Donkey years ago, along the edges of the Omatako River, a naked-chest clan used to wolf dragonflies. Throughout the feast, kinfolks puffed the scattered see-through wings.
The grey-haired men schooled the juveniles on how to simmer or roast the dragonflies. The girls plucked the red gums from the dragon trees, and muddled finger-sticking jam.
The kith and kin built swings from palm trees, and snoozed under the twinkling stars.
At dawn, they used y-shaped sticks to shoot down zillions of dragonflies.
Furthermore, they kindled blue and yellow flames, and roasted the dragonflies.
The unfruitful womenfolk massaged their tummies with creepy-crawlies, while pregnant-like men cured their gout by stretching their jawbones until a dragonfly alighted into their mouths. This barbaric practice maddened the trippers as clouds of dragonflies were burnt to crisp.
First, the girls dyed the filmy wings with red oil, and stitched the wings into knee-shy skirts. Some of the glossy wings were sewed into sunhats for the chief’s concubines.
Bachelors shot dragonflies with slings in order to seduce the virgins. Soon, the romantic bachelors carpeted the jungle with dragonflies’ wings.
Luckily, the black cows were chased to cattle posts for fear they would mistook the floating wings for manna leaves.
Dehydrated travelers unearthed the barbarous partying and kvetched that the dragonflies would become extinct.
The natives refused to stop with the pagan carnivals as white-faced witch doctors divined that more flies will come from the east. The locals only stopped the feast when white smoke began to crown the Ozohungu Mountains.
The holidaymakers were upset that all dragonflies would die out.
Soon, the insects’ toothsome parties reached the ears of Caesar. The king sent a steel dragonfly, and the dragonet soldiers sprayed bullets at the natives.
Since then, the natives started worshiping the dragonfly gods as flocks of helicopters pelleted bullets at the feast-goers. The butchery of the twisty-haired men ended the holy feast of the dragonflies.
However, every time it rains, the natives would flock to the Omatako River for the dragonflies’ rites.
Up to this day, the dressing of the mind-blowing skirts tailored from the dragonflies’ wings was discontinued.
The dwellers of the Twinning Mountains have started wearing umbrella-shaped grass and twig dresses in remembrance of the dragon wings’ skirts.
Survivors escaped the wrath of dragons’ gods, and the parties can be heard in their handclapping songs and feet-stomping dances.
* This is historical fiction