Chapter 298 - Chapter 32, Episode 15: Ombuti Flies

Chapter 298: Chapter 32, Episode 15: Ombuti Flies

In the central region of Samaria farm, 600 meters away from the farm’s main mansion by Pendé River’s triangular edge, there was a worker’s residence. 1,100 families and 700 single people occupied the large village, made up of 15 hectares of land. There were warehouses, dryers, blacksmiths, mills, shops, and a church in the center of the village, while the residential areas surrounded the village’s outskirts like a circle.

Plantation farming by itself formed an independent economic sector. There was not a single day of peace in an isolated plantation filled with 100s and 1,000s of households. Samaria farm was no different.

Various side effects like faction fights, sexual assault, religious conflicts, and violence occurred one after another. Baron Colten had built a house for those who married outside of the farm. Nick had constructed a collective settlement for workers outside of the farm. Sun WooHyun, who was inexperienced, had accepted Barongo and the 100-member council’s appeal to live in family units on the farm. That was his first mistake.

As twilight turned to dawn, the village square’s firelight burned brightly. A dried cotton branch was, in and of itself, the best feed for fire. Countless natural paintings hung on the walls around them, and 100s of black workers rolled their feet to the sound of drums. There was a man holding onto a box of spirits made out of wood, another man with a jembe[1] and machete[2], and a man holding onto a rifle.

“Kiyoho, Legba Legba!”

Women holding onto a wooden rectangular statue the size of their arms shouted distinctly. It was the statue of Bakara, a spirit of protection. Without a single thing on their bodies, the women danced around the fire. They shook their butts side-to-side, rolled their hips, and hugged other people while dancing to receive a Vodou God.

Papai Legba udri paepo umo pauen papa letonuen ma salai lewa nyo

The women began to sing.

The men wearing pwens[3] drummed and supported the women’s songs with strong grunts.

Uh-huk, uh-huk

The mood grew intense. The men standing outside the circle turned in the opposite direction of the women and started singing the chorus. The song and shouts grew louder and louder. Their strange ritual neared its end.

Legba was regarded as the protector of gates, a prophetic spirit among Vodou spirits. By calling the Legba, the wall between spirits and humans would be lifted. The Maroons[4] believed once the connection was established, they would become undefeatable against bullets or blades.

Two men appeared with a black male pig tied to a stick. After raising the pig onto their altar, the fire grew stronger on its own. The beatings of the drums and the song got quicker.

A man wearing an uneven tunic and a cow’s head costume appeared. The man lifted the scepter made of a long femur. A skull, which decorated the top of the scepter, emitted a blue glow.

“Oh, Mackandal[5]!”

“Oh, may a kind lwa be sent!”

Shouts, screams, and cries echoed. The beating of the drums got even quicker. The women who were crazily shaking their chests and twisting their legs suddenly dropped to the floor and frothed at their mouths. Silence ensued.

Oma aritugama sutai debila betti blang wanga

The man finished chanting and respectfully lifted a knife. The sharp knife sliced the pig’s neck. The pig struggled and squealed. The women collected the blood in a wooden box. The crowd gathered. They each took out a wooden cup from their pockets and drank the blood in the box. The man raised the skull scepter high in the air.

“God, who illuminates the sun, raises the wind, sends the storm, and creates the lightning, protects us all. Save us from the hands of the evil farm owner and the whites, hear the Maroons. When we ate the dirtied ugali soup, the white pigs tore the meat from the hinds of young lambs. When we drank the muddied water, the white pigs drank delicious wine. When we were forced to work with rags on our backs, the white pigs wore silk and massaged young women on their comfortable beds.”

The man continued, “Samaria farm is made from our bruised hands. Samaria farm is not the white pigs’ wealth, just as we aren’t the white pigs’ slaves. Nick Wayneright killed his brother and stole the farm. Namir shoved Nick in the cell and stole the farm. Using Miss Edel’s name, Namir is acting as her representative to take over the farm. Miss Edel didn’t appear in the past year. I heard the truth from the spirit of the wind. Miss Edel is dead. Samaria farm is now ours. If we take back the farm with our strength, the farm will become ours too. The Samaria farm that is raised with your sweat, tears, and blood will become yours.”

“Yeaaaah, lwa lwa!”

“Woo, Mackandal!”

“Ooh, I’m the farm owner!”

The crowd shouted. The mood grew intense. An extremely evil smile was seen on Barungo. He looked at the crowd arrogantly.

Hehe, these idiots!

There were 154 people wearing red armbands among the 10-member and 100-member councils, 40 guards holding onto guns, and 100 workers handling the jembe and axes. There were exactly 300 people, including the women who had helped him perform the ritual. 300 was an important number. There were exactly 300 lwa spirits that moved the world. He had laid the bridge between the lwa and humans by calling the Legba. They were currently possessed by the lwa, which delivered his orders as the head of rites as the orders of God.

