SEVEN gODS ONE MAN - SASANI

continually for days, and years. He has been busy discarding
deeply planted roots of insalubrity and infirmness on earth.
The ceremony has just begun and the whole Ndala square is
becoming occupied with folks who have forever been devoted to the
culture of causing the air a stir. I will not give a count for the
populace on such a cause, numbers will count and still fail.
The colours of ribbons around attributive maypoles are in a blend
with the colours on their beautiful apparels; and other items of the
regalia do bask in the identity for a plumage of an arched rainbow in
winter firmament.
Dignified elders are seated around a set-apart place from the
common ground, raised of puffy sacks impregnated with god-knowswhat
cluster of rubbish- this seems to be in vogue of the custom as
well. Fully braided lasses are dressed in chipmunk-striped skin attire
and laced with peacock feathers.
Into a distant length of the ceremony; the elders, observing the
ordinances of their momentous celebration gulp and topple countless
wine cans till their eyes become embittered with redness, and their
senses imbue with nasty fancies. Dr. Highwater appears like a
naughty community agent, the one who hitherto has been fully in
service until the grant for a furlough. He bears sulky sharp eyeballs,
a pair that when you see them, you think you have seen a dreadful
wolf at night. He seems to dichotomize the souls of folks who all
observe their human ritual, in every bit of the ceremonial moments.
The projenitors of DDimanka and the novel initiates of its institution
never meet over a conference, to iron out the opinion for which the
ceremony holds- to the young cohorts who are called to it, culture is
always full of esteem. It should be embraced without a concern
whatsoever.
Woe to the unbegotten son of whom shall query its validity! -there
are fishes in the river of DDimanka, all you need is a hook, line and its
sinker, so you can catch one!