There was once a kingdom by the Zambezi River. It was a beautiful kingdom with rivers and mountains. The kingdom had very precious minerals such as gold, emeralds and copper. The people used to sell their minerals to other kingdoms. They would make a lot of money from selling the copper. The leader of the kingdom was KK. Everyone in the kingdom loved him. He was a very wise king. People from across Africa would come to listen to his wise words.
Some years back, the British had come to the kingdom with guns. They were bad people. They destroyed homes and made everyone their slaves. They chased KK to live in the bush. They were getting copper from the kingdom and taking it to Europe. This made the people sad. They cried out to their leader to get their kingdom back.
KK was very sad. He wanted his people to be happy. He sat with a sad face thinking of what he could do. He then remembered what he had read from the Bible. His memory was clear now. He remembered the time Moses was sent to rescue the Israelites from slavery in Egypt. He then came up with a plan of forming a group of warriors. He was going to choose eleven warriors to go with him. He would call them ‘KK 11.’
He chose people from all over the kingdom. From the North and the West, he chose Mutale and Mubita. These were very good swimmers and they would attack from the water. From the East and North West, he picked Chinyama and Mabvuto; these were warriors on land as they wore masks and carried spears and shields. From the South and North East, Mutinta and Mwaka were chosen. These were good with the bow and arrow. And from the Central part of the kingdom, Pezo and Shuko were selected. The two were very good at using catapults.
KK called the ones he had selected and told them why he had called them. He told them that they needed to work together to get the kingdom back from the British soldiers. As they were talking, they heard some noise from the nearby bush. Out of there came three people. There were different from them.
“KK, we have been looking for you,” said one of the men.
“Who are you?” Asked KK. He was wondering whether they were soldiers or spies.
“We are friends,” they said, “We come in peace.”
“What are your names?”
“My name is Jones,” said one of them, “this is Lee and he is Rajesh.”
“What do you want?” KK asked.
“We hear you want warriors,” they said, “we want to join you.”
“KK, they can’t join us,” Mutale said, “they are spies.”
“We have weapons which you don’t have,” they said.
“How can white people join the fight?” asked Mutinta, “It’s not possible.”
The warriors were becoming angry and wanted to attack the three men who had just come. KK kept quiet. All of them then turned to him to ask what his decision was.
“Allow me to think about this situation,” he said, “let’s meet tomorrow again.”
The two groups left in two different directions. They left him all alone. He sat down to think about whether he could allow the three-white people into his army. He remembered what his grandfather had told him a long time ago. The lesson was in his memory.
The following day, he assembled all of them to address them. He then said to them.
“The rainbow is very beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” they responded.
“Where do all those colours come from?” he asked.
“From white light,” Mutinta responded.
“Very right,” KK said.
“In the same way, the African continent gives birth to different colours and tongues of people,” he continued.
“We are all different; Jones is white, Lee is yellow, Rajesh is brown, I am black and we all speak different languages,” he said.
“We are the same in that we are all Africans, born from the same soil and we have one enemy,” he continued.
“We are going to fight as one, fighting one enemy; the British.”
The following morning, all the warriors took their positions. At the signal given by KK, the KK 11 attacked the British. The British were surprised and surrendered immediately.
The people were free again. They were happy and thanked the KK 11. The people in the kingdom have kept that day in their memory. They always remember the day the KK 11 worked as one for their freedom.
Read – Our Dying Home – A Children’s Story by Moses Tololo, Zambia
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