About The Author

Poko Hunter was born on the dwindling days of November in The Year of our Lord, Nineteen Eighty-Five. As he entered into this cruel world, a bout of Neo-Natal Sepsis struck him and almost guaranteed his transition into Hades (the After-life) at an early age. I guess that is why his folks decided to name him after two disciples of the biblical Jesus…yaani [1] to try and bring him back from the ferry-man at the cross-roads by invoking the names of Holy men. (The Ferry Man takes money to help damned souls onto the other side!) The two Biblical names are not Poko, neither Hunter…but his legal names on paper.

But the little blob of muscle and bones fought off the bacteria like chlorine in a laboratory experiment and lived a relatively sickly childhood until one night at the age of 13, when he was jolted out of sleep by what the regular religious fanatics would refer to as a Spiritual visit.

On that night, he had an astral visit from The Venerable Lama Mingu Rampa from Tibet.

“Young Poko, awake from this sleep,” yelled the bald dude wearing a Saffron Robe.

“Who in the name of Be-Jesus are you?” asked the young Poko Hunter. (He had learnt how to curse by then…)

“I am your guide, Young-Buck! I am Mingu Rampa” he answered.

“Guide to where?”

“Your past, your future and what beholds you!”

“Fuck off!”

“You said the magic words!”

And with that, the two travelled the vast Earth in spiritual form…through the various reincarnations of Poko Hunter. From his days as a pile of cow dung to the time he was a cruel Neanderthal with a bad dental formula. P.H had also been a wrestler in the kingdom of Genghis Khan and fought alongside warriors loyal to Shaka-Zulu. (…by the way, Poko Hunter has a tattoo of the legendary warrior on his back…coincidence???)

Young Hunter and Rampa travelled the universe.

“Your spirit has been of a fighting warrior!” Rampa added as they leaped continents.

“I now seem to recollect! But…what’s next?” Young Hunter asked.

“Continue being a warrior! Never give up young-buck! NEVER! And keep off women with big tits!!” he warned!

“Yes sir!” answered Hunter. “Yes Sir!” he reiterated.

“Just live your life Young-Buck! Just live your life!”

And with those wise words, the Venerable Lama left P.H. in a cloud of mist.

Young P.H was convulsing on his bed as he tried to re-enter his physical being: yelling in a fit of nonsensical rage…

“What the fuck! What the fuck!” he chanted.

Little did Young P.H know that he had just been initiated into a life of trials, tribulations, adventure and the occasional drug and alcohol induced moments of clarity.

[1] Swahili for ‘that is’