The Day the Bush Men Came
It was a sunny afternoon, the kind that made the soil soft and perfect for farming. Mama Efe, a strong and spirited woman in her mid-forties, was working diligently on her small piece of land. She hummed a local tune as she dug into the earth, sweat glistening on her forehead. It was just another peaceful day—or so she thought.
Out of nowhere, two strange-looking men emerged from the edge of the bush. They were barefoot, covered in mud and leaves, and looked like they hadn’t seen soap in twenty years. Their eyes were wide, their movements jerky, and they began to speak rapidly in a language that Mama Efe had never heard in her life. To make matters worse, they were pointing in her direction, stepping closer and gesturing wildly.
Now, Mama Efe was no fool. The moment she laid eyes on them, her instincts kicked in. These were not ordinary men. They were bush men—the type you only hear about in fireside stories. She froze for a moment, trying to understand their strange language, but whatever they were saying wasn’t helping their case. Their strange behavior and scary looks said enough.
She didn’t wait for further explanations. Action speaks louder than voice! With her hoe in one hand and slippers barely hanging onto her feet, she took off like a bolt of lightning, running through the bush path and leaving her tools behind. If there had been a marathon that day, Mama Efe would’ve taken gold.
Back on the farm, the bush men stood in confusion, scratching their heads. One of them, clearly annoyed, turned to the other.
“I told you we should have beaten her first!” he barked in their own dialect.
“And I told you we should capture her! But nooo,” the other replied, rolling his eyes. “Now she’s gone!”
The first bush man stomped the ground in frustration. “These people in this environment, ehn... always disturbing our peace. Can’t a bush man walk freely without someone screaming and running?”
The second sighed. “No problem. We’ll hunt her tomorrow. She can run, but she can’t hide forever. Once we get her... we’ll eat her.”
“Good plan. Let’s go and come back tomorrow. She won’t expect it.”
And just like that, they disappeared into the forest, leaving behind nothing but footprints and confusion.
Meanwhile, Mama Efe didn’t stop running until she reached the village square, panting like someone who just escaped from a lion’s den.
“What happened, Mama Efe?” asked one of the elders.
She gasped for air. “Bush men! Two of them! Came out from the forest—talking nonsense and looking like spirits!”
The villagers gathered quickly, some laughing, others alarmed. They knew Mama Efe didn’t scare easily, so something strange had truly happened. A meeting was called immediately. Drums were beaten. Youths were sent into the bush to investigate.
Of course, the bush men were long gone by then. But one thing was certain: Mama Efe was now the village hero. Her dramatic escape became a story told at night around cooking fires, with children acting out her sprint and adults laughing at the absurdity of it all.
And the bush men? Well, rumor has it they never came back. Some say they got lost. Others believe Mama Efe’s speed scared them so much they decided to look for a quieter village with slower farmers.
Either way, that farm remained untouched for weeks, as no one wanted to risk meeting the mysterious bush men who speak in tongues and quarrel about eating humans.
Moral of the story? In this life, if you see bush men approaching you, don’t wait to understand their language—run first, ask questions later!
▶️ 3Speak