Muroi was blessed with 200-l drum-width legs. One day, her husband refused to eat until she began to walk again. Every time Muhonge shuts his eyes, a satanic wind bounces his tongue-twisting prayers against the feathery clouds. Sometimes, Muroi played with demons by sucking babies’ blood. Later, Muhonge sprinkled holy water over her legs. 

The only journey she had covered since her swollen legs became two boabab trees was between the fireplace and the thatch-roofed hut. Muroi always cooked drumsticks and crispy wings for her hubby. Since her wedding, she hadn’t whispered a swearword to anyone. 

However, at nightfall, she blew her breath into her husband’s nose, which made him sleepy.  

Afterwards, she rode a tsama melon and sneaked into the huts of nursing moms.  Here, she sips babies’ blood by cutting the soft skin with a blade. The mothers complained that their newborns were pale because Muroi was sipping their blood. 

However, Muhonge laughed at the villagers for mocking his churchgoing wife. Later, he prayed until the clouds sweated. Some mothers sang for their babies to sleep during daylight and wailed the night long. One day, Muroi heard from the rustling leaves that her holy husband had spiritually fathered a son. She asked the demons to turn the baby into a housefly. That night, she hid pillows under her husband’s arms along with two water drums as her fake legs. At the rooster’s call, she blows her breath into her husband’s nose and left him snorting like a bush pig.  

Then she rode a wild melon taxi. Soon she snooped the cheater, tickling the boy. “Your daddy will leave all his goats and cows for you,” she said. Immediately, Muroi instructed the evil wind to blow off the paraffin lamp. 

No matter how many times the mother lit the lamp, the cold wind kept blowing it out. Later, the breastfeeding mommy took a catnap, and Muroi sneaked through the cracks between the dung-plastered hut. 

Unluckily, she slipped on crystals of holy salt sprinkled by her husband. Afterwards, she spotted seven black candles flickering over the boy’s head. A black book with red lips was wide open, and Muroi’s legs became stiff. She stood naked over the baby, and the smiling sun revealed her nail scratches around the baby. 

A young man rode a one-legged horse and tipped off her husband.  Suddenly, Muhonge opened his eyes on his knee and searched for his lovely wife.

Footnote: Author of ‘The running tree’