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Today let me share with you a story which happened in 2003. If you are a regular reader of this column, you must be remembering the time I used to trade in produce like simsim, sunflower, groundnuts and maize. I would buy them from Pader and sell them in Kampala. I hope you recall the story where I shafted a woman on the back of a lorry carrying produce from Pajule to Kisenyi. Well, one day as I was doing my normal routine of buying produce from farmers, something I had always been praying against actually happened; Kony’s men raided the village and I was captured alongside other villagers.
As we were being led to the jungles, I realized that I was the Centre of interest because I was suspected to either be a government soldier or a spy and was subjected to a serious session of interrogation. At that time, I had a valid ID from one of the institutes around Kampala where I had just obtained a diploma in Journalism. But as I explained my case, I seemed to irritate my persecutors! For example one of the rebels asked why my ‘Munyoro’ (M7) was causing hunger in Pader by persuading poor farmers to sell off their foodstuff.
On reaching the heart of the jungle, I was paraded before a top commander and if I can recall very well, it was Dominic Ongwen though he was only referred to as either ‘Afande’ or ‘Ladit’. However, the little history I learnt at secondary school helped to gain recognition. I explained to Afande the relationship between the Banyoro and the Acholi. I took him back to the history of migration and explained how the Luo people migrated from Bar-El-Gazel in Southern Sudan, entered northern Uganda before a faction, went to western Uganda and later became the Banyoro. Judging from the way he nodded his head, he was really satisfied with my argument. Afande then ordered his boys and girls to treat me very well.
In the camp, my eyes soon caught the attention of a good looking rebel. She seemed to be an officer of sorts because she ordered people around and whenever there was a problem with a female captive, she was the one called to sort out the issue. After spending some good days without bathing, I started stinking like a rotten rat and tried to explain my case to Afande just for the sake of it. But to my surprise, he promised to grant me permission to go to the river and bathe. One morning as the girls were going to the river, Afande told me to get ready and go with them but cautioned me against trying to flee.
“My girls will finish you off if you stupidly try to flee,” he shouted at me as we left the camp walking in a straight line. I was the only man in the group, and as we walked, my speed could not match theirs and it soon earned me a kick from one of the young female rebels escorting us. When the good-looking female commander saw it, she came running and gave several hot slaps to the girl who kicked me.
She apologized and introduced herself as Afande Ajok; she then walked next to me and asked me so many questions about myself. She told me she used to be a student in Sacred Heart SS in Gulu before she joined the ‘struggle’. She spoke very good English and also knew some Luganda which she learnt when she used to spend her holidays at her Uncle’s home in Kampala. The gap in her teeth and the way her we-shaped breasts shook made me forget I was a captive.
On reaching the river, the girls were told to bathe first, oh my goodness! Acholi women have breasts! Aya ya, ya, ya! I could not believe seeing about thirty girls and women squatting and washing their kandahars at ago. When the girls were done, Afande Ajok ordered all of them to carry water and return to the camp; only five fierce looking female guards remained and took positions on trees. It was Ajok’s turn to bathe; she placed her gun on the rocks and started pulling off her clothes as she romantically smiled at me. I noticed that her knicker was really dirty and had a hole but that was no adequate reason to stop me from admiring her body curves.
I wondered what this girl was doing in the bush. If Sylvia Owori had seen her by that time, she would get a modeling job instantly! The breasts were huge but sharp pointed, I could feel the radiation from five meters away, oh girl! She then dived in the water and started off by washing her dirty panty. “Hey Hyena, won’t you bathe? Please! Come into the water, we have no time and don’t stay in one spot for long,” she shouted at me. The kind of hard-on I was experiencing was so intense that I could feel pain around my stomach. How could I undress and embarrass myself by exposing my erect whopper when five guards were on standby watching? Luckily enough, an antelope emerged from a nearby bush and fled at a high speed causing panic in the area.
Every guard cocked her gun and aimed at it thinking UPDF had attacked us. What really amused me was how Afande Ajok dived for cover. I took advantage of the confusion, quickly undressed and dived in the river and I can assure you, no one saw my erect whopper! I squatted in the water as my stubborn whopper cooled down but Ajok was bending and exposing her bum right near my nose. Though turning her back at me, her juicy looking Kandahar was quite visible from the rear. It was very obvious I was going to bonk this lady, as I was still thinking of where I would get a condom, she invited me to help her scrub her back and I obliged.
As I fulfilled her request, she told me of her ‘suffering’ in the camp. “Hyena, I wish you knew how I am sexually starved, since I joined the struggle, I have never had sex and I feel disgusted masturbating every night,” she said. I asked her how that was possible yet LRA rebels hold a world record of forcing captives into becoming wives and she went on to explain; “Look at my fingers Hyena, our ten commandments do not allow a male rebel to have sex with a lady with six fingers on each hand, that is why I am called Ajok. If it happens, disaster will strike the camp, ask any of those girls!”
She then ordered her five guards to move 200 meters away. As I scrubbed her back, she constantly bumped her butt on me provoking Mr. Boneless to unacceptable limits. She closed her eyes and seemed to enjoy every bit of it. I did not only scrub but massaged her neck and finally extended my fingers to the base of her boobs, before I had even penetrated, she was already moaning like my whopper was 12 inches inside her.
“Please Hyena, massage me with three hands” she pleaded. I wondered what she meant by the ‘three hands’ but she touched my whopper and said, “I mean this hand also”. I first used my fingers to inspect the interiors of her Kandahar before I launched the offensive from the rear using the whopper. True, her Kandahar was so tight, an indication that it last hosted a whopper many years ago in Acholi land.
Supporting herself on a rock, she bent with her legs wide apart, I changed my approach; I always end my bonking sessions with Hyena jazz band but this was a different situation here. I hit her hard as she screamed words I can’t recall in Luo, her body vibrated like a Nokia 3210 and each time I touched her nipples, she would behave like she was being electrocuted. Soon I felt like womanly fluids arrive and I penetrated her deep in the hinterlands of her Kandahar, the pyaka-pyoko, pyaka-pyoko, pyaka-pyoko sound made by her Kandahar was loudly echoed on the banks of River Agago.
Within a few minutes, fish had gathered around us and wished they were the ones bonking this lovely lady! As I tried to show Ajok how we Banyoro men can be, I felt some unusual itching on my balls, on touching; there was something soft and slippery. I halted the bonking and upon checking, some stupid leech had climbed my leg and was busy sucking blood from my balls.
But that did not distract my concentration; I resumed and pumped her even harder as she screamed ‘yessh oooh, yeah ooh, ineka do, mot mot, eyo! Eyo! Eyo! Laa, laa doing!’ (You are killing me, slowly, slowly, right there! Right there! There! Cum, cum now) I felt as if I was flying in space before I realized a hot dose of magma in her Kandahar.
I noticed that her guards had tip toed back and were hiding behind a nearby bush while peeping at us and fingering themselves seriously. Our fun did not last long because all of a sudden, a UPDF chopper hovered around and gunshots followed; we were surrounded by UPDF soldiers who were left speechless while others died of laughter. They could not believe Hyena bonking in the jungles of Pader, of all places! All the girls surrendered and they were treated well. Four of the UPDF soldiers were my classmates in Duhanga and they knew my bonking habits very well. As we moved back to the camp, all they could do was just shake their heads in disbelief.
Till then I remain yours truly, the Mighty Hyena!
