By Glenn McKenzie
Freetown - Naked except for thong underwear, a teenager hefts a rocket launcher to his shoulder and curses loudly as he runs into the street. His fellow fighters, many wearing charms around their necks, swirl into a mob bristling with rifles.
Unruly and untrained, these traditional hunters are the ragged line of defence for Sierra Leone's weak elected government against brutal rebels who systematically slaughtered tens of thousands and maimed many more during nine years of civil war.
The recent scene at the headquarters of the Kamajor hunter militia is a recipe of how the pro-government faction prepares to battle the rebel Revolutionary United Front: First, liberally apply mysticism, then whip into a frenzy.
The fighters' grey-haired commander, Pa Harding, was shirtless; his pot belly was smeared with a greasy paste to give him the supposed magical ability to repel bullets.
The militia also known as the Civil Defence Force is made up of primarily hunters and uneducated teenage boys. Most use juju (voodoo) fetishes to protect themselves from their enemies and some openly practice cannibalism, eating the heads and hearts of enemies killed in action. Often they execute suspected rebels first and ask questions later.
But in a country devastated by the rebels who have discarded three peace deals in four years, including last July's accord giving them amnesty for war crimes, many Sierra Leoneans revere - or at least respect - the Kamajors.
Part of that popularity stems from the fact that the other factions arrayed against the rebels are just as controversial and their loyalty less certain.
Many army members have previously fought alongside the rebels, and some committed the same atrocities - cutting off hands, legs and lips of innocent civilians - that have become the rebels' battle signature. The Kamajors have not veered in their allegiance to the government since the militia was formed in 1995.
The United Nations' troubled peacekeeping force, with more than 12 000 troops, has also failed to inspire public confidence.
The UN has vowed to give more muscle to its force here and UN peacekeepers said on Tuesday they had captured a strategic town from rebels. A rebel attack the night before forced government troops to pull out of Masiaka, which lies on a key junction 72km from the capital.
Kamajor strongholds, like the southern towns of Bo and Pujehun, are virtually the only areas of Sierra Leone unscathed by the civil war. In the rebel-held north, the group has had less success.
In Bo, Kamajors rule the streets, patrolling in elaborate headdresses and leather fetish tunics. All other pro-government factions are unwelcome.
At their Freetown base, the abandoned Brookfields Hotel, what was once a lively nightspot now has a swimming pool filled with garbage and rooms blackened by smoke from cooking fires. Young fighters while away their spare time playing soccer inside the empty restaurant.
The Kamajors, a name which means "hunter" in Mende, are nothing if not fierce.
Victor Palmer, a Kamajor fighter in the capital who says he is 19 but looks younger, hefts a British-made SLR rifle and promises to "kill a rebel" in honour of a foreign visitor.
His friends slap his back and joke that Palmer's chosen nickname "Unamsil" - the acronym of the UN peacekeeping force - suggests he may instead give up his gun to the rebels. Palmer responds by growling threats and pointing his gun threateningly at his colleagues.
Despite their undisciplined nature and frequent marijuana use, the Kamajors have found an unlikely ally in the former colonial ruler, Britain, which sent 1 000 troops to bolster Freetown's defence in May. Those soldiers are now gone, but British military advisers continue to supply pro-government forces such as the Kamajors with arms and ammunition and are training at least 1 000 army recruits.
Brig David Richards, the departed British commander, said he expected the Kamajors to play a major role in the defence of the West African nation despite their unwillingness to give up their free-spirited independence and join the new British-trained army.
"There is an important place for a strong militia," Richards said, adding they are able to muster up to 100 000 volunteer fighters on short notice.
Despite the rivalry that exists between the Kamajors and other pro-government factions, many Sierra Leoneans agree.
"Our army is in shambles and if we depend on the UN, then we might as well give up now to the rebels," said Ismael Conteh, a 32-year-old unemployed man, who said he was planning to join the Kamajors. "The militia understand the rebels because they are brothers. They are the only ones who can fight them and solve Sierra Leone's problem." - Sapa-AP