07/06/2026
Good evening Mkhulu, Evening Mahu,
Mkhulu, please tell us a story, Mahu asked with wide eyes full of expectation.
Mkhulu smiled warmly and said,
"Alright, kids, gather around; let me tell you a story. It all begins in a small village, surrounded by valleys and caves, where I grew up. There was so much ground to explore—hidden spots out of reach for grown-ups—and we spent our days playing all sorts of games. We’d come back home in the evening, exhausted but happy."
He paused, reminiscing.
"We were a close-knit group of village kids. We’d swim in the rivers, climb small mountains and cliffs, and hunt birds—whatever kids did back then. But the best part was when our friend Sdavani was around. He was a strange-looking boy, with a chest full of thick hair. Honestly, I can’t even remember his face clearly, but I remember the beautiful stone he always carried in his hand."
Mkhulu’s eyes twinkled as he continued.
"He took such good care of that stone. Even when we played with it, he’d reach out for it, take it back, and sometimes put it on his tongue when he needed both hands for a game. We loved having him with us. He’d lead our games and was always the center of our adventures."
He paused briefly, a hint of nostalgia in his voice.
"We didn’t know where he lived. When the sun was about to set or when an adult appeared, he’d just vanish. We didn’t question it—he was used to disappearing and reappearing whenever he wanted."
Mkhulu’s face softened with nostalgia.
"One night, while my brothers and I were sleeping peacefully, Sdavani came and quietly lay down on the floor beside us. It was strange but comforting—like he belonged there.
But then, my youngest brother, who was only four years old, woke up and saw him. Fear took over his little face. He let out a loud cry and hid his face in his hands, pointing tremblingly into the darkness where Sdavani had disappeared.
Startled, we all woke up. Sdavani had vanished in an instant, like a shadow slipping away into the night. Our parents rushed to see what was wrong. Seeing my brother crying and pointing into the darkness, they became worried and called a traditional healer, an inyanga.
The inyanga examined the situation carefully. After some thought, they told us it wasn’t witchcraft or anything evil. Instead, they said that Sdavani was a mystical creature of nature.
He looked at the children kindly.
"To this day, I don’t know what Sdavani truly was. When I reached adolescence, I never saw him again. Sometimes I try to find him in the younger kids, but they just look at me impatiently, as if I’m disturbing their play."
He smiled softly, concluding the story.
"That is the tale of Sdavani—a mysterious friend from my childhood. Perhaps he was a spirit, a guardian, or simply a creature of nature. Whatever he was, he remains in my memory as one of the most magical parts of my youth."
And with that, Mkhulu gently nodded, inviting the children to imagine their own mysterious friends and adventures.
Written by NJ Magudulela
