Q: How do I know which parts are actual events?

A: when they seem impossible...

These are all first edition books and each book is signed by the author "Jay Cee De Ville"
Author, Artist, Awesome!!

TAGATI - a story from Africa - a biographical novel based on actual events.
First-hand witness accounts and events witnessed and experienced by the author. 

Part One The Indaba

The Storm

Lightningflashed continuously, the deep thunder drawing ever closer as the summer stormintensified. Jagged javelins of incredible power slashed down, melting thesilica sand grains in a crucible of heat where it struck the parched earth.Stabbing up again at the dark bellies of the roiling banks of clouds, theyremorselessly demanded the release of their bounty, the rising wet breath theyhad stolen from the heaving waters. Growing ponderously huge, the clouds rose,prancing, running like playful ostriches, their snow-white plumes with darkgrey and black underbellies, heaving and writhing in the rhythm of the wind. Aritual dance older than time, this mating between thirsty earth and the windson the infinity of the restless life-giving seas.

The warm,fish-rich Agulhas current of the Indian Ocean bleeds strongly down the EastCoast of Africa, washing the golden beaches, nurturing the unbelievably richprawn and oyster-beds. The verdant green East Coast owed its life to thesurging warm water, not allowing it to rush past Southwards before it had fedthe air, its moisture stored into magnificent spectacles of clouds, theirpassage ruled by the hot winds rising above the earth. Intense heat over thelandmass ballooned upwards, leaving behind a vast vacuum for nature to suctionin the cooler air, now so heavily burdened.

In contrast, thecold South Atlantic current surges powerfully from Antarctica to the Southerntip of Africa, curving round the rocky horn to clash mightily with the warmcurrent flowing down from the equator at the Cape of Storms. The clash of thesefiercesome colliding currents sometimes rear up into a veritable mountain ofwater, surging mightily, then cresting at over a hundred feet before inevitablycrashing down, the towering walls of black water burying many unfortunate shipsthrough the centuries, men and cargoes vanishing, as though swallowed by themaws of a monstrous sea creature.

Tethered by thehot air, glorious mountains of cumulo-nimbus clouds rose majestically to thesky, their crests, like fluffy sugar-candy, splashed vermillion and gold, theircolours changing, painted by the brush of the Master Artist. Laboriously theywere pulled inland like heavily laden ox-wagons, their wheels crunching andcomplaining, accompanied by the lightning mimicking the lash of whips oversweating straining backs of groaning, bellowing beasts in their heavy yokes.

With the windtheir relentless driver, they heaved their heavy burdens inexorably toward thelooming landmassand the rampart barriers of the Dragon mountains, theDrakensberg range. Gathering momentum as the land rose steeply, forced everupwards and onwards, the massed cloud banks began to gallop like fat, stripedzebra, swept inland, ever faster, growing darker and denser in an unstoppablestampede.

Finally,sweeping over lushly forested valleys and hills, the cloud banks were hurledagainst the high plateaus with their sharp ridges. Veering furiously highagainst towering mountainous spines, they boiled and battled, then tumbled inconfusion, buffeting the cliffs, driven mad by the wind. Lightning arcedcontinuously, splitting the air with deafening rolls of thunder. The roilingmasses were forced to capitulate and condense, hurling down sheets of water,drenching the earth below as the massive storm-front surged inexorably inland.

Nongoma

A hundred miles fromthe coast, perched on that high elevation of KwaZulu-Natal, lay the sprawling townof Nongoma, the traditional capital of KwaZulu. It was a relatively modern town,yet still deeply entrenched with rural tradition, with ..