Long ago in the land of Lidara there lived a man who came to be known as Bakhati, which means ‘the lucky one’ in the Lidara dialect. This nickname resulted from the “how lucky” response that he gave in any unfolding event, good or bad. That went for the birth of a newborn, a wedding, a funeral, and even when cattle rustlers are raiding the village. Despite the awkwardness of his responses, especially following a sad incident, Bakhati was still loved and respected by the Lidarans. He was a peaceful being unlike some rabble-rousers in the village. Mukasa, the village’s ruler was especially fond of him. In spite of his blue-blooded veins, he sought a trustworthy companion in the lowly Bakhati. Being age mates, the two had grown up together and even got initiated into manhood at the same time. Even though he did not have any formal position in the Lidara regime, Bakhati was still allowed to hold banter with the ruler whenever he pleased. Mukasa went with him everywhere, be it a hunting expedition or an official visit to some far away part of the village. He enjoyed his company.

That is until the day the that two were practicing with their new crossbows and weaponry that cuts. Mukasa had moved forward to reposition his target just as Bakhati was releasing an arrow from his crossbow. Still learning his way around the novel weapons, Bakhati hands were shaky and his aim swiftly shifted from the target mannequins to Mukasa’s big left toe. Schhwaff-chi!  The arrow tore away the sinews and bony masses that bonded Mukasa to his toe. The ruler shrieked in anguish while Bakhati moved in to examine the aftermath of his cause. A bloody amputate. “How lucky”, said Bakhati, in his usual indifferent tone. For the first time, his famous utterances drove his best friend into a never seen before rage. Clenching his teeth, the ruler looked up, in dismay, both from the pain emanating from his severed digit and his friend’s inconceivable reaction. Does anything out-of-the-ordinary ever register in the vapid mind of this dull-witted moron? He wondered. “Arrest him”. He shouted at the onlooking guards who were unsure of how to handle the situation with the ruler’s bezzie. So, by the ruler’s orders, Bakhati was charged with attempted murder and locked away. “How lucky”. He kept saying even as the heavy, steel doors shut tight and rendered him encapsulated in a tiny, stuffy, dark space.

A few weeks passed and Mukasa decided to go on a hunting trip. This was the first time he went hunting alone as he usually goes with Bakhati. He wanted to use the time to clear his head before Bakhati was executed. The ruler demanded that the execution should take place when he returns from his excursion.

Into the dense, dark, forest Mukasa went as the memories of him and his former friend played in his mind. Suddenly, a jolt into a huge trap net brought his senses back to reality and his back, flat on the twiggy surface of the jungle. Towering above him were the appalling faces of giant apes, grinning, dancing, and high-fiving one another for the catch. Mukasa had heard tales of the Ape creatures that feed on humans and animals that wander into their territory. However, he had thought of them as fables until this moment. His heart was pounding visibly on his leopard skin vest as two handy-apes lifted him off the surface and into their village.

Everyone, well except for Mukasa, was in a quite merry mood. It’s not every day that they get to have a human for dinner. As the female apes set the fire and put a huge pot over it, the male ones stripped Mukasa of his regalia and carried him to the boiling pot. Just as Mukasa’s skin started sensing the hot vapor rising from the pot under him, a sudden whistle pierced into the air and rendered everything into a standstill. The ape chief was examining Mukasa’s feet in disgust. “Gwaif, gwaif“, he shouted, which means, untouchable in that ape language. The eating of sickly and non-whole humans is strictly forbidden in their culture. And here, Mukasa was a whole man minus a toe. They put him down and harshly ordered him to go back to his village, never to return to that side of the jungle again.

So, Mukasa never looked back. He ran and only stopped when his feet put him at the entrance of the cell holding up his imprisoned friend. When the door to the cell opened, he hugged his friend and burst into tears. “How lucky I am today. I’m alive because of you.” He then turned to the guards. “Release him at once and consider the charges against him dropped.” As Mukasa narrated his encounter to the bewildered Bakhati, he told him how sorry he was for throwing him in prison; to which Bakhati replied. “for the time that I was in prison, I have been lucky” “How so?” The perplexed Mukasa asked. “Because, if you hadn’t thrown me in jail for the toe, I would most likely have been with you in that hunting trip. I would have been ape meal now.”
They rekindled their friendship and Mukasa now understood his friend’s perspective. Everything that happens no matter how unfortunate has a good reason. The villagers found it unbelievable, that a person who had been sentenced for a murder attempt against a ruler has been set free. Indeed, Bakhati was a lucky one.