Chapter 743 Uniting the Tribes Part lll
Bakari sat within the center of a village further north than the Lwazi tribe. Today was a gathering of tribal chieftains from a variety of different villages across southern Africa. These were the major tribal leaders that existed south of the Orange River. These men had grown increasingly concerned about the presence of the Germans and the threat they posed to the continued existence of tribal sovereignty.
Since Berengar was attacked in his tent by the local goddess, and her familiar, he had been securing his forward operating base and expanding it to a full-scale military colony. Equipment was being imported from the Fatherland, and actual stone structures had begun to take place. The vast star fort that was undergoing construction appeared to the African Scouts to be something grander than they had ever witnessed.
As more ships came from the fatherland, to this burgeoning South African colony, the African people began to become filled with fear. So much so that now, even the most bitter of tribal rivalries were put aside to deal with these white devils. Currently, Ukuza, leader of the Lwazi tribe, was speaking his piece about what information he had gained regarding the sea peoples.
“These white devils, though few, have strange weapons that are capable of conjuring thunder and fire. What magic was used in their creation we do not know, however, they appear to be capable of great devastation. They send out their scouts, who are mounted on stripeless zebras, to terrorize the southernmost tribes. They leave no survivors in the wake of their destruction.
There have been attempts to attack their encampment by small war bands, but they have only met in disaster. It is becoming increasingly clear that if we do not unite together, we will be driven from these lands that our ancestors have inhabited for many moons!”
Though Ukuza spoke of unity and nativity, the reality was that his people were not native to these lands. The original inhabitants, the Khoisan, were driven nearly to extinction by the Bantus, who now inhabited Southern Africa in greater numbers.
It was only natural for more powerful peoples to conquer and displace the natives when first contact was made. It was the way that humanity solved such disputes throughout their entire history. With the German settlement of the region, the Germans had brought the Bantus the same fate they had previously forced upon the Khoisan.
Naturally, the Bantus were resistant to this new order, and because of that, there were many who sided with Ukuza as he called for unification and war against the newcomers. Tribal chieftains nodded their heads and pounded their chests as they hollered in support of Ukuza.
“Death to the white devil!”
“This land is ours! These invaders must die!”
Bakari listened to the clamoring chieftains as they unanimously agreed upon war as being the most viable option to settle their dispute with the German settlers. Bakari spoke up on behalf of his tribe that was already annihilated.
“The white devils have wiped out my village. As far as I am aware, I am the only survivor. If we do not work together, you will all suffer the same fate. We need a leader, a great warrior who can lead this coalition of tribes against these white devils.”
The moment Bakari said these words, the tribal chieftains immediately began to fight among themselves for who should lead this proposed coalition. A particularly large man who wore the skin of a leopard rose from his feet and volunteered himself for the position.
“I Ndonsa recommend myself for the position of war chief!”
Ndonsa had a fearsome reputation among the tribes south of the Orange River, but he was not the only one. Suddenly, a much smaller man rose from his seat and began to argue that he should lead the coalition.
“Bah, Ndonsa, your greatest claim to fame is killing a leopard with a bow and arrow. I should be the leader. You all know how many men I have killed with my spear! There is no more obvious man fit for the position than I, the great Siyabonga!”
Ndonsa immediately got up in Siyabonga’s face, towering over the man with his stature as he stared at his rival with a face filled with disdain. Before they could fight, Ukuza came up with an idea of who should be named war chief of this coalition, as a means of settling the dispute.
“I say we hold a contest. All who wish to show their might, and claim the position of a war chief for themselves, must fight in a tournament to see who is the most worthy. The last man standing gains the position!”
Ndonsa and Siyabonga glared at each other before each agreeing to the terms.
“Fine by me!”
“Sounds good to me!”
With this, a tournament was about to take place to determine the man most worthy of being the leader of the coalition. Bakari saw this as an opportunity to claim power for himself and bring glory to his fallen tribe. After all, he had been trained in the arts of war since a young age, and though he had yet to prove himself like many of the contenders, he was sure that he had a chance of winning.
Thus, the young man tossed his name into the tournament, and soon found himself fighting against his first opponent. It was none other than Ndonsa. The rules of this tournament were simple: no weapons were allowed, no killing was permitted. However, everything else was fair game, and whoever was still standing at the end of the fight was the winner.
The hulking figure stood before Bakari with a smug smirk on his face as the other chieftains gathered around to watch the violence occur. Ndonsa rushed at Bakari and attempted to grab ahold of him, but the boy was too swift, moving aside, and grabbing hold of Ndonsa’s back from behind where he lift the man in the air just enough to break his posture, so that he could drag him to the floor.
The two men scrambled for a dominant position as Ndonsa got on top of Bakari and began to punch his face with his massive fists. Bakari could feel his face being pummeled as he struggled to reverse the position. He had no experience on the ground, not that the African tribes had any refined sense of martial arts to begin with, but he somehow managed to shrimp his way out of the mounted position by accident before getting back to his feet.
Ndonsa was not pleased with this, but before he could launch an attack, Bakari kneed him in the head with a jumping knee. Knocking the man unconscious upon impact. Despite having a bloodied face, Bakari miraculously turned the tables around and won the fight. Everyone stared at the boy in shock as he claimed victory over one of Southern Africa’s most renowned warriors. Especially Siyabonga, who was previously dreading the idea of fighting unarmed against the giant.
After beating Ndonsa, Bakari silently sat down, waiting for his next opponent. Before long, the other contenders fought their matches, but there were only a few men who would dare oppose Ndonsa and Siyabonga. In the end, Siyabonga and Bakari met in the finals, where the short, but nimble man cracked a joke at Ndonsa’s expense, who had since awoken from his nap.
“I must admit, I did not expect you to knock the lumbering fool out. I underestimated you, kid, but your agility is no match against mine. Don’t expect to pull of the same trick against me!”
Bakari said nothing. Instead he cracked his knuckles before charging at Siyabonga. He wildly threw his punches without any skill whatsoever. Wide haymakers were the best he could come up with. If pitted against the professional fighters of Germany, the boy would be not be able to land a hit, but he did not know that.
Siyabonga jumped around these attacks, swiftly evading them as if he were a spider monkey. He threw a kick to Bakari’s gut, which caused him to fall backwards, just when Siyabonga was about to go in for the kill, Bakari jumped up from his position and threw his fist forward with all his might, crashing against the smaller man’s jaw, and knocking him down.
Bakari quickly climbed on top of the man and began landing punches to the downed opponent until he was no longer conscious. With this, he had beaten the two most able fighters among the African tribes and proven himself to be the best fit for the position. Tactics? Strategy? Logistics? The African tribes knew nothing of these things. To them, the greatest warrior in single combat was the most adept leader when it came to war, and surprisingly, Bakari had proven himself to be this man.
The crowd of tribal chieftains erupted in cheers as Ukuza named the boy from the butchered village to be their new war chief. With this Bakari had united the tribes south of the Orange River into a large force, with a single purpose. To drive the Germans from the continent. Of course, fighting a duel against an untrained foe, and fighting a war against the single greatest army the world had ever seen, were two completely different beasts.