The Next 100
It began with a grey line on the horizon that started to grow increasingly large and increasingly dark. Wadili hoped in his heart that the Great Spirit would still protect the people. They were far away from the sacred lands of their ancestors. He began wonder if he should have stayed on the mainland like the shaman had suggested. His intuition might not have been the best but Hiyaro was seldom wrong and her dream of a red land surrounded by teeth hinted of a place where the Jaguar might be afraid to venture. He had to protect his people. It was his duty as chief.
The height of the sea swell grew. The wind grew increasingly brisk, then increasingly loud and with a flash of lightning and the loud crack of thunder, the deluge of rain began. The women secured the children and supplies. The men tightly gripped their oars, part in fear, part in determination.
They paddled. Over mountains of water they paddled. In stinging rain, they paddled. In howling wind they paddled. The lightning flashed, the thunder rolled as the storm increased in intensity. Wadili prayed to the Great Spirit. He asked the ancestors for courage. Their canoes were beginning to become filled with water.
Hiyaro starting her song:
" O Wadili, you are strong as stone,
What of the water?
What of the waves?
You will overcome Afefe.
You are not afraid of her wind,
You voice is stronger than her voice.
You skin is like tapir,
Her arrows cannot pierce you.
The Great Spirit is with us,
The ancestors are with us,
Our people are with us.
We go forward to …
The wind howled, the lightning flashed and in the distance the growl of a contented jaguar rumbled like the thunder.
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