MALEBO LE MALIMO (Malebo and The Cannibals) JESUS CHRIST IN THE PICTURE By Leseko Kelly Tsehlana

I admit there is something shameful about eavesdropping, but looking back on the many months of Covid-19 I have devoted to this ignoble practice I must confess I am likely to remain an eavesdropping cad for ever: Malebo and Cannibals Jesus Christ in Picture. Not all conversations arrest my interest. No, it is only when I come within earshot of conversing, laughing and noisy group of people that this sneakish streak uncoils within me, and I listen breathlessly, relishing every word as a child relishes a bed-time story and of course, if the story has heavenly picture in it, trust me, I listen! I can think of several fascinating anecdotes gleaned from this shady side of my career. I have decided, however, a little reluctantly I must confess, to confine myself to one the less exciting conversations I have heard, if only because it concerns you and me. I was relaxing in my house one Saturday evening some months ago,minding Covid-19 challenges when suddenly my ears reached out to the nearby farm where they found two shepards enjoying a few moments of gossip. Imagine two sherpards named Malebo (young but strong warrior) and Tornato (young and funny looking sherpard) enjoying a chat in the shadow of Malebo`s grandfather`s kraal in Malimong, Berea. And from my judgement they were sharing a zol, which is a ciggarette home-made with tobacco and rolled in wrapping paper, newspaper. Now I pad a step or two closer by my window, and with ears cupped, eavesdrop on their conversation. There is chance that you may find the story interesting, especially if you are 'covid locked' and you don`t know what to read and if you are in a situation that you think you cannot be out of it this story will kind of like reminding you that there is nothing to difficult for God to rescue you, no matter the situation. Tornato: “Ee Malebo, o na le fikara ea malimo ane a khale!” (hey Malebo! You have a body figure that resembles that of an old cannibals) Malebo: hahahaha...laughed Malebo sitting cross-legged on a stone like bench leaning against a kraal`s wall. There is nothing more pleasing than a good cannibal story well told, and should the narrator be one of those gifted kraal like Malebo, then all the better. Among the scores of stories to scramble to engage Malebo`s thoughts that night was an incident when he woke up to find that his wife (a young hopeful woman) was taken by cannibals while on the way from fetching the water from a well. Let us imagine a cluster of huts clinging to the side of a hill. The owner, Malebo, is a respected young strong man, famous for fighting in wars at young age. One evening at sunset Malebo, a little befuddled after a beer drenched and wheezy sleep that had claimed him body and soul for the most of the afternoon emerge from his hut, yawned, stretched luxuriously and wandered where could his wife be? his house was pitched on a rocky ledge lipping a gorge, a mammoth earth-mouthed which smiles unceasingly on cannibals territory north of cannibal hunting spot. “Malebo...Malebo! Malimo a nkile mosali!” (cannibals have ambushed your wife) shouted the villagers. He ran so far on the way. Returned in the house, zoomed out confused, he ran again for peharps hundred metres, holding his spear and shield between booth of his hands in front of him. You could be surprised, as he went on his way again, by what appeared to be rain-drops falling on his hand, and more than once looked up in wonder at the clear night sky. But it was only sweat which came dropping from his brow. He headed straight to where the cannibals have taken the wife. Hill and valley followed valley and hill; the little green and stony old cattle tracks wandered in and out of one another, split into two, four or five, died away in marshy hollows, and began again sporadically on hillsides over the Malimong mountain, there was no marked road-only upright old stones posted to mark the boundries. Breath of cool air began to cool him from the direction of the summit. The road to the land of cannibals followed a small plain land, and wild flowered swamp and bush-clad hollow, old horse path and sled track-which the cannibals used for tracking the foot steps of the prey and ambush, and everywhere stains of old blood, bones remains and old clothes seemly straped off the preys. He gaze languidly into mists breathed upwards from out of the depths of the river below: Phuthiatsana. He saw a huge rock up on a hillside covered with loose stones tufts of heather. Almost from the fisrt moment on the summit, a faint large voice, like an amplified noise, filled the area where cannibals were staying. After Malebo wandered upon the hills he got a birds eye view of the camp of the cannibals. He saw a huge rock that he could use to kill those mosters. He saw them [cannibals] circling in volley in the big fire, and buzy, from time to time, a huge stick stirring would shake to turn meat on the right direction of the fire. “These beast ate about a hundred children and their parents of his village” thought Malebo. He went down the hill to where tribe of cannibals camp adjucent to the cavern, then strode forward up hill in the dusk, after a sharp ascent of five minutes, reached the edge of a cave. Hard by, in cavern of the mountain, were man-made stick hangers; where they housed Malebo`s wife alive and two others, kept for next morning meal and ritual. He follow a short bald turf ascent a row of huge stone, then saw a good large rock and pushed the stone to where cannibals were circling around a huge fire, suddenly, in the midst of the roll, the stone bit the dust and cannibals were trooping out to their labors of the cooking by twos and threes, all turned round to stare upon the stranger, and as if planned, all the cannibals ran hapazardly and scattered when the huge stone rolled toward them and cut feet of some of the old cannibals. The supper was disturbed by mighty Malebo. Within a short period of time cannibal run, Malebo had a convinient time to pounce on his wife and shouldered her and set out homeward: he quicken his pace towards exit godge until he reached a plain path that took a short cut to the village, though it was already dark you could tell that he knew the road very well. Much to his suprise there were still many people waiting for his return because they saw him and heard of the ambush of his wife and there were singing and dancing at home and along the dark street. However, back at the cannibal territory were mutual confusion and they were all confounded because it seems that Malebo`s wife was a main prey since she was only a woman prey to perform the cannibal ritual. THE MORAL OF STORY: 1. No matter what a captivity, the Saviour (Jesus Christ) will come if you have hope. 2. No matter how bad situation is, you will come out alive if you believe in Jesus Christ. 3. God will put the watchers on the wall and they will not be silent. 4. God will scatter your enemies. 5. In general there is no situation to big for God trust Him.