Only Fairytales

 

My father died when I was very little. Whether his death was by natural causes or he was killed in a war was never explained. Not, at least, to me. And it never bothered me at all. I had Ma. And she gave me all the love I needed in the world. But then, as I was growing up, a rumour came out of nowhere that I was not my father’s son. One day I thought to myself, what could be the mystery behind my birth? It really didn’t matter to me, because having a father meant nothing. But other children started calling me names. They would mock at me and say things like, “You’re not who think you are.” Most of them made faces whenever they saw me. I started to stay at home most of the time, with Ma. And when she went farming or visiting some relatives, I would stay by myself. My brothers were grown up. And my elder brother, Odaarr, had cultivated a habit of beating me for the smallest of mistakes, ones that any other little boy of my age would make. But the way he beat me did not fit the kinds of crimes or mistakes I made. And Paraagg, my second brother, just ignored me as if I did not exist at all. But, of course, I had brothers and sisters by virtue of being born into this village. And yet, mine was not a happy life with my brothers at home, for reasons I could never understand, and I never bothered to find out if there were any at all. It sufficed that Ma was there for me. Ma used to reassure me by saying, “You’re not different from these kids, you’re just very special.” I didn’t know whether I was different or special. And anyway, what difference would it make? All that I knew was that my brothers did not like me very much, and neither did the other children. And so, when Jalldong Kiirr miraculously appeared from nowhere like a harbinger of good news, my life was totally changed.

I must have been five or six when I first noticed Jalldong Kiirr visiting my family from time to time. He came and went. He generally spoke to my mother and played with me before he took off. Since my two older brothers regarded him as an old man who had lost his mind, they never uttered a word to him. They just looked at him like he was a scarecrow. And for that, I hated them bitterly. I also noticed that my mother was very keen on talking to him whenever he visited us, and so I immediately took a liking to him.

One cold morning, Jalldong Kiirr visited us. It must have been December because, as I can remember now, looking through the eyes of my childhood, that in December my village used to experience a very cold, dry winter with the north wind blowing hard all day long. And at night there were a thousand sounds lingering in the dark. The howling of the wind through the night was the scariest sound, one that I could never forget. Once, Jalldong Kiirr told me a fairytale about the month of December. He said that it was in December that the doors of hell were let loose by Lojaak, the most beautiful of all the angels of God who felt neglected after God created Deng and Abock. He felt that God was spending more and more time with Deng and Abock admiring them, in Kaalla’b (the garden of creation). Lojaak thought in the privacy of his mind one night, these human creatures have taken away my glory, the glory that was entrusted to me by virtue of being the first born; born not from clay but from fire. I, Lojaak, elder of all creations, must reclaim what is rightfully mine. He was craving attention and got none from God. He then became disgruntled and furious, and sought to take revenge and destroy the human creatures, so he would have God solely to himself. And so one day, at midnight, he cast a spell on Lobaak, the angel guardian, who guarded the doors of hell with eyes that never slept in the cycle of time, and he fell into a deep sleep. Lojaak crept across the line that separated Kaalla’b and hell, which was never to be crossed until the end of time. He again cast a spell on the doors of hell, causing them to fly again. All the condemned souls broke loose into the world and snatched away Deng and Abock. When God learned of Lojaak’s actions, he was not very pleased, at all. “For you’ve dishonoured me by this act of fury, Lojaak,” said God. “And I, God of all creations, command you to leave Kaala’b. Until Deng and Abock’s offspring are all restored safely into my company of glory, you shall remain an alien to me.” God had spoken and Lojaak lost not only the glory but also the supremacy of the garden.

As he left the garden of creation, Lojaak proclaimed, in his private thoughts, “I, Lojaak, elder of all creations, must defeat all the condemned souls of hell that broke loose into the world and took away Deng and Abock. I must bring the human creatures’ offspring back into the company of glory of my creator. Until then I remain an alien to my creator.”

“And so the thousand sounds you hear lingering in the dark every night are the sounds of the fight between Lojaak and the condemned souls of hell that broke loose into the world on that midnight in December.” Jalldong Kiirr had concluded the tale. I was scared to my very bones, so he held my hand and said, “That’s just a fairytale.”

The dry cold my village experienced in the month of December made your body dry and itchy. It cracked your skin and made you look very grey and wan. And it forced every family to boil their water to wash in the morning while they drank tea.

Without any direct link to the myth, my people believed that December was the perfect month to get married as you could find out whether the woman you were planning to marry was capable of taking good care of her body to look good. Women were expected to apply grease, from cow’s milk, to their bodies, which made them look sassy and beautiful. And so only lazy women would not do that. The second reason was to find out whether the bride would be able to rise early in the morning to boil water for everyone in the family, as well as for everyone in the village, as that was the task expected of a new bride. The customs were such that whenever there was a bride in a family, it was literally understood that everyone could go to that family to get some hot water. And so, when my older brother took a bride, all roads led to my family’s house.