’
The Weaverbird began to preen her feathers calmly. When she was satisfied with their shine she resumed her story.
‘He certainly appears to be the real Champ. But what is the reality behind the story?’
‘But there was no doubt,’ the mannikins said. ‘The whole thing was observed by uCikilishe, the Gecko, who was hunting moths in the corner at the time.’
‘Cikilishe, speak!’ Called the mannikins. ‘Did uNyathi truly win the Tavli Championship from uNdlovu the Elephant?’
uCikilishe the Gecko clicked softly from behind the rainwater pipe, where he was hiding.
‘Indeed he did win. I was upside down on the corner of the ceiling at the time, waiting for another moth to come by. I could see the whole room from that vantage point, and I followed the game with as much attention as I could spare from the moths.’
‘It was a great Championship match,’ the Gecko continued. ‘uNyathi the Buffalo won the toss, and began the first game. At first it was neck-and-neck, but uNyathi had the edge, winning four games, while uNdlovu had three. There was uNyathi, smirking away, tossing his horns and showing off as usual.’
The birds nodded. Yes, they knew old uNyathi. Full of hubris. He’d be so certain that the next game would be the Decider of the Match. Not that uNdlovu was much better. She was always making such boastful noises with that long trunk of hers.
‘The Elephant won the next game. It wasn’t very exciting – they each seemed determined to get out of the corner and run as fast as possible to the end. uNdlovu got out just one move before uNyathi.’ Four all! The birds chattered and hummed together. One young bronze mannikin, who should have known better, danced on his perch, squeaking ‘uNdlovu is Champ! uNdlovu the Elephant!’
‘The fifth game was close,’ said uCikilishe, frowning at the young mannikin. ‘But uNyathi the Buffalo is undoubtedly Champ. He won the game. I saw it. He trapped uNdlovu in the corner – not an easy task with an Elephant – and then took some of uNdlovu’s men. There was the Elephant, with nothing to do but wait for defeat, while uNyathi rampaged down the board. Oh, there’s no doubt uNyathi won.’
All the birds looked at the Weaverbird, sitting quietly on her perch.
‘But did you actually see the final throw?’ asked the Weaverbird.
‘Of course!’
‘What did the dice show?’ asked the Weaverbird.
‘Well, I don’t remember,’ said uCikelishe, ‘I was looking at a moth at the time. But I heard the shout when uNyathi won. Can I go now? There’s a fat moth at the window!’
‘Thank you, Cikileshe,’ said the Weaverbird gravely, and the Gecko bowed politely.
‘Gcawu!’ called the Weaverbird when uCikelishe had darted off, ‘Gcawu, the Spider, come out and spin your tale!’
uGcawu, the Jumping Spider, leapt across the branches. As bold as he was, he kept one of his eight eyes nervously on uCikilishe’s vanishing tail.
‘Tell us what you know,’ said the Weaverbird to Gcawu. So the Spider began his story, rather jerkily, as Jumping Spiders do.
‘I was there as well, in that room, on the very night. I was watching uCikelishe – you never know with Geckoes, they’ll eat anything.’
‘Poor Cikelishe, he’s confused,’ continued uGcawu the spider. ‘He became absorbed in a moth on the other side of the room – you know how these Geckoes concentrate, they see and hear nothing else but their prey. I saw uCikelilshe dash across the ceiling, grab the moth, and disappear into the airvent. He didn’t come out until long after the end of the match.’
‘He missed the exciting finish – uNyathi threw a two and a one, and had to uncover one of his pieces. uNdlovu saw her chance, smashed into uNyathi’s men, and blocked all the entry gates. uNyathi the Elephant romped home, throwing six after six, and won the Championship with a bang.’
There was a long silence from the crowd. Everyone was just stunned.
‘There’s more evidence against uNyathi,’ said uGcawu. ‘I was surfing the World Wide Web not long ago,’ he said, ‘And as I was lurking in a Webcam, I happened to see uNyathi. Now, as we know, uNyathi spends most of his time sleeping in the shade, or grazing. He’s a bit of a lazy bugger.’
‘But there was uNyathi, in the middle of the night, with the doors locked and the curtains closed, busy constructing something. He had a pair of pliers in his hoof, and he was twisting some wires together. He was dressed in a long robe, and he had a towel wrapped around his horns. His beard has grown even longer. He looked quite Devilish.’
The bronze mannikins hopped about in excitement, hardly able to keep their perches.
‘I thought no more about it,’ continued uGcawu. But the other day I casually mentioned what I’d seen to my cousin the Scorpion. He seemed quite interested - I noticed his tail curling around his back. He visited me the next day with some of our Scorpion cousins, and invited me to do a little Private Eight Eyes work – as you know, we spiders are well-equipped for that.’
‘The investigation itself was quite dull. Just endlessly examining bank records, one after another. Well, we reported what we had found to Cousin Scorpion. He just smiled with his mouth-parts, and curled his tail a bit more.’
‘It seems uNyathi was so galled by his defeat that he’s been trying to inflate and explode uNdlovu’s bank account,’ continued uGcawu. ‘As we speak, the Scorpions are on their way to his lair, to arrest him on charges of Terrorism. It turns out he has a previous conviction for something similar, and in fact served two years in prison some years ago. He’s altogether a Bad Egg.’
The little bronze mannikins all nodded knowingly. ‘We knew it, we knew it! uNyathi is a Terrorist! uNdlovu for Champ!’
They flitted away, one by one, to their nests. The Weaverbird and uGcawu smiled knowingly at each other in the gathering gloom.
‘Well done, Gcawu. Shall we report back to the Great Elephant, the Rightful Champ?
