Tilcoloshe's Friend

Native bicycles in the back country of South Africa are often built with a little extra seat in the back in case Tikoloshe wants a ride, for in South Africa, what Tikoloshe wants, Tikoloshe gets. A tiny, hairy, deformed little spirit, half human, half animal, Tikoloshe conceives his mischief in the reeds by riverbanks. To look at him means instant death, yet no man can refuse his bidding. Murder, thievery and rape are all equally condoned by the Zulu natives if their perpetrator can prove to his neighbors that Tikoloshe forced him to the act. Even the white man's courts on occasion have found Tikoloshe's influence an extenuating factor in major crimes. Last week the South African government found itself facing an even trickier question: Could Tikoloshe snatch from his executioners a man condemned to death for 15 murders?

The man in question was a burly Zulu named Elifasi Msomi. A young witch doctor who was not doing very well at his trade, he went to another witch doctor for advice, and there, he said, he found Tikoloshe masquerading as the man's son. "You will go with this son of mine," said the elder doctor, "and get me the blood of 15 people to help my chemist shop. First I want the blood of a girl."

Gruesome Twosome. For the next 18 months, Tikoloshe and Msomi tramped the paths of Natal's back country, slept and ate together. At last, in Zibeville Kraal, they found a girl whose blood was to Tikoloshe's liking. Msomi killed her, put some of her blood in a bottle.

Msomi was captured and put in jail, but soon afterward, thanks to Tikoloshe, he escaped, and the blood-hunters moved on. During the months that followed, 14 more natives fell victim to their knives, clubs and axes until one day Tikoloshe announced: "You have rendered good service; now we will wash in the river and part." Arrested for petty theft, Msomi was spotted as the man wanted for 15 of South Africa's most gruesome murders. He readily admitted the crimes and even helped the police to find the skull of one of his victims.

Just a Friend. That night in jail, he slept soundly for the first time in months, stirring only to make room on his bed of rags for some unseen being. "It's a friend," he explained to his jailers, "just a friend." Msomi's jailers could not see the friend who shared his bed and his guilt, and neither could the court which tried him.

But local Zulu chieftains were not so purblind. Fearing Tikoloshe might still be on hand, they asked permission to stand by and watch when Msomi was hanged. Permission was granted.

Last week, in a Pretoria prison, the gallows trap was sprung and Elifasi Msomi went to his maker. "I am satisfied," nodded Chief Manzo Iwandla, one of nine Zulus watching. "Tikoloshe did not save him."

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