It was easy to manipulate the representatives who were wearing the armbands. People who had lost themselves to greed after tasting power became denser than chickens. They were easily swayed by the news of Miss Edel’s death, resulting in the downfall of Namir’s power.

He raised their anger by spreading rumors that Namir would take back the armbands and punish the representatives who participated in bribery. He even added that the Maroons would be banished from the farm. Once he threw a spark toward the perturbed crowd, they burned up instantly. That was Barungo’s critical plan, which played around with humans’ greed and insecurity.

“Namir, your days are over. Kekeke!”

Barungo laughed in a sinister manner. Opportunities could only be seized by those who were prepared. He’d spent nine years serving someone for that opportunity to arrive.

The Vodou religion was spread by African slaves who had relocated from West Africa to the West Indies. While it was known that Haiti was the religion’s place of origin, that wasn’t the truth. Initially, the Vodou religion had spread widely among West African locals. It had simply influenced Haiti’s Saint Dominique’s slaves, who then spread it to Europe.

The bizarre Vodou ritual, which included evil spells that hurt others, calling spirits, controlling zombies, and worshipping sex organs, caused its suppression. Nick had utilized the guards and vigilantes to search for Vodou worshippers within the farm before sending them away.

Maroons hid their Vodou religion by disguising themselves as Catholics. Sun WooHyun had destroyed the guards and vigilantes and given them religious freedom. Sun WooHyun’s appearance was like rain during a drought. When family units were allowed to live on the farm, the Vodou religion spread rapidly.

Barungo, who saw the opportunity, immediately called himself the descendant of the legendary magician, Mackandal. He nurtured an unpredictable environment and promised sweet fruits, which drew in armbands and Maroons under his power. Now it was time for his years’ worth of effort to pay off. Barungo raised the skull scepter and shouted.

“Let’s go, let’s go find our farm. Once we suppress Namir, the farm will be ours. The kind lwa will protect you all. Let us get rid of Namir, who’s been eaten by the evil lwa!”

“Yeah, let’s go! It’s freedom.”

“The farm will be ours.”

300 people rushed toward the farm’s main mansion like a tide.

“What is this sound?”

Sun WooHyun rose from his sleep because of all the racket. The sky outside his window was red. He’d drunk himself to sleep, overwhelmed by the Scottish malt whiskey imported from England last night.

When he drew open the curtain and looked outside, Sun WooHyun’s mind snapped back to reality. 100s of people were crowding around the building. Half of them were wearing armbands.

“S***, those damn b*stards are rioting!”

The image of Ombuti, who had been nagging endlessly during his last visit, came to Sun WooHyun’s mind. Ombuti had told him to get rid of the armbands if he didn’t want to be scolded by wakil. He had been planning to get rid of those who were acting out anyway.

Sun WooHyun rushed to put on his clothes and pressed the interphone. The head overseer, Barungo, didn’t pick up the interphone. The interphone connected to the security wasn’t working either. It could only mean that the guards and Barungo were part of the rebellion too.

“Damn, I’m in trouble!”

He sobered up. The 10 employees who took care of the mansion and cooked were not fighters. Sun WooHyun loaded his magazine and raised the gun.

“Should I just make a run for it?”

Sun WooHyun considered escaping for a while before shaking his head. His drunk body wasn’t listening to him. 100s of people with guns and weapons were closing in around the building. It was difficult to escape in that situation even if he was in good condition. He could almost see Ombuti laughing in his face.

“Sorry, wakil. It seems like I’m fated to wave a gun here and there, following you around the battlefield.”

Sun WooHyun slung the rifle on his shoulder and casually walked down the stairs. He wanted to hold onto his pride as Namir even if he were to die. It had been a mistake for him to imitate capitalism when he was from a communist country.

Bang—

The door, which received a kick, flung open. Workers who were holding torches, guns, and weapons blocked the entrance. A man wearing an evil smile stood before him.

“Hm, it was you, Barungo?” Sun WooHyun growled through his teeth.

His suspicion had turned into reality.

Those fooled are the idiots.

Wakil’s words drummed painfully in his mind.

“I’m so sorry, Namir. I can’t bow down to someone else for the rest of my life, can I?” Barungo sneered as he raised the skull scepter.

Sun WooHyun nearly snorted. That b*stard was not the same person who acted as though he’d remove his liver when ordered. The saying that no one could guess what went on in one’s heart came to his mind. He ached to his bones.

Damn, I’m not wakil.

