The sun is muffled by dark grey clouds rumbling a prophecy of rain. beneath, we say “Amen” and wait for it to come to pass. For hours we watch, the dark countenance of the clouds gradually lightening up until it culminates in the sun’s dazzling smile. He is happy to speak again. We wear a frown (and a shirt of sweat).
The locals speak in hushed tones about one who walks the earth endowed with power over the rain. In louder voices, they blame the Hausa cattle traders stationed across the railway of employing his services to prevent rainfall which the traders claim will kill their cattle and ruin business.
No one has ever seen the rainmaker. Everyone living in my town however witnesses his presence: convincingly dark clouds, hot still air, a little breeze, gusts of wind, incoming “missionary clouds” chasing the dark“heathens” away and in the process, bleaching the complexion of our African sky.
Do you have any stories of yours to tell about urban legends in your area? Please feel free to drop a line or two of it here. Thanks!