MIKE (English Version)
My name does not have importance. All one each one, at one time or with another, ends up losing to it his. At least once or for always. Recluse at the bottom of the village in my used hut, I prepared for the mystical ritual of this evening. Seven days of fast to sleep in dust to have the favours of the hearts of the relics had made to me lighter. "It is because the days are lying that the night frightens, murmured me in my open head all the voice of my water-bottle". It was rare that I hear it. It was even rarer than I feel it to stir up and sigh. I belonged myself to the dusty ground on which I softened myself, draped simply in an old mauve loincloth. In my tiny clean room and without superfluity, I left the water-bottle the top of the bed and deposited it on my small table after having blown inside. My eyes of another world transfer to rise a creature, small with the potelé body of baby. The very black face and exaggeratedly bouffis were marked by old eyes and very white eyebrows. A detail without which one would have taken the resident of my water-bottle for an extremely jovial new-born baby. The creature was agitated and the water-bottle pitched highly while remaining perfectly in balance. "the light is only illusion, murmured such while making jump its cheeks. It is one night very obscure this evening. Bring much perfumes to persuade "the others". I had sat down on a small stool, the bed being prohibited to me. The crossed arms, I looked at this other almost similar with meditation. The latter smiles of all the long and very square tooth which it had. "It is because the Men disavowed their combat which the truth disavows them in its turn, such ensured. Purify your c?ur well and is detached obscure choices from the ordinary hearts ". It leaned the head towards the left while looking towards the sky with surprisingly black eyes. Then gradually, as usual, I have opposite me only one quite ordinary water-bottle. The hour approached and I felt my spiritual partners to be agitated in my nape of the neck. I remade my bag then prosternais me above open cranium of my father. When greenish breeze of left I known that my prayer had been heard. One of my partners almost invisible took it and hid it in a place which was to me you. A stronger breeze was engulfed in the part. I was ready. My bag and my cane against me, I dropped myself on the ground.
The breeze pushed me out of the house. Unimportant nut of palm drained in mud, a horrible fly was posed on me. And we tore the sky and we freed from spaces along a corridor kept by bees with the giant and red darts. * ? * Against any waiting, the night was clear profiting from the effects of the dry season in Woleu-Ntem. The nervous noise of a swarm of bees taught me that Okome, my friend, the large priestess of the evening arrived. Of a quivering of the eyelids I made be closed again the opening in the trunk of banana tree which enabled me to project my sight towards the sky. The underground habitat of this tree-fruit was surprisingly roomy but announced the execution of ritual difficult. Just opposite me, Okome crossed the wall of the banana tree as if it did not exist. Voluptuous woman with the almost reddish skin, it illuminated in her immaculate dress of ceremony white. She smiles me and of deep small cavities its cheeks dug délicieusement. My c?ur fills of happiness because this so tempting face had saved me the most unnamable sufferings that nothing wanted to come to end. She opened large the arms to me and we étreignîmes one the other while saying in a sigh: "Samba! ". "is health with you my s?ur? Asked me such while tightening itself the two hands ". I made head yes. Health, the alley necessary of interior peace, with invaluable happiness. Many years before I had lived without benefitting from my youth, of my life of woman. My existence escaped to me and I sauntered in the village like dangerous illuminated. Okome took some steps until the bottom of our occult hiding-place. "Agathe still has problems, sighed such. It y' has a great work for her this evening ". I mouse in my c?ur. Agathe was very beautiful a 30 year old woman, with the full body, African buttocks the very round ones, a presence which could disturb more than one man. I was always astonished that it is so fragile. Two suicide attempts to have missed by the examinations at lysed and the university. Series of depression for conflicts which seemed unimportant with a damnée ex- as me which had had to live a time in tortuous labyrinths of certain hells. The chance was nevertheless with Agathe. It was called Mike. Same age, they had been promised in marriage for three Mike years had a maroon dye and hair which seemed russet-red comma had some of the person having a heritage of albinism. I had had the occasion to consult it at the time of a care. Noble soul, a destiny of most brilliant, spirits of deer surrounded of a beautiful rainbow of which it was unaware of the presence and the actions. Me also young person I was unaware of who I was and who were my companions. It is Okome, drawing me with dead half of the street, which opened to the known eyes and I to me my heart. The man is a creature with multiple spirits and a heart with the often indefinite depth. Mine, like a bird, was in a prison with the bars perpetually on fire. My wings, of very large detachable sabres with leisure, were not to me of any help. It was necessary to fight, to reconquer my life, that which was designated some as the Master. Contrary to me it was a man but well my similar. A prehistoric body of deer equipped members with bird. Made wings of blades and immense greenhouses. It needed me because it was old, my energy becoming its energy, and because I came from him. I was to release me from my father. Okome had prevented me: death was my only exit. It helped me, formed me, initiated me and developed my ignored gifts. One day, between the night and the paddle, with the foot of the prison of flames, in a vaporous form, I fought that which had generated me and confined me according to the old one laughed malefic African in the worst sufferings and of abominable humiliations. My wings new were compared with his tried, used, bent by place. I live his gasolines to quiver when it prosterna in front of me and tightened me the neck, which added more power to my present relic. To save me, I sliced the head of my father become since my ritual and beneficial cranium. Okome sneezed: "the small one was made the enemy of the woman of Ndong, declared such. Her husband would have looked at the small one in a certain way and then the things were envenimées ". Indeed Agathe was a beautiful woman. But this Ndong had a physique really too ungrateful, to see horrible. But it was immensely rich and said one, sexually demanding. And so inaccessible... It was told that in its youth it had wiped rebuffs of the women so much that only the money which it had gained thanks to a very great intelligence it had left loneliness and the celibacy. "It is necessary to go there, declared Okome. It is the hour ". In the greatest secrecy we gained the large room of ceremony of Okome. One heard a crowd in the other part. Agathe had the priority. She entered with Mike, her beautiful been engaged obviously always also in love with beautiful young woman. With my surprise it left its large bag of wicker a black water-bottle. Okome took it to him hands and deposited it in the center of the part on an artisanal wood stove without fire. Various barks were deposited in the large container while the girl recited her v?ux then, symbolically, water glass without water was to pour. Agathe, even more fragile, took refuge in the arms of Mike her support of always. Okome further sat down close to me a few meters from young people. She fled my glance.
