Sprit walk that made me a man My heart is pounding, my knees are weak.

Sweat pouring from my body, enough to drown a man, whilst every muscle in my body, every fibre of my being is telling to turn, to run, to run and never come back. Im must be crazy, why would I knowingly put myself through this, my mind is telling to leave, my body is telling me to leave. But my heart is telling me to stay. Who do I listen to, they all have served me well in 34 years of existence, and how can I turn my back on my oldest friends? There are very few defining moments in ones life; birth, adolescents, marriage and death. I have been through the first two, and certainly a long way away from the third, so naturally the only one left is marriage. I love her, and would literally do anything for; I would die and then come back to life, just to see her smile just one last time. Shes my entire word, my inspiration to live, the centre of my universe, a true work of perfection. I should feel like the luckiest man alive, it should be an honour for me to walk down that isle, and spend the rest of my life with her. But am I worthy? Am I man enough to be all she needs not in a man, in but with a soul mate, someone to hold her hand and walk into the afterlife with? They continue to pound at my door telling me that Im late and need to make a move on, but all I can do is look in the mirror, looking at this shell of man, a ghost of my former self, despite this being best best I have looked in a while, hair cut short, my clean shave give way to smooth round chin and a my three inch scar, which no longer stands out to me, now just another facial fixture, as are m eyes, my nose and my mouth. Despite my age I still look young. I look down at my cuff links. That were a gift from my mother to celebrate the completion of my spirit walk, representing the Antelope that guided me on a five day journey that helped me realize my place in this world and my true self. I look back now with found nostalgia, was that the day I really became a man, or is it today, the first day of the rest of my life, with her. It was 20 year ago, but it still feels like yesterday. That I was back home, my real home, isolated from the hustle and bustle of west world, caught up in this perpetual cycle of the race of the rats. The buying of such expensive of pieces of metal and plastic t that never seems to work, the incessant talk over the weather, and how the British complain when its hot, wanting it to rain, but when it does rain they whine, saying they want the summer. But in my real home, Im comfortable, Im familiar and Im free. One day that sticks out in my mind, one memory that plays constantly in my mind like a Friends episode on repeat, that I can read it from my subconscious so clearly as if it was happening now. I was 14, and having feeling the intense lashes of heat striking against my small, shirtless and slight frame. Heat only matched by the molten lava of sand I was standing on, constantly moving, never in one spot for too long, in fear that sultriness of intense infernal I was subjecting my feet to, would shamelessly bare a whole in my feet. I could hear the laughter and commotion of the entire village people gathering by my side, there sound of their voice resonating around me so vigorously, that it will shake the very foundation of our clay huts already cracking in the intense angry glare of the sun, and crumbling due to the years of constant fighting against neighbouring villagers. But it was just your average day, it was the day my brother was coming back from his sprit walk. Everyone in the village loved my brother, the girls swooned at his every word, and every boy clambered on top of each other, just to have the right to walk by his side. So upon his arrival they were expecting the

most wondrous and magnificent of gods creatures, some said he will bring a lion, others said a buffalo, even the older village drunk proclaimed that he will bring an elephant, but his speculation was quickly waved of as murmuring of a drunken fool. But to me his words where soothing, they provided me with a escape from the harsh catastrophes that plagued my village few months ago, when men wearing the hides of lions, with painted war faces that still seems to penetrate my every dream, no matter how deep I hide under the covers. And the only thing stopping me from screaming and crying, was having my brother there, he didnt say much, but just by saying it will be okay in his reassuring deep tone of a voice, it made me feel safe, and instilled in me a small seed of hope that grew every day, I work up to see my family by my side. But thats why I was never envious of how everyone treated my brother, and how they looked down on me, as just Anus little brother, because it was a pleasure to walk by his side. So waiting for his homecoming was ever more enjoyable and exciting. But just then my, little stem of hope was served from which the foundation it sprouted from, for in the distant a small figure slowly staggered out of the woods, appearing only as a small dot along the horizon, in between the ripples of heat emulating from the ground. The village people began to walk closer, feeling that the figure will never reach, due to its snail like faltering steps, unable to keep itself upright, then suddenly my worst nightmares where conformed, when from the front some said its Anu, his hurt. Without thinking punched and fought my way to the front, now in plain site I need he was hurt badly, I broke out in a mad, frantic charge just about catching him before his head and body hit the ground. As I held his slowly disappearing being, I could now see clearly the extent of his injuries, his once dark complexion now stained with the dried up dark red dye of blood, and on his skin as on the barks of tree, curved in deep letter the words heed this as a warning of what is to come, burn with the demons if shall lay with devils. As the crowd advance closer and closer, seeing the message brutally sketched into my brother flesh, panic soon spread across the village people, like a plague. As essence began to fade and the realisation that our humble way of life was now compromised, we could no long ignore the ominous lurking presence of war. Everyone knew what war would bring pain, misery, the death, and this dawning realization was like a slow methodical vice like grip, slowly constricting their organs like a Boa Constrictor, and shaking them at the very foundations of their beings. The following morning after the burial of my brother, I remember holding my mother as she wept in my arms, but the elders seemed not to care about a grieving mother who yesterday saw her son die before her, and she could nothing about it, then to die go through the soul destroying pain all over again, as she watch his lifeless limp body, lowered to the ground. If yesterday was a harrowing nightmare, today dreams where now a horrifying reality, her 17 year old son was truly dead and no amount of cursing the gods will bring him. but they didnt care, how my mother felt, and it sickened me, they were too preoccupied, satisfying their thirst for blood and hunger for vengeance, I looked in their eye, the men I admired and looked up to as they began, hate consumed them, feeding an insatiable beast that lurks in the very deep necessities of there the bodies. The town elder stepped forward, chief Kenyatta, a man with wafer fine snow white hair, whose back is hunched with age, now requiring a stick to aid his limited mobility. our soldiers or just men who will stand and fight, and when the time comes - take the fight to them, and take their sons as they did ours, the spirit animals have spoken, and it is up to us, strong fathers, strong sons to hear their call, if we fail... we see what they have done to our men, imagine what they will do to our wives, to our daughters?

