Chapter 131: Taking Kayanza
Kayanza lies in the northwestern part of Burundi.
The capital of the Kingdom of Burundi is in Gitega, situated at the kingdom's geographic center—in the heart of the central highlands (present-day Burundi).
During peacetime, with Gitega as the national hub, Burundi's central government was able to project its influence more effectively across surrounding areas. But when massive waves of Eastern Bantu poured in from the south, Gitega, which lacked natural defenses, became highly vulnerable.
If only small-scale attacks had come, the Kingdom of Burundi might have managed; however, the Eastern Bantu were millions of natives driven from across the East African colony into this narrow corridor in the northwest. Even if they'd just stood there doing nothing, mowing them down with machine guns would have taken half a day, let alone with Burundi's relatively primitive iron weaponry.
Hence, when Burundi's central government was overrun by Eastern Bantu forces and its attempts at resistance proved futile, they fled northwest.
Kayanza, around sixty kilometers from Gitega, has relatively rugged terrain better suited for defense, so it became the kingdom's temporary capital.
But the Kingdom of Burundi, having joined forces with other states to defeat the Eastern Bantu, was still regrouping when the overwhelming German (East African) forces arrived.
To defend against the Eastern Bantu, Burundi had erected extensive fortifications around Kayanza and temporarily relocated large numbers of people there. This is one of the reasons why southern Burundi had such a sparse population. Without a critical mass, they could never have resisted the flood of Eastern Bantu tribes, so many nobles clung to the central government in this stronghold.
All told, northwestern Burundi's terrain and rainfall conditions are more or less the same, so numerous Burundian nobles, along with their supplies and subjects, migrated to Kayanza. Kayanza lived up to their hopes by thwarting the Eastern Bantu's onslaught, thus preserving the kingdom's remaining strength.
…
"Up ahead is Kayanza, the temporary capital of Burundi. We estimate at least fifteen thousand people in the city; it's likely the hardest nut to crack in all of Burundi," Larry Antonio reported to Yarman, describing Kayanza's situation.
Yarman peered through his binoculars, studying Kayanza's defenses.
As a city that had been hastily expanded, Kayanza's construction was quite crude. Its walls used many irregular stones, nowhere near as orderly as Gitega (already in East African hands).
Much of Gitega's stonework had been shaped with some care; the city appeared more structured, though no longer prosperous after being plundered by the Eastern Bantu. Later, when the East African colony counted the people left in Gitega, they found only twenty-three survivors.
Kayanza, in contrast, has a noticeably larger swath of farmland visible from higher ground. Surrounding the city are many makeshift shacks for the poor, suggesting its population is indeed much higher.
Apart from stone, Kayanza's fortifications make heavy use of rammed earth and wooden boards. Its walls stand about two meters high, and the city is roughly twice the size of Gitega, which had been built up over many years.
"Looks like we need more manpower. With just our small force, handling so many natives will be tricky. If they scatter, we won't know which direction to seal first," Yarman remarked.
Fewer than five hundred East African soldiers were stationed before Kayanza, enough perhaps to block one route. But if they wanted to drive the natives north, they'd need to block the east and west sides as well.
"So, Larry Antonio, go request six hundred more men from the other forces on our eastern and western flanks, in my name," Yarman ordered.
"Yes, sir!" Larry Antonio replied.
The total East African force deployed was only a bit over ten thousand, while the front stretched nearly four hundred kilometers, meaning each ten-kilometer sector could muster just two or three hundred men.
Certainly, some fugitives would slip through the colony's long single-file line, but the government already had follow-up plans in place. Once new immigrants arrived, they would sweep through the occupied areas again.
Yet Kayanza, as a major Burundian city, was worth diverting troops to. In Africa, a city with a population of over ten thousand is quite uncommon—definitely second-tier or higher.
…
Once enough men had gathered, Yarman prepared to storm the city.
Burundian soldiers on Kayanza's walls watched Yarman's army warily. Because of the earlier Eastern Bantu invasion, Burundi's external communications had collapsed, so the central government only learned of the East African incursion once the colony's forces were already there.
But the Burundians knew nothing of the East African colony's true strength. These foreigners' skin was remarkably fair, and they wore brightly colored clothes.
They did resemble Arabs in some ways, but Burundi's nobles knew Arab attire well, and this group's dress was clearly different. As for European explorers, they were rarities—only a few western nobles had ever seen them at all, and Burundi's higher-ups were among that tiny number. (Some of these explorers, along with the earliest East African colonial scouts, had visited local chiefs and kings to survey the land.)
…
"Uru, what do you think those strange folks are doing?" Mopu asked, peering over the wall at the Germans digging small fortifications in the distance.
Even though entrenchment was almost unnecessary for the East Africans—Burundian bows and javelins couldn't effectively reach them if they stayed back from the wall—they still dug in, presumably as a precaution.
"I think they're in league with those southern barbarians (Eastern Bantu). They can't be good. We just defeated the southern tribes, and now these people show up. They're obviously not coming in peace," Uru replied.
"But they clearly don't look like the southern barbarians! Their fabric is so fine. The southern barbarians were dirt-poor and tried to take everything from us, whereas these people are obviously far richer than we are. Back home, only a chief could afford such cloth; but out there, every single one is dressed like that. They must be loaded," Mopu said, gesturing to the East Africans with their two sets of Prussian-style uniforms each.
