Last night our other older sister Cario came home. We met her two weeks ago as well, but she only stayed for a day before she went to finish her term at school. Last night after dinner Eliza and I got our first real chance to talk to her. I cannot remember the exact conversation that lead to the odd topic, but for one reason or another I found myself asking Agnes about cannibalism. One of my first weeks here as I washed dishes with Imachulet she told me about the cannibals that lived in Uganda. Then last week Courtney said that she saw a story on the news about how the Ugandan police arrested around twenty cannibals, but she could not remember where they lived. I asked Agnes if she knew where the cannibals were.
“They live in (insert name of town that starts with a K) in Rakai, “I heard the story. They ate a women and her baby. The man escaped by climbing into a tree,” Agnes said. “In Rakai?” Eliza asked in disbelief. “Yes, in Rakai.” Agnes and Cario both said together. Eliza with her mouth open like a cod-fish. Rakai distrect situates itself next to Lyantonde district, and the town were most of the cannibals live boarders Lyantonde district. Eliza drove through there twice last week. A family of cannibals are also rumoured to live in Kaliiro, a town an hour or two walk from were we live (aka close). It turns out, that not only do they live in Rakai, but because so many lived in Rakai the ones that did not moved there, so Rakai, and that one town specifically became the cannibalism capital of Uganda.
Over the next half hour Cario and Imachulet divulged information about the “night eaters.” These people “hunt” naked at night, hidden by the darkness. If they see someone coming they can “make themselves like pigs, and you cannot see them. If they want you they grab you and eat you.” They usually eat the dead though. They go at night and have machines that dredge the body from the grave, and then they consume that. They also only usually hunt at night. I made sure to ask if that was the case. “They never eat their family though,”Cario said. “When one member of the families dies they do not eat them. They trade another family. So they say, ‘here you have this and you give us one later.’ They can eat their clan, but not family.” “So it’s not like the people are being punished and eaten, or that it is part of a ritual when someone dies?” Eliza and I asked (we had been talking about funerals before this because Agnes had to cater a burial and when Courtney told us about the cannibals Eliza wondered why they ate people. I remembered this and asked). “No,” Cario said. “They just eat you.” Imachulet replied.
“How do they not get sick?” Eliza asked. “They start young giving their kids medicine. They then introduce the meat into their diet.” This medicine that they give the children builds up their immunity to the meat. “Even me,” Cario continued, “Can be made into one. If I see them, and they see me see them I can either go join them, and they give me the medicine so I can eat, or they kill me.”
“Do the kids go to school?” I asked. “Yeah they go. Some even go to boarding school.” Imachulet said. “They have problems with them though,” Cario said. “Once they get the taste for meat they crave it. They sometimes are found cutting their classmates, cutting their hair and eating it…” “They drink the blood of them sometimes,” Imachulet said. “And they have to expel them sometimes if it gets bad.” Cario finished.
“Really?” Eliza asked in a state of disbelief. “Yeah!” Cario said. By this point we all were laughing that uncomfortable laught that happens when reality suspends itself, and you are faced with the impossible and improbable being real. “We talked about this earlier,” Imachulet said between giggles. “Did you not believe me?” “No I did!” I said. “It is just so crazy to me!”
“Are you scared of them?” Eliza asked. “Yeah we are scared!” Cario said, exposing the whole white of her eye in the process. “But there is a medicine you can take, so that even in death you can refuse, so when you die your corpse,” she crossed her arms across her chest, “even your corps it can refuse to be eaten. Even if they pull you out of the ground, if I took the medicine this corpse it can refuse. They cannot eat you.” “I would take that,” I said, “I don’t want to be eaten.” Cario laughed.
“Eh, but you also have to worry about child sacrifice. There are people that they sacrifice the child and put the head on the ground when building a house so that they can have good luck.” Imachulet said. Ironically earlier that day I read a bit about child sacrifice in a paper. I found it interesting to hear about it from my family. “They (the gods) especially like private parts.” Cario said. “But you cannot be happy.” Imachulet continued. “If you sacrifice you can be rich, but never happy. Especially if you sacrifice a girl. Her spirit will haunt you, and at night she will come to you and say, ‘Get up, go work. Go work. You sacrificed me to get riches, you should be working. Do not sleep, go work to get rich.’ So you can be rich, but not happy.” “And once you sacrifice you have to keep going.” Cario added. “Once the gods you sacrificed to get a taste for blood they want some every two months or so, so you have to keep sacrificing or they will take away all your riches. But, you have to be whole. Chief is circumcised, so he cannot be sacrificed. Me I have my ears pierced,” She put her finger behind her ear lobe, “so I cannot be sacrificed. Many parents in fact pierce child’s ears so they cannot be used in sacrifice by those people.” “Even the boys?” Eliza asked. “Yes,” Carios eyes widened, “even the boys. But only one ear. So if you see some boys they have one pierced. You have to look for it though.” The next day (today as I write this) when Eliza and I told the rest of the mzungu about this Courtney said, “Hu, interesting. Evan (long a like pasta for Americans), Vanessa, and Vicki (the three small girls she lives with), both have one of their ears pierced, but never wear an earing.” It’s probably so they won’t be sacrificed.
The conversation fascinated me. I did not want to think that something that would still happen in attempts to rise above the stereotypes of the ‘savage’ African, but all these stories were verified by Eliza later that night. She found multiple academic papers that night that verified everything Cario and Imachulet told us about the “night eaters.” Apparently in recent years their numbers have increased, and no one knows why. You can bet I will not go to Rakai any time soon.
