At the peack of the mountain dividing Kenya, Somalia and Ethiopia, on a dark stormy night, the Gods of Marathon convened to prepare the magic potion for their Olympic medal hunters. A secret mixture of melted gold, silver, bronze, cow milk and blood was prepared while reciting a very, very secretive magic prayer to the ancestors. It goes: arumba! Woo, woo, woo!
The portion was ready and it was time to call for the most valiant of local hunters, worthy of drinking the portion.
There came three men, Gebremeskel, Longosiwa and Mohamed Farah.
They knew the journey was to be long as the games took place on the other world across seas, where one had to ride in the flying cow. Two men were made the guardians of the finish line: Dejen Gebremeskel of Ethiopia and Thomas Longosiwa of Kenya. They had been given the powers to flair fellow anointed hunters, They were to let no one else go through during the last lap.
Dejen and Longosiwa needed not use their power most times though, for he who had drunk at the Arumba could not be paced…
Mohamed Farah had drunk. He was fast and enduring, but his ambitions were to be the fastest. He wanted to run as fast as the gods. No one before him had borne such ambition, which would have been at the peril of his life.
But he had a plan! From his magic box, he frequently saw and enjoyed the game of football. He was told it came from a far, remote island. Judging from the right foot of one David Beckham, he was convinced the gods from this island prepared an equally powerful magic potion. ‘If only I could drink on that potion too’, he said to himself, ‘then I shall be as fast and enduring as the gods.’
For that Mohamed escaped and instead of riding a flying cow, legend has it, he sailed across the Nile on the back of sea tortoises. His first Olympic test came in the midst of the night, as he crossed the blue Nile; He encountered and fought Gustave, the ferocious crocodile, feared by all East Africans, in an epic clash which did not produced a victor at dawn. As an exhausted Gustave fled, he told him: ‘you are a true conqueror!’, ‘when your legend is told, they will refer to you as The Mighty Mo!’
He made it through the Suez onto the ocean and gained the Island. This time, the island’s potion had been prepared in the depth and darkness of Lock Ness. As he drunk, The Mighty Mo acquired new powers. In addition to being fast and enduring, he became versatile. He thus took the name: The Mo-bile.
The pact had been sealed a long time ago; the earnings of the long distance marathon were to be shared among Kenyans and Ethiopians. They were the guardians of the finish line, and when the Mo-bile came, his face looked familiar, his ora sented the Arumba potion. So they let him through to win the big prize.
At the time of return to the East of Africa, Dejen Gebremeskel and Thomas Longosiwa where shocked at the Mo’s bifurcation. He told them that he was not going anywhere, his earnings were to be shared with the people of London. His fellow hunters pleaded with him to go home, but he told them, he had two homes now, whose potions he had both tested. He said to them: ‘go and tell the gods that when I left I was Mo Farrah, Now I am the Mo-bile!’
Upon arrival to the east, Gebremeskel and Longosiwa were disowned by the gods: they had not brought the yellow shiny one. They then promised themselves never to be fooled again, but it was too late now; the Mo-bile is on the move..
Posted 12th October 2014
