Munyiga

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  Munyiga. Roughly translated, it means "one who presses others." This was the name given to him by his slave peers, the name that he adopted for himself. He carries this name dearly, as his birth name was buried under tragedy and trauma. While he has forgotten his name, he will never forget how his life as a slave began.
  
  Ten winters. The hippo had grown and thrived through ten winters, and his father could not have been happier. To celebrate, his mother gave him a sweet bowl of mashed mangoes and bananas, while his father promised to take him on his first hunting trip. The little boy could hardly contain his excitement, hoping to find a big creature with horns to make a spear for himself. He had always admired his father's efforts to hunt and protect the village, aspiring to become as great a man as his father was.
  
  Unfortunately, the hunt would not come to pass. A warning shout cried above the harmony of the forest, followed by a loud, exploding noise! His father would hurry out to join the other warriors of the tribe, rushing to investigate the calamity. The little hippo clung to his mother's side while they stepped out to watch... Strange, foreign men and women stepped out of the forest and into the village, smelling of fish and smoke. Many of them were beast-folk that none of the villagers had ever encountered, while their leader was a human wearing the clothes of a Spanish pirate.
  
  The foreigners began raiding the village, stealing anything of value that they could, wrecking all of their huts, and capturing many of the villagers alive. The little hippo could only watch while his father was gunned down by a flintlock pistol, joining the other warriors in death with a flash and a bang... The foreign men shouted and cursed at the little hippo and his mother, but they could not understand a word spoken. They did, however, understand violence, and when it was made clear they could expect much pain and suffering if they didn't obey, they were forced aboard the pirate ship as cargo.
  
  The hippo's time with his mother was short. She was traded away to a merchant ship as a slave in exchange for coin with the pirates. The hippo could hear her calling out to him, telling him to be brave. He could hear her, and her voice never left him until the ships were distanced. From then on, even while he was forced to stay in cramped conditions next to others from his village and others he'd never seen... Even then he felt alone.
  
  Time passed, and while the voyage was shorter than the pirates had expected, the hippo experienced it as an eternity. It was unnerving returning to land for the first time in a while, but he wasn't given the chance to adjust just yet. A wealthy maiden by the name of Ysabel Cãrdoba purchased the little hippo boy in an auction, as well as several others from the ship. She would be his first owner, as well as the one to own him the longest throughout his life as a slave.
  
  For the first four years that he served under her, he was simply a house servant. Cleaning rooms, sweeping floors, even entertaining her as if he was a puppy for her to send dashing about and back. The hippo boy thought she pitied him at times, giving him scraps to eat and playing with him. It was only when she began degrading him by leashing him up and parading him about as an example to others did he know there was no ounce of sympathy to find in her black heart.
  
  When he showed the first signs of capable resistance, he was sent to work in the fields along with the other slaves. Men and women of different species, races, and creeds tended to the crops... For two years, the little hippo boy weathered harsh sun and chilling wind alike, surviving the meager conditions of a slave even while other, healthier slaves perished. By the time he had come to sixteen years of age, he began showing the promise and power of his race. He also grew curious, yearning for knowledge. In exchange for secretly helping other slaves with their tasks, they would teach him what they knew of Common language and tradition. He helped share the burden of other slaves, able to carry their workload and more. A few of Lady Cãrdoba's started to notice that some of her chattel weren't working as much. She was absolutely livid when she saw that it was the hippo boy, now a young man, who was easing the suffering of the others. However, she saw this as a marvelous opportunity...
  
  The hippo was tested, given a large cart to pull. He was pitted against a group of four horsemen with their own cart to tow. The goal was to gather as many haycocks they could harvest and transport them to the designated tarpaulin. They could only transport hay using the cart, and any bales that fell out would count against them. The one who gathered the most bales before the sky was orange would win, and the hippo was promised freedom if he was victorious. However, the contest was stacked against him to prevent him from winning, as Ysabel ordered that the cart he would tow be tampered with before the competition began. She wanted to see the extent of his strength, and at the same time, she wanted to humiliate and punish the hippo. Not only would work harder for her, but he would be punished with many lashes across his back at the end of the day!
  
  The contest began, and while the horsemen were quicker to move, the hippo utilized his own natural stamina and strength. Able to roll up large bales and haul them easily into his wagon, he was able to match the same pace as his opponents'. Hours passed, and a plethora of Ysabel's slaves gathered to watch. While some of the handlers punished them with a strike of the whip, others would allow a gathering to see how their brother would fail. The hippo was stacking bales up into his cart with ease, working as hard as he could to surpass the horsemen... This was when Ysabel's foul handiwork would come into play, as a loud crunch would snap forth from the wagon's wheel and send the cart tumbling into the ground.
  
  Trying to deal with this set back, the hippo would try to pull the cart forward. However, despite his best efforts to move onwards, he couldn't possibly catch up to the horsemen at this point. With the hippo unable to move his cart, the horsemen delivered one more load to the tarpaulin, with four more stacks than the hippo. They whinnied and neighed, cheering for themselves while the hippo was left behind to tug and yank as best as he could... But the hippo would not give up. Gathering two more bales for his cart, the slaves and handlers thought him foolish to work with an even heavier load! However, the hippo wasn't going to bother towing the cart with him...
  
  The onlookers stared, many with mouths agape as they watched him lift the back ned up just barely. His body trembled and his muscles flexed desperately as he couldn't heft it any higher. Leaning his enormous, heavy frame forward, the hippo began to press the cart onward in an effort to force it the rest of the way to the tarpaulin! Some of the slaves he was transported with began to chant, and soon the chant was spread to the others, until it was a wild cry! Over and over and over again, the slaves began to chant: "Munyiga! Munyiga!" Further and further did he press onward, the horsemen grew aware as the slaves began to chant, hurrying back to their cart and trying to rush back to gather more hay. Further still, the hippo man would force his way ahead while a growing mound of dirt began to slow him down in front of the cart, yet still the heavy hippo carried on.
  
