Author’s Note:  Almost all of the conversation in the following true story takes place in the native language of the tribe holding the banquet.  The author is fluent in the language, giving the account its conversational tone.  Words spoken in English are italicized.

We arrived at the village at dinnertime.  Four white female captives had been cooked in a large pot near the center of the village, and the last of the four had just been removed from the cooking pot, and was on her way to the table to be carved.  The water in the cauldron was still near a boil, and steam rose off the surface.  Surprised by our arrival, the chief quickly realized that four women would not provide enough meat to allow everyone to eat their fill and ordered the cooks to add another woman to the pot.  When it was reported that there were no more captives in the pantry, the chief took the wrist of a maiden named Ihuoma standing nearby and ordered the cooks to place her in the pot.  The cooks obeyed immediately, hastily checking her breasts and other parts for tenderness as they lifted her in. 

The girl was noticeably upset by the change in dinner plans, so to speak, and protested vociferously, a flagrant breach of tribal etiquette.  More than likely, it was just a reaction to being hoisted feet first into a pot of scalding water, but the chief was still embarrassed by the girl’s lack of decorum.  All I could do was pretend not to notice the indiscretion and thank the chief for his generosity.