Bush Satire

Umbiba glared at the boy before him. A half empty basket of fruit lay at his feet. The shortage was a growing concern for him, but he hadn’t felt it until now. “What are we to fuel his chariot with?” Umbiba cried, but the little boy’s lip began to quiver and he ran away. Umbiba grabbed his walking stick in one hand, the fruit in the other, and hoisted himself up from his stool. Emerging into the cool morning air, he squinted as he peered into the horizon. “Oh Sun God! Take this fruit to feed the flames of your chariot!” Silence overtook the village as they all stared to the west, watching, waiting. People began to look around at each other, awkwardly changing positions before peering into the horizon again. Slowly his chariot appeared, bathing the cracked ground in dry heat. The villager’s cheers echoed through the temple as they turned and looked at Umbiba’s empty basket.
Umbiba turned and hobbled back into the temple, descending down the steps into his quarters. The stool creaked as he relaxed at the table, pulling a small fruit from the fold of his robe and gorging himself on its sweet flesh. His muscles relaxed as it’s juices were pulled into his body. A seed lodged in his throat and it became hard to breathe. He coughed and gagged, but the little boy ran in and gave him the Heimlich. Scattered on the table were the Sacred Fruits, and the little boy glared at Umbiba. He regained his color and offered a fruit to the boy, who took it and ate it. It was more than his little body could handle and he passed out, but now Umbiba would need fruit to sustain him too. The only way to protect his assets would be to keep the Zulus, their rival tribe, away from the Sacred Grove, but how could he do that? When the little boy awoke, Umbiba asked him to ponder on the matter. After a few minutes the boy spoke. “You must go to war with the Zulus.”
Umbiba’s eyes grew wide as the thought permeated his brain. Shooing the boy away, he delighted in his new idea. He was going to declare war against the Zulus. He could gain complete control over the Sacred Grove, and better yet he could gain control over the Zulus. Then two tribes would bring him the fruit of the Sacred Grove. He hobbled back out into the air and let his voice carry throughout the village. “The Zulu Mage has stopped feeding the flames of the Sun God! He is not only causing the pain and suffering of his own people, but he threatens our own safety and way of life!”
Shrieks pounded his eardrums as women fell to the ground crying. Men ran to their homes, gathering their spears and painting their faces. In hordes they raced into the distance, beating their chests and bellowing their best war cries. In a matter of hours they reached the Zulu village, searching for the Zulu mage. For forty days and forty nights they searched the land, and finally they uncovered his lair. Hiding in a giant Dung Beetle ball, the Zulu mage thought he was safe, but what did he know? The warriors brought him back to their Village and great banners were strung from the temple claiming ‘Mission Accomplished’. The women grabbed their husbands and sons in their arms and thanked the Sun God for their protection, but it didn’t last long. Umbiba addressed them again, telling the warriors that they still needed to go protect the Sacred Grove. The men picked up their spears and walked back into the distance, dragging their feet as they moved.
Every morning the little boy would deliver Umbiba a basket of fruit and he would prompt the Sun God to take his chariot across the sky, and he would, but the village had changed. The villagers didn’t stop and watch the horizon like they used too. In fact, most of them glared at Umbiba, making it difficult for him to slip the fruit into his robe without them noticing. Rumors began to spread among the villagers that the Sun God didn’t need the Sacred fruit, and their husbands and sons were putting their lives on the line for no reason. Umbiba reassured them that the Sun God would be favorable to them for spreading the word of their religion, but few fell for his excuses. Soon the little boy began bringing baskets of fruit that were not full. The less fruit that Umbiba was able to eat, the more he began to stutter and twitch. He tried to convince the villager’s to take the fruit from the lone tree that stood at the edge of the village in memory of Arctica Resee, but they would have nothing of it. His warriors had started deserting their posts at the Grove and the Zulus were no longer delivering their fruit.
One day the little boy showed up with an empty basket. Umbiba didn’t emerge from the temple to make his offering, and yet still the Sun God rode across the sky. The people rebelled. The warriors came home and attacked. The temple was left in ashes and Umbiba was forced to join the tribe to the north. You know, the tribesman who say ‘Eh’ all the time. Umbiba was replaced by Obama, and the people were given the power to govern themselves. All of their lands became extremely fertile, producing enough food to feed many tribes. The women became more fertile as well, and the tribe grew at an amazing rate. The flowers smelled sweeter. The cows milk was whiter. Wonderful songs emanated from unknown sources and peace swept over the land. As for Umbiba, no one knows where he has gone. The northern tribe apparently kicked him out as well, and he hasn’t been heard of since. The fact is… no one really cared. All of his mistakes were a thing of the past.