The double doors to Levi Theodore’s hardware shop were fully open. Sisal strings fastened them to window grills because the wind kept flinging them shut.
Were it not for the store he had on the opposite side, the hardware shop could not have held all the things he stocked. Every shelf was full of well-arranged items for sale.
The display was eye-catching to customers. The hardware shop could cater for the needs of the people of Mukuri town. It was the best-known and most preferred hardware shop.
Due to the fact that the town was expanding, the demand for building materials was high. At the moment a lorry that had brought more stock was waiting for offload. The driver was hooting. Perhaps he was getting impatient.
There were two vehicles belonging to customers who had come to collect whatever they needed for their construction. Others had come with handcarts, donkeys, bicycles, and wheelbarrows. Not far from the hardware shop were vehicles for hire for anybody who would buy heavy building materials.
Levi was Inside Serving Customers
Levi Theodore was inside serving his esteemed customers. He was dashing about every minute.
“I want five kilos of building nails. Mix three and four inches.” A customer was saying.
Another was asking, “Do you have round bars, twisted bars and a hacksaw?”
“What is the cost of one iron sheet?” another customer asked. Then a little later, “I mean gauge thirty.”
Levi spoke politely, “Well my customers let me serve you one by one. It will only be easier that way.”
He was moving hither and thither; getting a commodity for a customer, wrapping it nicely then proceeding to the next customer on the line.
A fat man who had a sagging potbelly said, “You will need a helper, man. Otherwise, you will die of exhaustion.”
“You are right,” Levi agreed. “I’ve already pinned a notice there.”
“Oh!” The man said. “I had not seen it”
Soon it was Nightfall
When dusk fell at last and Levi was forced to close the hardware shop, he was a very tired man. He had placed the advertisement two days before yet no one had come. He wondered what was wrong since there were many unemployed people in the town.
As he opened the door to his house, he realized that he had to face the kitchen; the place he detested. He hated hotel food and on the other hand, detested cooking. All the same, he was feeling peckish.
He dropped his coat and rolled his shirtsleeves as he boldly entered the kitchen. It made him look like he could strangle a lion. He put about two cups of water in a sufuria and put it on the gas cooker. Hardly had the water boiled when he added maize floor and started making Ugali. Earlier he had bought a kilo of meat and he began to prepare it.
One thing that amazed Levi was that he was always in a good mood eating but not cooking or washing the dirty dishes.
From a distance, Alistair Karume caught a glimpse of the village. He could not see a lot except the rows of huts clustered together in about 2 acres of land. He was walking along a path that went through Muguna Farm which was the property of honourable Makwacha, their respected member of parliament. Hon. Makwacha represented the people of Ihwagi constituency. Muguna Farm consisted of several thousand acres of prime land, both ploughed and arable.
Debo Village
The sun was about to set when he approached the village, very tired. The long journey and the many days of crushing stones at the quarry made him tired. On his left stood a resemblance to a secondary school, which from afar looked like a haunted house, but still, children had to have their brains moulded. The fence had fallen long ago. The roofs of the classrooms sagged dangerously may be due to the recent unusual heavy rains that had nearly succeeded in sweeping the whole of Debo village.
The weathermen had warned people to expect unpredictable weather patterns due to the increase in global warming. The mud walls of the school had gaping holes. The whole school needed urgent repair. The only problem was the availability of money. Where would it come from now that it had become scarce as rain in the sands of the Namib Desert?
He walked on getting more tired as he approached the village, a funny thing that happens when you are about to achieve your goal.
Even when the day was giving up the ghost, the boys were still playing cheerfully in every corner of the village. They seemed not to have the slightest care in the world. Some were pulling toy cars made with old wires while others played football. It was not of the kind made of leather or synthetic material and free found air, no, it was only nylon papers compacted together and tied with sisal strings to bear the false image of a ball. Strong cheering was evident from that field.
Other small boys had no time for pulling the cars or playing football. They had an interest in Mugaragari. This was a metal ring propelled by a u-shaped solid wire. The metal ring went round the village gratingly. Still, some went around hunting for birds or any insect they found. They ate some of their kills and others fed the hungry dogs that never barked.
The small girls were not left behind in their feminine activities. You could see those pampering dolls made of old clothing. They were happy as if with real children. Others were skipping ropes. Some imitated their mothers, that is, by cooking. They would put leaves in broken pots and pretend to be preparing some kind of special dish for the family.
Young Children Had Ghostly Appearances With Dusty Faces
All the children wore tattered clothes. Most of them had protruding tummies and white patches on their heads. The very young had ghostly appearances with dusty faces and free-running thick mucus making figure eleven as it flowed unperturbed to the mouth.