Regret washed over him like a wave. Sun WooHyun found himself foolish for wasting away time and not realizing the man’s evil intentions. Now that he thought about it, wakil was an astounding human who received absolute loyalty.

“I raised your wages by twofold and gave all of you plenty of food. I gave you incentives and even gave you free treatment when you’re sick. I even gave you religious freedom. Why are you rebelling?”

Sun WooHyun wanted to know. There was no better farm than Samaria farm, with its higher wages and better welfare programs. There was no reason to rebel.

“Hehe, this isn’t a rebellion. We’re getting back what is ours. We still are slaves even if we earn a few additional francs. Abandon your gun. Even if it’s you, Namir, you won’t be able to avoid all the bullets. If you surrender, we won’t kill you.”

Sun WooHyun glared at the 40 black rifles barrel pointing at him. If it was wakil, he would have swept them all away in an instant. Although, they wouldn’t have thought of rebelling in the first place.

How many could he get rid of? He’d probably be shredded after killing 20 or 30 people.

“Ha, I should have known when you betrayed Nick so quickly…”

Sun WooHyun thought through for a while before abandoning his gun. There was no need to fight them. He had a baseless belief that wakil would save him as long as he remained alive.

“Hehehe, you can call me a b*stard who knows how the situation will end instead.”

“Barungo, you’re making a big mistake. When wakil comes, you won’t be able to die graciously. 100s of people will lose their lives because of you.”

“And that’s why I’m keeping you alive. I may be the high priest, but being loyal to a man of your abilities makes me uncomfortable. Tie him up.”

Three Maroons ran toward him with a rope.

“Shove it, you damn b*stards!” Sun WooHyun said as he moved his hands and feet.

The men, who were about to tie him up, flew like a bunch of leaves.

“Gadanka oongai baca!”

Barungo cast a spell.

“Ugh, what the hell?” Sun WooHyun shouted.

His whole body was immobilized. He couldn’t move a finger. The workers ran toward him and tied him up instantly.

“I’ll perform a ritual that will turn you into a zombie when the lwa of light is at its strongest. Kehahaha!” Barungo laughed refreshingly.

Turn me into a zombie?

Sun WooHyun’s face darkened.

“Officer Majed, our destination is the triangular region in Doba, mid-stream of Pendé River. How long will it take?”

“From Doba, Logone Oriental, the operating distance is 430 kilometers, and the driving distance is 600 kilometers. Most are unpaved roads. It would take approximately 10 hours.”

“What’s the distance from Doba to Fada, Ennedi province?”

“The operating distance is 1,280 kilometers, and the driving distance is 1,870 kilometers,” the officer unhesitantly replied as he went over the map.

“This is problematic…”

He would have to take a 5,000-kilometers distance round trip to visit Novatopia after stopping over at Samaria farm. It was like the mini-version of the Paris-Dakar rally that started several years ago. The thought of running on the dirt road already annoyed him. There was also the hassle of pulling the Jeeps loaded with spare fuels. He’d like to move the Falcon, but there wasn’t any runway near the Ennedi Plateau.

“Officer Majed, contact the headquarters for me.”

In the end, Black Mamba called a helicopter in from the Legion Etranger base. The special military advisor had the authority to move soldiers and equipment when necessary. While he didn’t want to use a helicopter for his personal needs, there wasn’t enough time.

The Legion Etranger’s strategic base in N’Djamena went into a frenzy after receiving orders from the special military advisor. The Gazelle’s maximum flying range was 750 kilometers. While it could travel to Doba with additional fuel tanks, the Ennedi Plateau posed a problem.

It was 1,280 kilometers from Doba to the Ennedi Plateau. There was no way to replenish the jet’s fuel in the Ennedi Plateau. Including its return, they had to consider a 2,600 kilometers flight. It was impossible.

After much consideration, the operations department decided to name Wadi Fira as its stopover before sending a Chinook with two Jeeps in its cabin to the Ennedi Plateau. It was 360 kilometers from Wadi Fira to the north of Ennedi. It wasn’t a challenging distance for the Jeep.

Tutututu—

A loud rotor sound shook the windows of wakil’s house. 30 minutes after their conversation, two Gazelle SA 341 hovered above Wakil Commerce Company.

“Rudrey, aren’t you coming with me?”

“Dubai, I never want to visit that place again. I won’t be able to stand the scent of my father’s blood.” Edel shook her head.

“Nick Wayneright is currently imprisoned. What do you want me to do?”

[1] It is a rope-tuned skin-covered goblet drum played with bare hands, originally from West Africa.

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[2] It is a broad blade used either as an agricultural implement similar to an ax or in combat like a long-bladed knife.

[3] It is a Vodou necklace that protects wearers from evil spells.

[4] Vodou believers.

[5] The head of Vodou rites.