"All I know is that the high priest Abra said they're bad news, especially that firestick that looks so harmless—he says it's imbued with magic, so when it booms, it sucks your soul out. Stay away from the walls if you don't want your soul taken," Uru warned him.
"I don't believe that. Our tribe's Yaha priest gave us sacred water to drink. He told me if we see them charge, we simply shoot our arrows, and they can't lay a finger on us." Mopu boasted.
It was as if the two men were comparing their priests' powers. Clearly, Mopu's priest was the more impressive—his magic could supposedly break the Germans' spell and fight back—making Mopu look good in front of his new friend.
Uru and Mopu belonged to different Burundian tribes. They'd both been brought to Kayanza by their chiefs during the Eastern Bantu invasion, so the two men ended up stationed near the same section of the wall and became acquainted.
"I think those people have been cursed by our kingdom's priests, which is why they're too scared to attack. It's been two days now, and they haven't advanced. Instead, they're just digging holes! Maybe the curse has driven them insane, what do you think, Uru?" Mopu guessed.
"All I know is that we're lucky it hasn't rained. Otherwise, those muddy pits they're digging would be swimming pools," Uru muttered, leaning lazily against the wall with a straw in his mouth.
"Look! What's that, Uru?" Mopu suddenly exclaimed.
"What do you mean?" Uru yawned, stood, and turned to see what Mopu was pointing at.
Many sharp-eyed natives noticed movements in the East African lines. For two days, the locals had been watching with curiosity, but their leaders had forbidden any sortie, so they merely observed the East Africans. Aside from digging, the attackers had done little so far.
Today, however, they wheeled out something brand-new that the natives had never seen before—some large, dark object being moved into the open ground in front of the East African encampment. A black cylinder with an opening about as wide as a bowl, flanked by circular frames like two suns…
…
"Lauder, are you sure you can hit the target? We've only got three shells. Don't waste them," Yarman said.
"Don't worry, Yarman. I used to be an artilleryman; this was my bread and butter. And besides, the enemy can't interfere with us at all—plenty of time to calibrate. Just watch me blow that gate off," Lauder replied.
Mopu's strange new object was a cannon that had just arrived in East Africa this month—Yarman had requested a single piece from the colonial arsenal.
Since the natives' bows were no joke, especially behind those walls, Yarman worried that mere rifles might not cut it. True, he could have built a massive wooden siege shield out of local timber, rolled it up to the wall, and planted explosives—but he wanted to have some fun with the cannon, so he applied for one. The government approved exactly one piece.
"All right, I'm lined up. One shot, and I guarantee we'll show those natives real shock and awe," Lauder said.
"Everyone, get ready and cover your ears. We're about to fire!" Yarman yelled to his men.
Once everyone was set, Yarman drew his saber and pointed toward Kayanza's gate, shouting: "Ready…!"
…
On the wall, Uru said to Mopu, "Look, the guy next to that black thing is pointing his knife at us."
"He must be their priest. Can he cast spells from that distance?" Mopu wondered.
…
"Fire," Yarman commanded.
All the East Africans clapped hands over ears as Lauder lit the fuse.
Boom…
All Uru and Mopu heard was that black contraption roaring violently, spitting white flame from its mouth.
Crash…
The city of Kayanza shuddered. Its previously intact gate, along with surrounding stone, was blasted open, half collapsing, burying the hapless guards atop it.
"The wrath of the gods—Heaven is angry!"
Frightened natives yelled and scampered in chaos. Uru and Mopu, standing close to the gate, survived but were left with ears ringing. They felt utterly stunned. After a moment, they snapped out of it, too terrified to speak, and dropped to the ground begging forgiveness from heaven.
Meanwhile, the East African army climbed out of their trench, charging toward the breached wall, rifles aimed at any natives still on the ramparts.
Bang… bang… bang…
Those scattered shots snapped other natives out of their daze. They broke into a wild panic, sprinting off the wall through the passages, all bottlenecking in a frenzied attempt to flee. Soldiers yelled, "Demons are coming! The gods have sent devils to punish the Kingdom of Burundi—run for your lives!"
The streets descended into chaos. Civilians, who'd already been living in fear for months, reached their breaking point. With the army collapsing, they knew it had to be something catastrophic.
Some who'd seen the danger coming had long since packed and were ready to run. Rumors and terror engulfed the entire city as everyone fled northward.
Hearing that massive thunder at the "temporary palace," the king and nobles sensed immediate doom. As soon as the East African gunfire and civilians' cries echoed across the city, they bolted without a second thought.
The top brass of Burundi had at least heard rumors of firearms—courtesy of contact with Arab slave traders—so they had no illusions that valor alone would beat gunpowder.
Thus, seasoned by their last exodus, the people of Kayanza—king, nobles, chiefs, priests, peasants, slaves—again took flight, just as when the Eastern Bantu invaded. This time, however, no tide of Bantu behind them, only the intermittent crack of guns.
To these fearful natives steeped in superstition, the "demon" of East Africa was a hundred times more terrifying than the Eastern Bantu, especially since their priests had described the enemy's firearms as soul-devouring.
Everyone (other than a few nobles) believed utterly in that explanation. The deafening blast must be the cry of devils. If they were captured, they'd be doomed forever.
Kayanza was swept by mayhem. Stampedes and looting broke out everywhere, yet no one cared. All that mattered was racing north, toward Rwanda. Had they grown a second pair of legs, they would have used them to get away from this cursed land all the faster.
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