A big group of village women stood close to one another talking in whispers as if afraid the devil himself would hear their hushed secrets. They would talk in low voices, and then roar with laughter as if they had the whole world in their pockets.
As he passed them he offered greetings. Few replied. After he had walked away a few steps from them, they burst into hilarious laughter that made his knees nearly give in. He would have buckled there and then were it not for his stamina and strength.
He did not dare look back for he knew they were all looking at him and he did not know why. Karume felt nervous and that state made him quickly walk away like a man haunted by a poltergeist.
Children playing
The Heart of the Village
Now Karume was in the heart of the village. Mud huts surrounded him. Many of them built were close to each other so that each house could hear the other breathe. So close were the huts that the Tick! Tock! of the neighbours’ watch, if he was lucky to possess one, was enough to disturb a sleepless soul at night or worse still those who take the liberty of thinking and planning at night.
They were so close that the farting of hungry children of one’s neighbour could be heard without straining an ear, and so close that you always knew whether your neighbour was cooking or not and if cooking you would know what was being cooked.
A boy suddenly emerged from a corner with a Mugaragari (a round metal ring propelled by a strong u-shaped wire) going at a breakneck speed. Karume stepped aside in time and the boy whizzed past still accelerating, making a noise as a real car would do. The shorts he wore were torn on the buttocks. The torn piece kept on flapping like a car’s signal.
The Terrific Crash
A sozzled man staggered on the over-trodden path trying to find his way home. Before the boy could pass, the drunkard staggered towards him. There was a terrific crash. When Karume reached the scene of the accident, only the man was groaning with pain holding his knee as he cursed in an offensive language.
The boy had disappeared. A small group of villagers surrounded him but he drunkenly reassured them that he was all right. They lifted him to his feet; he moved a few steps then reeled backwards and fell. That was normal. If he had a wife, she would come for him later.
The village bar was still where Karume had left it. A lot of noise ranging from hollering to yelling was coming from it. It was a busy place and men, young and old, were streaming in like worker bees entering a hive. They drank locally brewed alcohol because that is what they could afford.
These illicit brews like the Kumikumi, Mulika and Chang’aa were cheap and easy to get. Since the customers didn’t have much money to spend, brewers had to make their brews highly potent. It was a matter of spending less, drinking less, and getting highly intoxicated.
Three young men were lying on the dust just near the entrance. One of them had removed his stinking old jungle boots and his tattered donkey jacket was supporting his head. He was snoring unaware of what was happening in the world as the sun went to rest. He felt he was in the comfort of his bed.
The Smell of Cow Dung and Goat Urine was Overwhelming
The bar was not that big. It was mud-built and grass thatched just like any other house in Debo village. There were rumours that the masterminds of these illicit brews were politicians and shrewd businessmen who were making a kill by supplying alcohol to the country killing the youth or turning them into zombies. The rumours had not yet been proven. So they remained as such; rumours; while the country’s youth kept on perishing.
The smell of cow dung and goat urine was overwhelming. Karume came to the only shop where the villagers bought whatever they needed. The shop was the only exemption because it was made of rotting timber and roofed with rusty iron sheets. It had gaping cracks and it was from one of them that stale-looking bread protruded.
The shopkeeper was not in his place. Karume arrived at his house or rather his hut. A simple wire served as the lock. He removed it and got inside. The hut was cold and lonely. He sat on a round log that served as a seat and leaned back on the mud wall before stretching his legs fully. He needed some time to recharge his batteries.
Being a Saturday, he thought his wife had gone to the place they called the market. This is where anyone who had anything to sell or anyone who had anything to buy met. But it was getting late. Was she among the group of women he had met? No, it couldn’t be so. He tried to work it out alone; it puzzled him and made him feel hungry. He rose and moved out.
The shopkeeper was back at his place – behind the counter. He was a short fat man of almost fifty. He had already started balding.
At the Shop
“I want a loaf, man,” Karume said after greetings.
The shopkeeper bent complaining of a tired back. Then he announced with a lot of regrets in his voice, “I am sorry, I have sold the last one just now. I guess you will have to wait till maybe tomorrow for the delivery.”
Karume looked at the place where he had seen the bread. Indeed the place was empty.
He moved on and knocked at a door. A feminine voice was raised telling him to get in. The door was pushed open and a mischievous face of a boy emerged.
“It’s Helen’s father.” The boy announced immediately.
He opened the door wider and moved inside.
“How is everyone?” He called in his heavy baritone.
“We’re fine,” Mugo’s wife answered. “And how is my husband?”
