Culture: In the world of rainmakers

Rainmaking has been a topic of contention for a long time. Whereas some people claim to have powers to make and stop rain, others refute the claims. Benedict Okethwengu sought out a rainmaker and he narrates his experience

 

Is it feasible that mankind can alter weather patterns? Desperate to know the truth about the art of rainmaking, I set out to investigate the claims. My first appointment with a rainmaker through a royal of Padel chiefdom hit a snag. With no idea of whom else to contact, I chanced upon John Owachgiu, 67, a resident of Nebbi town. He directed me to Ocego chiefdom, which is revered for rainmaking. 

The seat of Ocego chiefdom is located 2km outside the town, on the Nebbi-Arua Road in Thatha village. At the palace, my anticipation of a warm welcome was quickly doused by a couple of sombre-looking men sitting on the ground in a cycle. They greeted me with a degree of restraint. A green bottle filled with nguli, a local brew rested in the centre.

 

All the men, I later learnt, were friends of Thomas Oweki, alias Musoke, 42, the rainmaker — the man I was looking for. They wanted to know what had taken me to the palace. With a look of suspicion on their faces, I quickly introduced myself. The old man had warned me that making any silly mistake in the palace would cost me not less than a goat, so I humbled myself.

 

When I mentioned the person I was looking for, all the six men shouted in chorus: “Musoke, they are looking for you!”

In a flash, Musoke, dressed in a worn-out brown T-shirt with brown trousers dashed and came straight to me.

 

“Young man, what brings you here?” Musoke asked. My attempt to answer the first question was interrupted by cheers from other men who seemed to be enjoying the drill, a clear indication that the man was a village hero. 

 

Musoke first left me in suspense after I introduced myself and went about doing his business. He was sharpening a hoe; ready for the evening cultivation. The boda boda man who took me to the palace was beginning to feel uneasy. Waves of fear, anger and frustration almost engulfed me.

“All my activities are centred around farming, so that is why I was giving preference to the hoe, otherwise you are most welcome,” Musoke finally told me. 

 

As I explained the purpose of my visit, one of the men in the compound, probably impatient with our dilly-dallying, interjected: “He is the right man! Musoke is well known for making and stopping rain in the whole of Nebbi.”

 

His statement is later corroborated in a separate interview with Albert Ocungi, 37, a watchman with CEFORD Nebbi. 

“Musoke is the one used in the chiefdom to make rain during drought. He is also usually hired at big functions to stop rain.”

But sensing that his friends had taken one too many, Musoke took me aside to tell me the magic of rainmaking. 

 

I wanted to know the circumstances under which the rainmakers’ services can be sought, the requirements for rainmaking and whether the rain is really at their mercy. 

 

Musoke, however, told me I had to first report to the chief, whom he said he was working for. 

We walked about 20 metres to see William Opar, the chief of the Ocego chiefdom. We found him relaxing on his royal stool surrounded by teenage girls who, I presumed, were his daughters. He dismissed the young ladies as soon as we took our seats. 

 

As tradition demands, Musoke introduced me to the chief and told him why I was there. The chief approved my visit.

“Because you are a journalist, I can allow him (Musoke) to talk to you. I know you are not here to get our tricks,” Opar said. 

 

“However, before you go to see how rain is made, please let them give you some medicine. If you go into the process without undergoing any ritual, you will turn brown,” he added. I nod in approval.

Musoke explained to me his involvement in rainmaking. He was born to Justino Opyem of Thatha village, Nebbi Town Council. He was named Musoke by his father because he was the tallest in the family. He intimated to me that rainmaking is hereditary and the power is given by the gods.

 

He inherited it from his late father in 1999. His father also inherited the skill from his father.  “The power of rainmaking will follow through all our generation because it is something of the spirit that started a long time ago,” he said, adding that out of 10 siblings in his family, the gods chose him because of his brilliance and the love his father had for him.

Musoke gave me a fresh blade of grass (locally known as lengakoth) to chew. The blade was brought by his messenger, who is also his elder brother. Musoke then revealed that it was mandatory for anyone who wanted to witness the process of rainmaking to chew lengakoth. Failure to chew the leaf would bring a bad omen — the person can either turn brown or lose their eyesight.

 

Desperate to accomplish my job, I bit the grass and struggled to chew it. Its bitter taste is worse than Chloroquine tablets. 

After every bite, Musoke called out names of mountains. His brothers also chewed the grass as they accompaned us into the bush.