  The sky was orange. The horsemen were tired, falling over themselves as they had pushed their efforts too far. The hippo man finally unloaded his stock of hay, putting him a bale ahead of the horsemen. The hippo man, would step out into the field and raise his hands up, bellowing in a triumphant voice to his enslaved kindred; "MUNYIGA!" A roar of cheers would follow as the slaves bounced on their feet and shook their hands in the air, calling out to the powerful young man.
  Some of the handlers began to look uncomfortable, noticing just how many slaves outnumbered them. A few even began to grasp for their pistols in case things got out of hand..
  
  The celebration would not last long. Madame Cãrdoba herself stormed out into the field and yanked a whip from one of the handlers. Her eyes carried a furious fire that would not be doused until she saw the hippo man humbled and brought to his knees. He didn't notice her rushing from behind, as she brought the whip snapping against his back. He staggers forward, screaming in pain from the agonizing lash. She drew forth another snap of the whip, striking acros shis back over and over again. He fell forward, bracing himself with his arms while kneeling down in his anguish... Through watered eyes he stared up as none of the slaves who had cheered for him would help him. None of the slaves he had helped would come forward for him. He cried and screamed, enduring blow after blow until the pain hit its summit. He would black out afterwards.
  
  Munyiga was not freed. His suffering only grew as he was monitored by handlers every day, forcing him to work harder. Now that Ysabel was aware of the extent of his strength, she was both satisfied and paranoid. She was able to work him harder than ever, giving him a workload that would've suited multiple slaves instead of one. However, she would never allow him to work without supervision. She even supplied more firearms to the handlers in case of rebellion, despite the cost of maintenance and training... Fortunately she profited from Munyiga's efforts, forcing him to tow carts and till acres of her land. By nightfall, he was forced into a solitary pen where he was chained up, and on many occasions Ysabel would visit him at night to torture him with a whip. She both mocked him and struck him harshly. His barebones knowledge of Commonspeak only made things worse as he could understand her horrible taunts that punctuated every lash of the whip.
  
  Despite Munyiga's harsh treatment, his actions had an impact over the years. Ysabel's paranoia was not unfounded, as more accidents began to occur on the farm. The handlers had to whip the slaves more as resistance grew. The pistols the handlers wielded were all that were preventing a rebellion. On a day dark than most, as clouds covered the skies, Ysabel watched as Munyiga toiled away at the crops. A lion slave of only fourteen years of age cried with pain. He claimed that his ankle was broken and that he was unable to move. A pair of handlers would pull him to his feet in an effort to drag him back to the pens so that way a doctor could examine him. However, after they got close enough, the boy grasped for one of their pistols, aiming it at the handlers. His grasp was shaky, but both of the handlers wouldn't risk anything with sudden movement. None of them had to use their firearms before! However, they were fortunate that the boy was far too scared to use it... Eventually he surrendered willingly and gave back their gun... Ysabel marched up with rage to the handlers, screaming foul words and belittling them both. Whether it was her usual wicked heart or her new paranoid tendencies that brought forth her wrath, she would grab for the gun the boy stole.
  
  A shot rang over the fields, many of the slaves dropped down to their knees and covered their ears. They thought a bolt of lightning had struck from the dark clouds above. The lion boy fell to the ground, bleeding from his head.
  
  The rain fell harder than it ever had before over the roof of the slave pens.
  
  It had been four years since Munyiga had proven his might to Ysabel. He was twenty years old now. He reminded himself of this as he lay chained up against the wall, hungry and tired. It had been a week since the boy was shot. The boy was only fourteen years old... His stomach growled. He had not been fed dinner yet... It was quiet outside, quieter than usual.
  
  The silence was abruptly broken as a shot rang out through the air, muffled by the walls of Munyiga's pen. He slowly glanced up as the angry cries of men rose up. A rebellion finally started,. The zenith of cruelty that Ysabel exercised was inexcusable, forcing the slaves to take action against their oppressive owner. Her house was raided, the handlers were struck down, and a fire would glow bright over her ruined home. Munyiga was left unaware in his pen as the revolution carried out... But he would get an idea of what was taking place as soon as an exhausted Ysabel would slam his pen door shut, locking it while the slaves were ruining her farm.
  
  Her dress was in tatters, her form was covered in patches of dirt and mud, and she was left gasping for air as she remained locked up in his pen. She nervously carried a pistol at her side, shakily holding it up at the hippo. She demanded that he helped her escape, or else she would kill him. She was desperate, unable to to escape unless she had help. She could use Munyiga as a shield, then kill him and make her escape! She still had assets saved away for emergencies, she could always rebuild her empire. As long as she held the weapon, she was in control. She could survive, she could make it out of this nightmare. She'd use her hairpin to undo the lock of his cuffs-
  
  The moment she unbound Munyiga's left cuff, he'd grabbed her wrist and crushed it in his enormous paw, forcing her to drop the gun. He yanked her closer, pressing her up against his massive front while squeezing his thick arm around her throat. A disturbing crunch escaped her neck as her windpipe was crushed and her throat snapped... His stomach growled louder still, and in his hand he held a murdering mistress with no ounce of kindness or tolerance in her heart. He began to tear off her clothes...
  
  Half an hour later, a group of slaves broke down the door to the pen he was trapped in. Freeing him from his iron bonds, they escorted Munyiga off of the farmland, leaving behind many of their dead brothers and sisters. Only twenty remained, counting the hippo. Ysabel was nowhere to be found.