Kakanyero's
Fire Stick by Annemarie
I was seven when I learnt that you could make fire with a magnifying glass...and I was fascinated. My parents still asleep I found my father's magnifying glass, in a carved box on the sideboard. I sat on the front lawn, focussed the early morning sun on the black centres of the anemone flower prints of my new baby doll pyjamas. Little swirls of smoke began to curl upwards; I moved from one flower to the next - seven holes and seven red marks on my thighs. My parents were cross, actually they were very cross...and sad, at my spoilt new pyjamas and my father, in a stern voice, decided a visit to Kakanyero's forge to learn 'to respect fire', was necessary.
I was fascinated by this always happy man - his name, Kakanyero, actually means laughter in the Acholi tribal language. He had suffered from elephantiasis and shuffled everywhere on his heavy, swollen legs, always in a crouching position. He had huge upper body strength, muscled arms swinging round to pick up a piece of metal. He had come to my father asking for work, work of any kind.
With colonisation a huge number of tea estates were cultivated in northern Uganda and numerous trucks, tractors and factory machinery were introduced to the region, which all required upkeep. Discovering that Kakanyero had been involved in forging scrap metal into essential tools for daily life, agriculture, hunting and defence - pangas, spears, axes etc. - my father put him charge of the forge - although apart from occasional help with heavier objects he was really the sole worker. My father found him a small native hut close by to the forge in respect of his disability.
The forge was a simple wooden structure with a corrugated roof and a beaten earth floor covered with a plethora of discarded metal. A shallow pit was dug directly into the earth floor next to which were two hollowed logs capped with goatskin and two long, thin wooden rods attached to the skins. But most important, Kakanyero told us, was the fire stick. A great talent was required to use the fire stick. No fire stick , no fire, no working forge, no tools or tractors mended. For a fire stick to actually create a glowing ember instead of just smoke, there is a hidden trick. Kakanyero showed us a tiny, vertical V-shaped notch in the side of the shallow dip. Without the notch, the hot wood dust gets trapped under the spinning stick and gets smothered. He must have made hundreds of fire sticks in his time, this being just one of them.
Operating a fire stick successfully requires incredible physical stamina and hard, calloused hands. He held the stick directly between his open palms, pointing it into the conical hole in the length of wood and spun it very fast, his hands travelling, up and down the stick in a fluid, continuous motion—never letting the stick stop rotating. If he stopped spinning to move his hands back to the top of the stick, the wood would cool down instantly, and he would have to start over. Once that little black pile started smoking heavily he would stop spinning, carefully lift the fire stick and gently blow that glowing dust pile into a flame! Magic! Before he started using the fire stick he had already prepared a small bundle made from shredded dry banana fibres, bone-dry savanna grass, or crushed tree bark. He shaped it into a loose ball that looked like a bird's nest. He used a flat piece of bark as a tiny shovel to slide the glowing pile of dust directly into the centre of his tinder bundle, wrapping it round the glowing ember. Then with long steady, gentle breaths he blew into it and...quite suddenly it blew into flames!🔥 - more magic!He placed the gently flaming nest over a layer of very small, crushed bits of charcoal and dry twigs in the floor level forge pit. Sitting cross-legged before his bellows he began to pump the long thin swivel handles very gently, creating a soft, rhythmic puff of air which fed the flames and forced the heat downward into the tiny charcoal pieces. Then he gently piled larger, thumb-sized pieces of hardwood charcoal over the top, creating a mound. Next he increased the speed of the swivelling bellows handle. The continuous blast of air raised the temperature of the charcoal until it was hot enough for the forging iron.
But always the magic of the fire stick was my favourite part. I can't tell you how many early morning visits over the years I made with my father to watch this miracle. Having been forbidden to take matches after we children set a tree on fire while trying to roast our mealie cobs it was to Kakanyero we would go. He roasted our cobs in the dying embers of his forge and told us stories of his earlier life.
He may have had lifeless feeble legs but
his hands were his life force and he was always laughing. He absolutely
rejected my father's offer of matches and performed his magic fire trick every
working morning. In the almost seventy years since, no one in the family has
ever managed the tiniest whiff of smoke, dust and certainly no sparks on
Kakanyero's firestick.
Jackie's story
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Talk about an object dear to yourself
I have moved house a lot in my life. Many countries, long distances and changed schools, cultures and different social ties. Something, though, that has travelled everywhere with me and has been of great comfort through thick and thin is my “Chaffinch”
How that he came to me is un explanatory and where he came from – well I hate that I cannot remember except vague visions of Xmas morning with him wrapped up and the best thing about him apart from his name is that he is useful because he is a pyjamas case dog.
As a little girl perhaps young as 6 he sat on my pillow protecting and keeping my pyjamas safe from any sort of danger that a stuffed dog keeping pyjamas in his tummy could come across. A smile was always on his face long fluffy ears not to be confused with a rabbit (God forbid) and black button nose which stayed solidly on his head even with chewing – his tummy shut with press studs which opened onto a pretty pink flowered lining .
I have loved him, kissed him, snuffled my flue germs on him and even been sick over him, cuddled him to death and stowed away precious secrets in his belly. He has remained faithful to this day. Of course he has had a few life accidents; left for a week in the washing machine, being dragged into the mud – left out in the rain, lost in a train, mauled by various puppies …left for months in a suitcase but always surrounded by teddy and other stuffed friends.
We have aged together from a fully brown coat of silky fur to a now faded beige with scratchy bald patches but to me he is just as beautiful and comforting as before.
He sits above my bed to this day 70 years later bringing comfort and happy memories. `
