nd there he stands, alone inside the arena,
adorned with silk jacket
ornamented with gold-coloured stuff,
tight pant and biacorne hat to match.
A daring and hardheaded folk
who views his assignment as dangerous
but not impossible to accomplish.
He should not be mistaken
for epitome of egotism.
He has a mission –
a task to subdue a beast that is trained
but not tamed.
And we, as spectators could only watch,
and exhibit a mixture of euphoria,
bewilderment and fear,
the type of fear that conducts chill through the spine.
For some people,
it was a vow with death to lay down his life for the bull
But for others, an audacious scheme that must succeed..
While our adrenaline surges within,
calmness and confidence remain his stock in trade.
And now is the moment!
A stern-faced, chestnut-coloured bull
with good set of horns is freed
from the pen gate and forced into the arena.
He readjusts his daring posture,
and with both hands
he makes passes with his red cape
with intent to provoke the bull to attack.
And as the bull charges towards the cape,
a move he executes in an exciting manoeuvre
done in style and skill,
demonstrating his superiority over the bull
and perhaps between man and beast.
And with further aggressive charges
he thrusts his sword into the bull’s neck,
to the biological spot
that contains the vital arteries of its neck muscle.
Weakened, confused and psychologically tormented
the exhausted bull slumps
and twists in its pool of blood.
He has won the battle and is not gored by the bull.
He walks out of the arena with pride
and a tough guy persona
amidst standing ovation and deafening applause.
The worrying question is:
Is bullfighting a cruel national sport,
that should be banned,
artistic exhibition, or spiritual ritual?
Augustine C. Ohanwe
November 07, 2012.