Maybe I believed him maybe I didn’t, but quietly I sat there on a beautifully wooven papyrus mat, my right hand rested upon my chin listening to his old tales in ewe.
He on the other hand, Mr. Kigayaaza, went ahead to narrate the story anyway.
He said, long ago in the days of his youth there lived god’s whose name they couldn’t utter with their lips, so powerful that it was a tradition every now and then to witness a whirl wind carry drums and backlothes to the home of this one “powerful god” Ganyegenya(how he got this name is a story for another day)
“my dear this i witnessed with my own eyes not hear say’s” he continued to affirm.
People used to take their time and worship these gods,offered sacrifices and frequented their shrines. In return the gods revealed how mighty they were to those who believed in them.
“but no so long ago when some how my hair had started to partially turn grey” he continued “these gods somehow just stopped doing these things”
And i sat their wondering why suddenly such a ‘powerful god’ would ceaze unveiling their mighty power.
And then something triggered me, never in my entire life had I heard of a believer in any of these gods the old man was telling me about.
Maybe the gods lived in these people’s hearts, the faith in their greatness, gave them the strength to perform these miracles.
Maybe we create the gods,when we chose to idolize whatever we choose to idolize,and maybe we give them the power to have control over us!
When the faith in what we believe ceases to take root, what we believe in somehow ceases to live!
The gods die when the faith stops….
Travel Diaries Ug 