The Depth of Dark Dreams

For centuries, the Gciriku (Kavango) tribe has depended upon the almighty, life-giving Kavango river. From this precious jewel, they tap all required resources to sustain their daily lives. Cultivating small crops alongside the river, fishing, washing and bathing are the order of the day.

From the Cubango highlands in central Angola, a small stream grows into what we now know as the Kavango river. Flowing southwards, the river enters Namibia, where it shapes the Namibian northeastern border with Angola, providing a scenic and magnificent vein of life.

In December of 2001, a small family living next to the Kavango River, enjoyed the simplest pleasures in life. The head of the house looked after his small herd of 15 cows with his son, and also saw to the vegetable garden and maize. Close to sunset, the family would go to the river to fish. Bream was plentiful and offered enriching vitamins and nutrients. With fishing rods made out of bamboo and a short piece of line tied to the tip, it was easy and fun to catch a nutritious meal.

The grandmother was old and mostly stayed at home, watching her last sunsets pass in peace. She was also waiting for her gift from God. Her son’s wife was soon to bear her first child. The old grandmother was very excited for surely she would have the privilege of looking after the child from time to time.

One night whilst the rain softly tapped on her grass and clay hut, the old woman had a terrible dream. She stumbled to her son’s hut, and with a tear in her eye, she explained her dream to him.

She woke feeling as if she had seen the devil himself. With his ugly yellow eyes he glared at her. His teeth were white and shiny, with blood dripping from them. In the mouth of the beast, she saw the lifeless body of her son’s wife.

The next morning the father spoke with the family regarding his mother’s vision. He ordered his expectant wife not to go near the river. She was not allowed to fish or bath in the river, for the devil was waiting for her … in the shape of a crocodile.

Fortunately, the young wife adhered to her husband’s words and was only allowed to cool herself far from the river’s edge, in a small wash basin.

The father and son could clearly see the change in the environment as their fishing suddenly came to a stand still. The heat was nearly unbearable. With mosquitoes breaking the crystal of silence, the father’s eyes became heavier and heavier, until he could keep them open no more. Then, the dream crept into his sleep. He saw the same visions as his mother. His wife was standing next to the river, fishing. He could see all the fish she had caught. By her side, he saw his wife’s sister, talking and laughing as they relished their successful catch of the day. Like lightning the devil pounded on his wife and dragged her into the dark and murky depths of the river. His heart raced as the events played off in front of his eyes. He woke from the dream with trembling hands and a shaky voice.

Again the young wife was told to stay clear of the river. She was under no circumstances allowed to go near the water, for the crocodile would surely take her as his own.

The spree of bad luck continued as the rains stayed away with the fish. All there was to eat was maize meal made into thick porridge. Despair quickly took hold of the family’s daily life.

Just a few days after the husband’s horrible nightmare, a sudden cry woke him from his sleep. Next to him, his wife swept a tear from her eye. Concerned that she was going into labor, he called out for his mother to assist. The old woman hurriedly made her way into the hut. Finally, the young woman spoke. It was the same dark dream. This time the young woman saw her own death come in a swift latch of jaws.

The next day her husband decided to visit a local witchdoctor. He had slaughtered one of his cattle for payment. This sacrifice in itself was testimony of his eagerness not to allow the dream to become reality. Armed with blessed herbs, the husband returned home to wash his wife with this powerful magic. She screamed as he did so, for some of the herbs were burning her flesh. She endured the pain as the witchdoctor had recommended, in the hope of sparing her life from the beast that had now revealed himself three times.

Another week passed with no rain, no fish, no milk. The heat became worse and flies swarmed in the stagnant, hot air. Frustrated from the desperate conditions and hungry for fish, the wife’s sister decided to go try her luck. She insisted that her pregnant sister stay at home.

The bamboo fishing rod swayed in the wind, the line glistening like a thread of silver. Suddenly everything seemed to change. Clouds appeared out of nowhere and the heat of the day was pushed aside.

A voice startled the young woman. Behind her, her sister stood, looking very guilty. Finally, the pregnant woman insisted on coming a bit closer to the river’s edge.

Standing side by side, the women were amazed at how quickly the fish started to bite. One after another they were pulled from their watery home, tugging hard and relentlessly at the bait that teased their senses. Never before had they caught so many fish in such a short period of time.

Together the two women walked to their favorite fishing spot, a little island with a “back-water” of about ten meters in width separating it from the land. The water was shallow and the two women walked through the calm water. Again the fish seemed to literally jump out of the water onto the land. They had broken the spell at last!

When the fishing bags were full, they decided to head back. They simply had to cross the little back-water and run home as fast as their legs could carry them.

The younger of the two women made it first to the other side, to safety. As she turned around to wait for her sister, her smile disappeared. Within a second all thoughts of that day had disintegrated. So close she was to the shore that the water only came up to her knees. She looked up and saw the horrified look on her sister’s face.

About three meters from her, a huge crocodile came hurtling towards her, using his powerful tail as an oar. The crocodile was now upon her, tearing deeply into her flesh with its powerful jaws and shiny white teeth.

From a quiet slumber her grandmother woke with the startling realization that something was wrong. She cried for help and her son came running to her aid. She was convinced that his wife was being attacked by a crocodile. He ran like a mad man, stumbling over thorn bush and rocks.

The young woman looked at her leg and did not realize it was her own. Through the shallow waters he dragged her with amazing strength. She tried to fight at first, but soon relinquished. The realization of the dark dreams came pouring back and pumped through her blood as it filled the Kavango River.

Armed with a knife tightly clenched in his hand, he dove into the river at the spot where he had seen his wife submerge. He could barely make out the powerful whipping of the crocodile’s tail as he was pushed further from his wife with each motion the killer made. He surfaced to a new, empty world filled with regrets.

A week later the corpse was found 50 kilometers from where the woman had been attacked. The crocodile was never found and is presumably still alive today.