KORR YANDEH BOUNCES BACK
By Baba Galleh Jallow
Five days to the great event, Korr Yandeh caught the flu. He coughed and
spluttered and complained of pricking pains in his chest and limbs. Deep
within himself, he thought his pushing and shoving of the trees was taking
its toll. Outwardly however, he made it known that a potential contestant
was ‘working’ him.
‘I see him in my dreams,’ he says to visitors. He’s small as a rat. But hey,
let me tell you this, the blood of the head cannot miss the neck! Hernia or
no hernia, let’s drop the pants!’
His visitors would shower him with praises and marvel at his valour. Lion!
They would exclaim, even if he is dying he is prepared to fight! And so the
great Korr Yandeh coughed and spluttered and occasionally groaned, but told
everybody not to worry, it was OK, he would break the neck of any potential
challenger.
Three days to the event, Korr Yandeh announced that he was now as healthy as
a coin. To convince the skeptics, he asked that a mock wrestling trial be
held in his large yard that very evening. There would be no actual contests,
but wrestlers could jump into the ring and to the accompaniment of drumming
and clapping, practice their lagga dance and do some somersaults. Korr
Yandeh himself was going to perform his unique lagga dance, which earned him
his cobra fame and sent many a maiden rushing blindly into the ring to wrap
him with scarfs and lappas.
Shortly after sunset, when dinner had been served and the drums adequately
heated, the whole village was drowned in the mad crescendo of the first
drumbeats of the wrestling season, which sent the blood rushing in the veins
of young men, brought tears to their eyes and elicited occasional shrill
shouts.
No longer able to contain his excitement, Korr Yandeh rushed from his hut
amid loud cries of Nyangorr! Nyangorr! and burst into the middle of the
ring. Immediately, the drummers struck up his special rhythm, the rhythm of
the feared cobra. With a leaf-shaking shout, Korr Yandeh flew into the air
and landed, feet astride, arms akimbo. He looked this way and that, this way
and that, wriggled his body and slithered and twisted and hissed. He rushed
fast forward and stopped and fiercely glanced around, and shook his open
arms and shouted out aloud. The shouting and clapping and drumming seemed to
shake the skies, as Korr Yandeh expertly rattled ang hurtled round and round
the ring, before making his exit to give way to other wrestlers.
Finally, the great day arrived. The arrangement was that Korr Yandeh would
stay at home until a challenger comes forward. At that point, word was to be
sent to him so he could come.
Korr Yandeh did not have long to wait. Soon, ear-splitting shouts came from
the direction of the arena, signaling that someone had come forward to
accept the great cobra’s challenge. In another moment, a messenger came
running to Korr Yandeh and declared that someone had accepted his challenge.
‘Who is he?’ Korr Yandeh asked.
‘He is Nyai,’ the messenger said. ‘Nyai the elephant, son of Tega the
blacksmith.’
‘Nyai? Nyai who?’ Korr Yandeh appeared incredulous. ‘Did you say the son of
Tega the blacksmith?’
‘Yes,’ the messenger said.
‘No it cannot be,’ Korr Yandeh said. ‘We don’t touch blacksmiths; they are
taboo to us.’ He angrily turned and stomped into his hut, slamming the door
shut behind him. He had asked to wrestle with yound men, not elephant
blacksmiths! In fact, he was no longer interested in any so-called wrestling
contests!
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