The men began to talk amongst themselves, at the share horror of the vulnerable women in the possession of such monster, but hate continue to eat away at them, they were not blinded by it, driven by it, feed of it. No longer could they reason, show compassion of their fellow man, they ignored the fact that meeting violence with more violence, leaves us no victor standing. But I was young then, so I could not heed this warning, that would have saved countless lives, instead my young self was swept up by this promise of revenge. I stepped forward, expecting a round of applause an acknowledgement of my bravery, maybe they would see me as they did my brother. But as I stepped forward none of this came to fruition. Instead I was met with their humiliating laughter. Chief Kenyatta crushing my spirit, only man can kill another man, you are but a child. I was outraged, Im 14, the same age as Mutwii (all be the fact that he was the biggest and strongest 14 year old I have ever seen) but yet you would let him fight?, chief Kenyatta replied, we dont measure a man by his age like the west dictate, a man is a man when he takes his spirit walk, and until then you are not in a man. So my destiny was set, I proclaimed with confidence I never thought I possessed, that I will take my spirit walk, so I was worthy to be a man, and fight in the name of my brother and in the name of the village. But deep down I expected my mother to talk me out of it, but seeing the burning desire in my eyes, and the unquestionable need for a man to prove himself, that she decided to save her breath, because there were no way of persuading me out of it, my mind was made up. I will take my spirit walk, and not return until I became a man. Encarta tribe where a proud people, laying claims to be the very few remaining hunter gatherers in our modern world, surrounded by planes and small computer chips, that have left us lacking a deep connection with mother earth we once had. We have become arrogant and lazy, no longer feeling that we need to rely on her abundant nourishment, a foolish mistake, when she provides so much. But the Encarta where not ignorant to this blessing, we understand all her sacrifices, and leave of her land, not by force but by choice. We take care of her, and take of her only what we require and no more, and in exchange she feeds us and keeps us alive. From very young age we learned of her beauty, and kept our traditions alive with every passing generation, and with all that I learned from my village, it was easy to track the antelope, a solitary creature on its hunt for a mate. To your average western man, a very difficult task, but to an Encarta it was something that came naturally to me, almost second nature, I could hunt as I could speak. I did it without having to think. Two days in, and the trail of his foot prints in the hard soil, were faint but still visible, thus allowing me to effectively follow. Despite the fiery, vehement demon in the sky, glaring down on me, trying its hardest to persuade me to turn and give up. But I was on a mission to prove my worth, and no force on this earth is stronger than a man with nothing to lose, but with something to prove, so I persevered, but even my rumbling tummy tried to fault my drive to find this creature and bring its head back to the village, as it quickly devoured the meagre portions of fruit, nuts and the occasional small rodent that I tried to satisfy its hunger with. But I just didnt have the time to stop and pander to its vanities; the trail of droppings seemed to get fresher as the weaker and hungrier I grew, but it was evident now I was closing in on it. I cant stop now. I heard a snap of a twig a head, so quickly dropped to my belly, and like serpent slowly manoeuvred my way thought the undergrowth - now I was truly one with nature. I stopped just shy of the break of the tall grass, giving way to the open, as I slowly pushed one strand of grass to one side, my eyes

