In the 1990s a wave of hysteria washed over Tanzania, perpetrated by a mythical entity most foul, the Popobawa.
Much like the vampires of Europe, the Popobawa, who can take the appearance of an ordinary man during the day, is said to be a bat-like creature that enters your home at night, “popo” and “bawa” meaning bat and wing respectively. The Popobawa has a fearsome appearance, having only one eye, large bat wings — and a massive, ahem, phallus.
Yes, you read that correctly. For rather than wanting to suck your blood, which by comparison seems quaint, the Popobawa reportedly has a different and far more unpleasant appetite — to sodomize everyone in a household it invades. And it is said to return every night unless the victim or victims tell everyone they know that the Popobawa has had its way with them.
Who makes this stuff up, you ask? (Answer, no-one specifically, the superstition started untraceably, in the mid 1960s, with one story being that a Sheik released a genie who got out of control.) There have been periodic “sightings” and claims of visitation, and of demonic possession, although no doctor has ever treated anyone for the alleged attacks.
But the Popobawa is taken very seriously and is very feared, mostly by villagers and tribespeople, in Tanzania.
In the 1990’s a very “real” Popobawa flew across the country — yes, I did say real, read on — instilling fear, albeit at first unwittingly, throughout the countryside.
And as it so happens, I was able to meet this Popobawa as he came to bring fancy German cheeses to his friend living on top of Magoroto Mountain in Tanga, Tanzania, where I got his side of the story.
His name is Klaus Luffegheist (I’m using a pseudonym, to protect the guilty – he was actually a sometime drug dealer) and his tale begins in South Africa, where he and his friend built their own custom lightweight aircraft, specifically to fly long distances with little fuel. They found that very large, bat-like wings worked best, and, as it was a light aircraft, all of the landing gears remained in a downward position, looking, unfortunately, like talons hanging below a massive creature.
Their plan was to fly from the most southern part of South Africa to the most northern part of Norway, a journey begun without trouble until they reached Mbeya, a southern region in Tanzania. Here something strange happened. As they came in to land, they saw a large mass of people running towards the airstrip, clamoring over fences, though the guards were able to keep the strip clear by beating the crowd with sticks.
Our “batwings” next found their way to the capital of Tanzania, Dodoma, where, strangely, they encountered the same thing, people in large numbers running to the runway, this time kept away by soldiers. The fliers hadn’t experienced this in the other countries they visited.
Then they were approached by a reporter.
He was from a national station and had simple questions, such as where did you come from, where are you going, what kind of aircraft are these as we don’t see them around here, etc. To which the ersatz Popobawa replies, “well my friend here is flying to Norway though I plan to stay in Tanzania. We’ve come from South Africa etc…”
A rather boring interview, they thought.
That evening at 8 o’clock this reporter unleashed an Orson Welles’ War of the Worlds type bombshell, telling Tanzanian families huddled around their TV’s and radios “Today, two Popobawas came to Tanzania, and they’re MUCH bigger than we thought they were and they’ve come to stay!”
This being the government station, and especially with fears of the Popobawa then washing over Zanzibar, (word on the island was that witch doctors of neighboring islands had sent the curse of the Popobawa to Zanzibar out of jealousy) needless to say hysteria ensued.
At this point in time the very human but presumed Popobawa was still completely unaware that he was the Popobawa, and thus continued flying around the country. He flew into the heart of Maasai warrior territory where he planned to stay with an expat friend who happened to have an airstrip on his farm.
So there they are, sitting together, and just as it was getting dark the farm foreman and some workers came walking up to them.
The farmer said, “it’s quite dangerous to come here at night, I may think you’re a thief” to which the clearly troubled foreman replies “yes, yes, but sir it is very important that we speak to you.” The farmer thought maybe lions were menacing the cows. “No, no — no simba, but hooyu hooyu” the foreman said, pointing to our poor, still unsuspecting flier and asking “ is he the Popobawa?”
Neither Klaus nor his friend had heard of the Popobawa before so they said, “no.”
The workers asked “do you come from Dodoma?” which Klaus confirmed he had. The workers looked uncomfortably at each other before disappearing back into the night. The bemused farmer said this was unusual.
The next morning Klaus and the farmer woke up early and patrolled the farm and came across an odd sight. As they passed the houses they found all the windows and doors stuffed full of thorny bushes. So, the farmer thinks, there must have been a lion or something else after all.
And then they see a Maasai with his spear, as though on patrol. They approached him to ask if there was a problem with lions. They could see as they got closer that this Maasai was clenching his spear tightly. The Maasai doesn’t answer, only stares at them.
The farmer tells his friend, “this sure is weird, I’ve never seen them act like this.”
Klaus set off in his Popobawa vessel again, this time to Arusha. Once he lands, he takes his aircraft to the police hangar where he meets Captain Komo, who looks after the machines there, and who walked up, laughing, and said: “hee hee hee, you know you are very bad.”
The Captain explains “people think you are very, very bad. You are the Popobawa!”
The airman says, I’ve heard that before, what is that? The Captain says the Popobawa is a bad thing from Zanzibar, and it violates men. And his flying vehicle looks like a Popo!
Outside the hanger was a tree, full of local boys trying to get a better look. When one of the boys spread the news, buses and taxis full of people began turning up to the airfield to see the Popobawa.
Now Klaus figured it out. When he was leaving Dodoma, he flew over hills into a valley and saw big water holes where Maasai were getting water for themselves and their cows. From far away he could see all of these little dots of people just start running and when he veered over them they started running in the other direction. “I did not know I was the Popobawa,” he told me.
“So, then, once I knew what it was, I began to have fun with it of course. Once I flew to Zanzibar, flying low and close to let the people know ‘the Popobawa is there!’”
At low tide, as all the women and children walked out to collect octopus, he flew low in the distance, and he could see the splashing of their feet as they were running full speed to the ocean, so then he flew out to the ocean a little bit and they all screamed and started running back.
“I must admit I had a little fun,” he said to me, sheepishly.
At one point he went to Lake Natron, where tribesmen came out in full warrior regalia and approached skeptically to see this creature with flashing lights on its head, looking like a demonic insect.
They breathed a sigh of relief to see him take off his helicopter helmet and said “ohhh, it’s just mzungu (white person)”. Klaus took the tribal elders to see his aircraft, thus ending his reign of terror and bringing at least temporary peace between the Popobawa and the Tanzanians.