Odanga Is Still Fighting

Many years after the First World War, in the 1960s, Chivutionyi was at his son-in-law Jotham’s home, sitting in his grandsons’ simba, (boys’ house within the homestead), and telling them stories about how he’d evaded the forceful conscription. They asked: ‘Kuka, how did you escape?’ He told them that as soon as he’d heard about the conscriptions, he was determined not to go. ‘It was not for me,’ he said. Chivutionyi was a tall and stout man. When the recruiters were close by, Chivutionyi took off running. The gang hunted him like an antelope, but Chivutionyi was fast on his feet and familiar with the terrain. He approached the edge of the river, while they still chased him. He wondered how he’d get across it. He’d so far kept a big distance between himself and those who were following him, but then he spotted one man who was somehow ahead, facing him, and ready to capture him. There was some financial incentive for the chiefs and other people who helped capture people like Chivutionyi. This is why they were chasing him. Chivutionyi felt trapped—to his front and to his back he was in grave danger. With time running out, Chivutionyi dared the man ahead of him, ‘nuli musatsa khuvukaniri hamukoko!’ ‘If you are a man, let’s meet at the shore of the river!’ Then he charged, and this man who’d been in his way panicked, perhaps realizing that Chivutionyi was going to push him into the raging river. He jumped out of Chivutionyi’s way. Chivutionyi kept running, on he went along the river and later through the forested lands and made his way to the highlands. Here, he found safety, and worked for his sustenance, ironically on a European’s farm. He didn’t return to his home and his family until he was sure that the war had ended. His grandchildren said to him, ‘Kuka, it’s good you were a courageous man, now we see you, while the other courageous person is not here.’