The sun beat down on Unyamwezi, baking the already parched earth. Weeks had passed since Bakari's return from Kapteni Steiner's fort by the Great Ruaha River, weeks filled with an unseen, unrelenting siege that was a testament to Kaelo's chillingly modern understanding of warfare, adapted to this ancient land. There were no grand assaults, no lines of warriors clashing in open battle against the German stockade. Instead, Jabari had unleashed Lبانجى, Juma, and their shadow warriors in a campaign of a thousand cuts, designed to bleed Steiner's expedition dry, to unravel its discipline, and to strangle its ambition in a slowly tightening noose of hunger and fear.
Reports smuggled back to Jabari's ikulu by swift, unseen runners painted a grim picture of life within the German fort. Food stores were dwindling rapidly. Steiner's initial arrogance had curdled into a frustrated rage as his foraging parties were ambushed with impunity, returning empty-handed and often with fewer men than they had set out with. Lبانجى's Wanyisanza trackers, masters of stealth, would lead small groups of Batembo, armed with Seke's silent, harassing arrows or a sudden flurry of spears from dense cover, striking and vanishing before Steiner's rifle-armed askaris could bring their superior firepower to bear. The psychological toll was as significant as the physical. Steiner's men, Kaelo surmised, were jumpy, their nights filled with the unnerving sounds of the African bush, now amplified by the knowledge that hidden enemies watched their every move. Sleep would be scarce, rations meager, and morale plummeting.
One evening, a young Nyamwezi woman, eyes wide with terror but also a spark of defiance, stumbled into a Batembo village that had recently sworn allegiance to Jabari. She had escaped Steiner's fort, where she and other local women had been taken to grind maize and perform other menial tasks. Her tale confirmed their dire straits: the askaris were grumbling, some of the porters openly mutinous, and Steiner himself was prone to violent outbursts, his authority increasingly maintained by fear rather than respect. She also brought a crucial piece of intelligence: Steiner, desperate, was planning a major foray, a last-ditch attempt to break the invisible siege, gather supplies, and punish the villages he suspected were aiding Jabari.
"He gathers all his remaining strong men, Ntemi," the woman recounted to Jabari, her voice trembling. "He says he will burn a path to the Batembo heartland itself if he must, to teach the 'insolent chief' a lesson."
Kaelo processed this coolly. It was the move of a cornered beast, predictable in its desperation. Steiner was overplaying his hand, driven by wounded pride and the pressing need for supplies. "He will not reach our heartland," Jabari stated, his voice calm, projecting a confidence Kaelo meticulously crafted. "He will find only dust and ashes where he expects plunder, and spears where he hopes for fear."
The plan Jabari had long prepared for such a contingency was set in motion. Word went out to all Batembo villages and their new allies in Steiner's likely path: evacuate non-combatants, drive livestock into hidden valleys, bury grain stores or carry them to defensible positions. Water sources along the routes Steiner might take were, where possible without permanently damaging them, fouled or made difficult to access. The land itself would become an enemy to the Germans.
Lبانجى and Juma were recalled from their constant harassment to prepare for a more decisive engagement. Jabari, with Hamisi at his side, reviewed their combined forces. They were still outnumbered in terms of modern firearms, but their numbers of seasoned spearmen were growing as allied villages contributed warriors. More importantly, they knew the terrain, and their morale was high, fueled by a string of small victories and a growing belief in their young Ntemi's leadership. Seke's improved spearheads and the constant drill of the Nkonde sya Ntemi had given them a new edge.
"Steiner will be like a maddened buffalo charging into a thorn thicket," Jabari explained to his war council, using one of Juma's detailed maps to illustrate his strategy. "He will expect to find food and make a show of force. We will deny him food. We will bleed him with thorns at every turn. And when he is tired, frustrated, and far from his fort, we will choose our moment to strike not just his flanks, but his head."
Three days later, Juma, from a high, concealed vantage point, signaled with a carefully aimed reflection from a polished shield – a crude heliograph Kaelo had taught him – that Steiner's force was on the move. It was, as the escaped woman had reported, a substantial column: perhaps forty of his European and Baluchi riflemen, the core of his firepower, and another sixty or so local askaris, some armed with older muskets, others with spears, likely pressed into service. They moved with a grim determination, but Juma noted they were already showing signs of strain, their progress slower than expected, their discipline less crisp. They did not, crucially, bring their small cannons, which Kaelo deduced were either too cumbersome for a rapid raid or were needed to defend the now under-strength fort. This was a critical piece of information.
For two days, Steiner's column marched through a seemingly empty land. Villages they approached were deserted, granaries bare, cattle kraals empty. Lبانجى's Wanyisanza trackers and Batembo skirmishers, moving like phantoms, nipped at their heels. A sudden shower of arrows from a dense thicket would fell a porter. A lone askari straying too far from the column would simply vanish. The Germans fired volleys into the bush, wasting precious ammunition on unseen foes. Their frustration mounted, their water skins grew lighter, and their bellies rumbled.