We set off to a thicket, about 15 metres from his house, an area surrounded by a maize plantation.Musoke has two pots in his shrine, in which he keeps five shiny dark-brown stones with holes in the middle. 

 

The stones are called kidi koth. He says the stones are gods responsible for making rain. One of the five stones is a female named Nyaruyelo, a name he says was given to it by Odhole, a spirit found in the lake. Nyaruyelo is the rain.

 

Nyaruyelo is guarded by another stone called Ogul (the soldier), Lei (axe) and Judongo (elders). Near them, a black polythene bag contains stones called Jasumba, which he claims are responsible for causing hailstorm and were brought by other rainmakers.

 

The water and mud is put into a pot to ‘cool’ the kidikoth. After that, Musoke goes to a sacred place called Alesuka to perform the ritual. He takes roasted and ground seed of shea nut butter for the Nyaruyelo stone. He takes along millet bread and a piece of Nile Perch to give to the gods. 

 

When the food is ready, he ties it on a stick (Angolo) and shoots the arrow-like stick in four directions, while calling the names of famous mountains in the area.

 

“On each occasion of shooting, I hear a roaring sound, which nobody else, not even the chief, can hear,” Musoke boasts, adding that the sound is a clear indication that the gods have accepted the food. He says at that point, at least a drop of rain will fall.

 

The rainmaker is also trusted to stop rain in case it is not wanted. Musoke gets the opportunity to attend big ceremonies because of his alleged ability to stop rain. 

 

“One time, I was hired to stop rain during a music show of the Goodlyfe Crew at Rajja hall, in Nebbi Town. People come to me when there are big functions, and at times they have to part with sh10,000 to sh20,000. When there is too much rain, which is likely to destroy crops, the elders can ask me to intervene,” Musoke says. 

 

Musoke owns a spear, which he claims can stop rain. 

He further claims that he places the spear in the compound and the intending rain stops, even if it has already started.

He adds that there are some people who are ready to sabotage the rain patterns using the power of witchcraft.

 

“Some people can simply block the rain patterns to undermine the power of other kingdoms. This mostly happens when there is power struggle over chiefdoms,” he says, noting that if the elders found the villains, they are brought to the palace to pay heavy fines. 

 

However, though many believe in Musoke’s powers, others dispute it, arguing that there is no human being who can control rain patterns.

 

Ben Oley, the Nebbi district planner, says it is science that defines how rain can be formed. 

“Why can’t they make the rain only to fall on their gardens if they have the powers?” he asks.

 

As I prepare to leave, Musoke had one word for me: “My friend, you came to me in good faith and made me go through the process of rain making. I should have given you chicken, but that shall be for next time,” he said.

 

“I will escort you with rain as my appreciation, though people have been complaining that it has rained a lot.” 

As I returned to Nebbi town, a heavy downpour descended on the soil. Since it was not possible to set up a scientific experiment, we may never know whether he made the rain or it was by coincidence. 

During prolonged drought, the elders approach the chief seeking intervention for rain to fall. They bring foodstuffs, which are not easily perishable, like sim sim, white ants, shea nut butter, millet and sorghum as an acknowledgement of the chief’s importance. The chief then orders the rainmaker to go and save the people from drought.  

 

For Musoke to take the journey to the wilderness where he is supposed to perform the ritual, he has to meet certain obligations, including foregoing sexual intercourse for at least three days. This is because the process requires him to be ritually clean. There must also be fish, preferably Nile Perch, which, he said, is the best fish to sacrifice to the gods.

 

There must be water and mud from a stream, not fetched by a woman. The person who fetches the water must not look behind or talk to anyone when going or coming back from the stream. Anyone who disturbs the messenger who fetches water can be identified on Musoke’s orders and brought before the chief to pay a fine of at least one goat. Once he has performed the rituals, he returns home stealthily.  “I leave the bush like a thief. Nobody should see or talk to me,” he says.  In the past, the rain would start immediately he arrived home.

 

He is not supposed to have intimate relations with his wife or take a bath for three days after performing the ritual. The first day he takes a bath, it must be with cold water, not delivered by his wife or any other woman.

 

Additionally, his wife should not serve him food in those three days, otherwise she becomes barren. Musoke explains that traditionally, women are considered unclean, hence the strict rules. After the rituals, Musoke reveals, he falls sick for a month, and then serious rain patterns follow.