The Spectacular Story of Zenzele and the Rain Bull
[Collected African Mythologies II]
In the sprawling grasslands of the Zulus, far from the rising columns of smoke that wisp from village fires, there dwelt a beast whose horns spanned wider than two men lying head to toe. He was called Unkulunkulu — “The One Who Carries Heavy Blows” — though the scattered tribes simply knew him as The Rain Bull.
It was said no Kraal could pen or tame this massive creature with hooves that hammered the earth like thunderclaps. Unkulunkulu wandered as he pleased over the savannah, and the Zulu paid tribute so that he might pass by their lands unprovoked. For wherever the Rain Bull directed his mighty horns dictated how soon the clouds wept over the plains — or whether they vanished without a trace at all.
That year, as the blazing African summer stretched on relentlessly and watering holes withered to cracked clay beneath the unflinching sunlight, the Rain Bull’s horns stayed tilted eternally skywards. No matter how much the tribes beseeched him or even if they offered up their finest bull calves as sacrifice, Unkulunkulu refused to lower his horns and allow the rains passage. Crops shrivelled on broken stalks and livestock grew lean and sickly while the people’s thirst for rainfall grew.
The elderly chieftain gazed grimly over his sun-baked lands and delivered an edict — the one who could appease the Rain Bull and restore the blessed monsoons would inherit the mantle of leadership over all the kraals. At once his sons and nephews gathered their finest spears and shields to seek out the elusive Unkulunkulu, more to win favour in the community than lift the devastating drought. One by one the men ventured off towards the distant white-crowned Ngonyama mountains, Unkulunkulu’s domain, hoping to change the fearsome beast’s mind.
And one by one they returned, their faces drawn with shame for they could not find Unkulunkulu and they could not break the drought.
Until the day the chieftain’s youngest son, Zenzele — “One Who Perseveres” — declared his intention to confront Unkulunkulu. His small frame seemed unequal to the massive task, but determination blazed fierce in Zenzele’s eyes.
As all his brothers had returned unsuccessfully, the elders had become desperate. Without rain, there would be no harvest and their people would starve. Sceptical though they were that little Zenzele would succeed, in their desperation they gave him leave to try. “Return with the Bull’s blessing,” they said, “or do not return at all…”
And so Zenzele set off alone in search of the Unkulunkulu, the legendary Rain Bull, armed with naught but a slender herding staff and a small sack of provisions.
Under the relentless sun, he traversed over dried and dying grasslands towards the hazy silhouette of the sacred Ngonyama Mountains. With no paths to follow, Zenzele persevered, fortified by the simple motto etched onto his staff — imvula izona, which means “the rain will fall”.
After seven parching days and seven chilling nights, Zenzele finally arrived at the base of the Ngonyama peaks. Scrambling over sheer granite, he called out prayers into the silence, hoping that perhaps the Rain Bull would hear his pleas. At last, between two high cliffs he discovered the mouth of an ancient cave — and etchings upon the walls of an colossal horned bull. He knew he had found the right place.
Wary but emboldened by hope, Zenzele slowly followed the tunnel deep into the heart of the mountains. His staff and his faith lit the way like a torch until finally he emerged into a vast cavern and came face to face with Great Unkulunkulu — the Rain Bull himself.
Zenzele cowered at the enormous size and simmering fury that radiated from the Bull’s furrowed brow and flared nostrils. Steam rose in great plumes from his hide. But young Zenzele remembered his people’s desperate thirst and steeled himself to stand firm before Unkulunkulu. Planting his staff, the herdsman called upon the songs and rituals that his people said could calm even the wildest beast…
And thus began Zenzele’s true test: to weather the full force of Unkulunkulu’s ire and to persevere until either the rains returned or death took him.
The Rain Bull stomped and bellowed, enraged at this solitary mortal who dared trespass in his domain with such pleas for mercy. His furious snorts became blistering winds that buffeted Zenzele from every side. Shaken yet determined, the humble herdsman dug in his heels, chanting louder as he trembled.
For three days and three nights, neither man nor beast left the cave as they warred by song and fury. Unkulunkulu summoned howling tempests and scorching heat, determined to smite the interloper. As Zenzele’s lips cracked from thirst and exhaustion he gripped his staff tighter, mustering all his strength to sing the ancestral songs of rain-making.
Finally, as darkness fell on the fourth day, a soft patter echoed upon the cavern stones. The Rain Bull’s anger calmed as the patter grew to streams and then as streams turned to waterfalls, cascading through newly-formed cracks in the cave ceiling. The water flowed out of the cave and down the white-peaked mountains, and into the desolate lands of the Zulu. Suddenly, life burst from the ground, flowers bloomed, grasses grew, and both people and their cattle gloried under cool mists and among renewed streams.
As Zenzele finally allowed himself rest, the Rain Bull, wishing to convey his respect for the herdsman’s courage and humility, curled protectively around his bruised mortal body until he could be strong enough to return to his people.
When the young herdsman eventually descended from the mountain victorious, his story as “The One Who Tamed the Rain Bull” had already become legend. From that day forth, Unkulunkulu returned freely every rainy season, ensuring the bounty of the Zulu lands for generations to come.
The End
Background
This tale originates from the Zulu people of southern Africa. As Zulu society was agrarian and livelihoods depended on consistent rainfall for fertile crops and livestock grazing, myths involving control over rain often feature prominently in oral histories.
The story of the Rain Bull draws symbolic parallels to very real droughts that can devastate the region, while Zenzele’s treacherous quest to appease the Bull reflects the Zulu perspectives on the spiritual importance of rain paired with human perseverance and ritual.
Versions of this legend have been told for centuries, with Zulu elders passing down these stories as a mix of metaphor, cultural identity, and practical wisdom. In turn, these communicate values such as courage, sacrifice, faith and adaptability even in extreme hardship.