Kaelo, through Jabari, had chosen his ground carefully: a series of low, wooded ridges overlooking a dry riverbed, a place known as Makuyuni – "the place of fig trees." It offered excellent cover for his spearmen and several well-concealed positions for his precious musketeers. As Steiner's weary and increasingly demoralized column entered the shallow riverbed, seeking the shade of the fig trees and hoping to find water by digging in the sand, Jabari gave the signal.
It was not a single, overwhelming assault, but a carefully orchestrated series of ambushes. The first volley from Fundi's musketeers, positioned on a ridge overlooking a bend in the riverbed, caught Steiner's advance guard completely by surprise. Several men fell, their cries swallowed by the sudden roar of gunfire. Before the Germans could deploy effectively, Batembo spearmen, led by the roaring Hamisi, surged from the dense riverine bush on their flank, crashing into the disorganized askaris.
Steiner, bellowing orders in German, tried to rally his men, his European subordinates forming a disciplined firing line, their modern rifles spitting flame. Their fire was accurate and deadly, and several Batembo warriors fell. But Jabari had anticipated this. He had deployed his forces in smaller, mobile units, refusing to offer a concentrated target. As Steiner's men focused on Hamisi's assault, Lبانجى's warriors, including many Wanyisanza armed with bows firing Seke's specialized harassing arrows, opened up from the opposite ridge, their missiles finding gaps in the German line, wounding men, and forcing them to divide their attention and their fire.
Jabari, positioned with a small reserve that included the Nkonde sya Ntemi, watched the unfolding chaos through his spyglass, Kaelo's mind a cold engine of calculation. This was not about a heroic, decisive charge; it was about attrition, about exploiting every mistake, every moment of hesitation. He saw Steiner, his face contorted with rage, trying to direct his men, but the terrain and the multi-directional attacks were clearly confusing them. Their superior firepower was being negated by their lack of maneuverability and their ignorance of the terrain.
The fight swayed back and forth for what felt like hours. Jabari committed his Nkonde sya Ntemi at a crucial moment, their disciplined musket fire breaking up a counter-attack by Steiner's European riflemen, their new, harder spearheads, wielded by strong young arms, proving devastating in close quarters. He saw Juma, fighting alongside them, use his spear with a deadly efficiency that belied his youth, his eyes alight with a warrior's fervor.
Kaelo felt a surge of something akin to pride, quickly suppressed. These were his people, Jabari's people, fighting with a courage and intelligence that was humbling. But the cost was high. Warriors fell on both sides, their cries echoing in the dry riverbed. The scent of blood and gunpowder was thick in the hot air.
The turning point came when a well-aimed shot from one of Fundi's men struck Steiner's second-in-command, a burly, red-bearded German who had been a pillar of their defense. He fell with a cry, and a visible wave of dismay went through the European ranks. Simultaneously, Lبانجى, leading a daring charge, managed to outflank a group of askaris and capture a mule laden with precious ammunition boxes.
Steiner, seeing his losses mounting, his ammunition dwindling, and his men on the verge of collapse, finally made the decision Kaelo had been waiting for. He ordered a retreat.
But a retreat under pressure, through hostile territory, against an enemy who knew every rock and every tree, was a death sentence. Jabari signaled the pursuit. For the rest of the afternoon, the Batembo and Wanyisanza harried the retreating Germans relentlessly. Lبانجى's men seemed to be everywhere, striking from the flanks, from the rear, their war cries unnerving the already demoralized enemy. More rifles, more ammunition, and crucially, some of Steiner's personal baggage, including maps and journals, were captured as the Germans abandoned equipment to lighten their load and speed their flight.
By dusk, what was left of Steiner's proud expeditionary force – perhaps less than half of those who had set out – stumbled back towards their fort, leaving a trail of dead and abandoned equipment behind them. Kapteni Steiner himself, his uniform torn, his face a mask of fury and disbelief, was among them, reportedly having taken a spear graze to his leg.
Jabari did not order an immediate assault on the fort. Kaelo knew it was still too dangerous. But the victory in the Battle of Makuyuni was absolute, and its implications were profound. He had met a European-led, modern-armed force in open (if well-chosen) terrain and had decisively defeated it through superior strategy, discipline, and knowledge of the land.
As he stood on the now-quiet battlefield, the setting sun casting long, bloody shadows, Jabari felt the immense weight of his command. The cost had been significant – nearly forty Batembo and Wanyisanza warriors had fallen. But the message sent to Steiner, and to any other would-be conquerors, was unequivocal. This land had a guardian, a young lion whose teeth were far sharper, and whose mind was far keener, than anyone had anticipated.
Kaelo, looking out at the grim aftermath, felt a chilling sense of finality. There was no turning back now. He had directly and violently opposed a European colonial venture. The repercussions, when news of this reached the coast and then trickled back to Europe, would eventually come. But for now, he had bought time. Precious, vital time. Time to build, to strengthen, to prepare for the greater storms he knew were gathering far beyond the horizon. The cracks in Steiner's palisade were now gaping holes, and Kaelo intended to ensure they were never repaired. The initiative, for the first time, felt truly his.