Mu'Buzi Ok'ago De'hele lived two-hundred-thousand years ago in what is now known as Ethiopia. His friends called him Buzi and so will we. Buzi was an average teenage boy growing up in a semi-nomadic tribe of hunters and gatherers. Every morning, the Sun God would bestow upon the tribe another blistering day where the men would go out in search of game while the women stayed at home giving an initial pass at what would come to be classified as civilization.
Our story begins with Buzi having recently been granted permission to join his father and fellow tribesman on hunts – a great honor! He was over-the-Moon God and could not wait to see firsthand what went into the tracking and killing of the magnificent, almost mythical, beasts that enriched and sustained life for his people. Amazing creatures we would recognize as ibex, impala, and gazelle roamed the nearby grasslands in their own attempts at prehistoric existence. Their own attempts at survival.
From the time Buzi was a young boy, he had trained with a long wooden stick (unsharpened, of course) mimicking the jabbing, thrusting and throwing that his elders used to take down these agile animals of the savanna. He had shown promise, and on the morning of his first hunt, a sharpened spear was presented to the newly-minted hunter. A tear crested in the corner of his eye, but it was quickly wiped away to avoid appearing weak, or worse, unworthy. To no one's surprise, emotions were very much misunderstood two-hundred-thousand years ago, feared even (though not much has changed since). And with his feelings discarded, he caught up with the others en route to the hunt.
The party made their way down the hillside on which their encampment was currently situated. Overlooking a vast plain, their semi-settlement was able to track incoming storms and migrating herds. The Sun God was a generous one, and today only the latter was in sight. Wildebeest, the men believed! Buzi traveled next to his father on the trek down the hill, observing the other members of the group. A mostly-nude primitive band, the hunters ranged from green teens to elder statesmen pushing thirty.
In an effort to pass along knowledge, father-son pairings like Buzi's were prevalent among the clan. A few fortunate family units were lucky enough to have grandfather-father-son trios, and assembled themselves accordingly. Some unfortunate men, on the other hand, were on their own. By arranging into these groupings, the party was able to evenly disperse skill and experience. Our first-timer looked from grouping to grouping absorbing all he could.
Having known each of the boys his age since birth, Buzi was aware which of his friends had what it took to be proficient hunters, and which didn't. He knew who was mentally and physically quick, and who wasn't. With this, he also understood that all the training in the World God could not completely level out the playing field. And as he surveyed the party, a new, overwhelming pressure to out-perform his peers accompanied his thoughts. Buzi felt this strange as he was confident in his abilities. Plus, he was asked to join the hunt because his elders knew he could help. And most importantly, Buzi knew their overall success was the tribe's success. So why did he feel this competitive sense creeping in? Emotions were tough, after all. He pushed the feeling away. He stayed tight to his dad.