lit up; I used all my strengths of character to prevent me from jumping up and down, as I succumb to my excitement. For in the distant stood tall and majestic against the back drop of the wide open planes of savannah, was the antelope, see beautiful its seemed as a distant mirage, but I knew it was true, because it knew it was there, not quite the pin point location, but it knew I was close. I gripped my spear tight in my hand, but it wasnt time yet, patients was required, as I could tell from its deep shallow pants, it was feeling the heat, and now abundant its pursuit of a fertile mate, replacing it now with the need of refreshment. But I knew the area well, and in the not too far distant there was a watering pool, but I couldnt wait for the creature to drink and regain strength, I had to pursue, not to catch it, which would have been impossible in my current state of being, but to wear it out, a battle of wills to see who could last longer. So I leapt out of my temporary dwelling, and almost simultaneously it to launch it to motion. The battle was on! It seemed we had been running for hours, I could feel it in my whole body, my feet hurt, and every muscle was screaming in agony, and my eyes lost focus due to heat extortion, but as much as my body complained, it was a foreign language to me. This was my destiny and I couldnt turn my back on it. But if I was in such pain, this creature must be feeling it twice as bad, as everyone knowns, a four legged beast, can out sprint a two legged beast, but only the two legged best was king when it came to the long distance, and plus the antelope didnt have a small cow hide pouch with water in it as I did, so it now dawned on me, it wasnt a question of if I was going to catch it, but now more of a question now, with every leaping pound the animal took, it became less sure, slightly more weaker and miss guided, but still it kept its will alive, as it turned and weaved through the long grass. But suddenly as it took one stride to far, it seemed to trip over its hide leg, and came hurtling to the ground with a big thump, but as I approached my eyes completely lost focus, and my body seemed to completely shut down. As I staggered closer to the beast, I feel to my knees and my head landed on its side, my eyes went blank and I lost consciousness, which was a very dangerous thing in the middle of the savannah especially next to such a mouth watering banquette that is an antelope. But I was too exhausted to move. I was suddenly a woken by the tipper-tapper of droplets on my head, at first they were painful, but as they continued to bombarded me, and roll down my chest, it soon became tranquil, and I felt revitalised like a new lease of life, but my moment of clarity was cut short, when in the distant I could hear the faint chuckle of hyena, I knew I had to move quick, because such creatures are merciless, and went faced with a easy lunch, quickly become blood thirsty and yield to know reason, so quickly jumped to my feet, and withdraw my knife from my side, as I began to saw of its head, suddenly became a rush against time, as I could know see them in the distance, and I was sure they could see me, and as everyone knows, where there is group of hyena, there is always one lion that is close. As they came closer, they could smell me and the antelope and broke out in a sprint, I didnt have enough time to continue to saw, and as I grabbed it with both hands and pulled and pulled with every muscle the lord gave to me. And with a spine turning crack, the head came dislodged in my hands. But I had no time to dwell in the vile actions, I had to move, and move quick. Without a second though I disappeared it the bushes, it time to hear the sound of flesh being ripped apart from its caucus, and relief spread around my body, which soon gave way to satisfaction and pride, contemplating the type of reception I would receive upon my arrival. As I came closer to dusty road that lead straight to the mouth of my village, from the distance I could see a long black and grey serpent weave its way into the sky, and the closer I came, the more I

sweated as intense heat consumed me. My village was on fire, I ran faster than even when I was running from the hyena, panic consumed me. I reached my village, and I felt like someone had ripped my heart out of my chest, as I turned around all I could see was the paradise I wants called home, was now a charred, decaying mess, uninhabitable by any living thing. My eyes suddenly snap back into focus as I look back at myself in the mirror, tear running down my face. I never found out what happened to my family or to my village, and as I stumbled dazed and confused into the city, and was found by a British couple who felt sorry for me and brought me to England, and showed me a life I wouldnt have believed in my wildest fantasies, my yarning for answers still blazed deep inside me, leaving a large hole in my heart. Which I thought would never be filled until I found out what happened, but I didnt realize until now that it was healing, not because of the passing tick of the clock, but the love of a good women, and if I am going to find the truth, I would need her next to me for every step of the journey. I emerged from my room, to the angered yet relieved faces of my closest friends, Im ready. As I walked down the aisle, I knew that this women was the one I was meant to spend the rest of my life with, and as I saw turn around in flowing white dress, I feel in love with her all over again. A month later she held my hand tighter than anyone ever held it before, as she sat by my side in the jeep that bring me back to my village. Know my real story can begin, with her by my side I will find out the truth of what happened to my village.