"Why the name of Ndong was quoted? I asked him. - So that he does not become also his enemy, it, the eyes lowered on its ten fingers answered ". The black water-bottle was reserved for laughed at love and power. Both were indissociable. Did Agathe fear the advances of this horrible man? There were simpler means to move away this type of contrariety. Corner of the?il, I noted that no quivering came from the water-bottle. An ingredient missed. Okome threw me a blow of?il, it had read in my thoughts. It rose and went once more towards young people. It made claquer three times its fingers in front of their faces plunging them in unconsciousness. It turned to me and known as: "I need you. Come with us ". As a vague giantess the part changed. We were in a very dense forest. An immense tree was held in front of us. A tree of which the medium of the trunk showed us the dumb black water-bottle in the room of ceremony. I noted that Agathe and Okome were all beside me Mike, further, was upright at the edge of a small brook. I guessed, by experiment, that invisible forces held it dependent. Its eyes were closed, its ears had disappeared, its open large mouth let escape from the choked rails. Its language had been torn off. This?uvre required one to two years complete of keen occult work. Deaf person, dumb man and blind man, Mike had thus become the offering of Agathe. The latter, in this forest of truth, had a quite unspecified aspect. No spark or distinguishing mark in a heart specific to the being which are always to satisfy to exist. On the other hand, the fragile character of its carnal aspect was replaced by a given and very arrogant glance. "It is the girl of my sister, began Okome. But despite everything they paid me million franks CFA. This marriage is something of very important. The chance it is this evening. The chance it is you. The star of Mike is gigantic and invaluable. All my sorceries carried out only to that. Impossible to destroy it, to monopolize it. Your spirit is rare, my friend, your wings are magic sabres grace to which you only could overcome a being like your father. The geniuses indicated them with much respect like the only weapon so that the heart of Mike nourishes the water-bottle and that my family left poverty ".
Okome had pronounced this last sentence the lowered head, the trembling voice. It knew what it asked me. On his councils I had had to kill to save my life. At present, I was going to have to eliminate beautiful star from Mike, his beautiful future actions, to nourish the vanity of his s?ur and the ambitions of his niece. Okome did not have a family. Initially originating in a nearby country, it had been found only while coming to settle in Bitam. She had had a single child, a boy. Patient every two days. Poor like ten devastated churches, it had nourishes me and neat during two years. Days lasting it was deprived so that I am not hungry, so that I would be strong when I should beat me for my life. It did not have anything, it did not even live its occult work which it did not make any more pay so much people who came to it were poor. Several long years had been passed. It had some to be poor enough as I had had of it to have enough badly, to live dead. His/her always sick son had grown. It was a man to be married, a dowry to be paid. Mike. In Africa, particular relations and long dates very quickly became bonds of family. Ndong had thus never looked at it. But his wife, with the aguets, had guessed the interest of Agathe for her husband. The beautiful Agathe wanted to thus awake each morning at Ndong, by the sublime energy of Mike. Mike which in ten years would have ensured the same coveted way of life to him, if not better. This blessed child already had been thus prepared and delivered. Its purity will give to this magic spell an extraordinary force. After a sign of head with Okome, I taken my shape of deer and deployed my ornament. Then, in a triumphing sigh approaching more a rail, Agathe taken one of my wings and, valiantly, divided the fluorescent heart of her friend into two, with the horizontal one. In the gigantic tree trunk, the black water-bottle fills illuminated as by thousand suns, then it started to quiver gently, so voluptueusement.
It was one night very obscure indeed.
Alle Rechte an diesem Beitrag liegen beim Autoren. Der Beitrag wurde auf e-Stories.org vom Autor eingeschickt Nadège Ango-Obiang.
Veröffentlicht auf e-Stories.org am 10.06.2008.