“I left him safe and sound.”
“It is good to hear that. Please sit down.” She offered a small rickety chair.
Karume sat near the door and leaned on the mud wall.
“I won’t stay for long.” Then he produced the letter he was given by Mugo. “He gave me this letter and asked me to pass his kind regards to you all.”
Her face wreathed in smiles as she took it and thanked him. She lifted the lid off a pot and from it she put food onto a plate and gave it to Karume.
“I will not eat,” he objected.
“No, you will have to eat. You see I cook early so that these small children can eat and go to bed early.”
He took the food and began to masticate slowly.
Mugo’s wife still looked young despite the children she had borne but with a closer look, you could see her face was seasoned. She was washing the little ones off the dirt they had accumulated the whole day.
Karume Enquired About His Family
“I found no one at home,” Karume said as he ate.
“They will have come by the time you go back.” Mugo’s wife said. How could she tell him the sad news while he was eating?
Karume finished the food and gave the plate to her.
“Thanks a lot. The food was nice.”
“You are welcome.”
He started to leave.
“I will be going back to work on Monday. If you have any response you can give it to me before then. Well, let me see if they have come.”
“Wait!” her voice was sharp and it made Karume stop abruptly. “You will only find your wife.”
“What do you mean?” The surprised man asked. “What about my daughter Helen?”
“Your daughter was chased away.”
“No!” he said in disbelief. “You mean Helen is not at home?”
Mugo’s wife shook her head sadly in agreement.
“I prayed that you would come quickly. Your wife has changed a lot these days. She refused to listen to us.”
“Do you know where she could be?” He asked hopefully
She shook her head pityingly. “Thank you for the information.” He closed the door and walked out, a thousand thoughts and imaginations clouding his already tired mind.
The visiting strange lady put her empty glass down liking her lips.
Susan was quick to ask, “Would you mind some more?”
The young lady yawned.
“A little more please, I was very thirsty.” She said uncovering her mouth.
Susan leapt to her feet and filled her glass. Machira declined by shaking his head. She then disappeared through a kitchen door.
Machira was a young man of about thirty years, tall, handsome and well-built. He had a well-looked-after moustache and his black hair was cut short. He generally looked like a businessman but the strange girl wasn’t sure of it.
Delicious Meal
An Appetizing Smell From the Kitchen
An appetizing smell diffused from the kitchen and hit the two at once. Each reacted differently. The girl sat upright and managed to suppress a hippopotamus yawn while Machira sprung to his feet and disappeared through the door his wife had gone through. The girl was left alone listening to soft soothing music, which in some way, together with the fan overhead cooled the room.
Machira was the first to emerge carrying an overflowing tray of food.
“I am ravenous,” he said as he placed the tray on the table. “And I think I will eat a lot.”
“I will not allow you to overeat,” Susan said in a teasing manner joining them with more food.
“Can help in any way?” The girl asked desperately hoping to be of help.
“No… err…just relax,” Susan assured her. “Just feel at home.”
Feel at home? That would not be possible; her home setting compared to this was totally different. You cannot compare the Kalahari Desert to an equatorial forest inside the Democratic Republic of Congo.
It Was News Time
Machira interrupted her train of thought. “It’s almost news time,” he said looking for the remote control. He switched the TV on. As they tucked in, they watched the lunchtime news. Only the jaws were moving and the ears almost flapping as the trio listened. The girl could have been watching things stranger than fiction.
The news according to Machira was boring.
A man suspected to be a carjacker was shot dead the previous day while three others were held for interrogation following a botched-up carjacking. In the city, a police inspector was shot dead by suspected robbers who broke into a bank and staged a dramatic escape with an unknown amount of money.
Also in the news, a combined force of three hundred administration police and anti-stock theft police officers had been detailed to follow armed raiders who had stolen over a thousand head of cattle and over three hundred and fifty donkeys in a remote part of the country.
The cattle rustlers totting Kalashnikov rifles and Uzi sub-machine guns had attacked the five herdsmen killing two of them.
At the airport, the Anti-narcotics Unit had nabbed a suspect carrying 315 sachets of heroin and cocaine worth several billion. He had swallowed some of the drugs while the others were tucked inside jackets he had imported alleged to be for sale.
Inter-tribal Conflicts in the Society
The top news was that over one hundred and fifty people had been killed during inter-tribal conflicts in the southern part of the country. The skirmishes had also left scores of people injured. The warring sides had risen against each other with guns, pangas, simis and axes, to say nothing of arrows that were the most used weapons in the slaughter.
It was learnt that the two communities, which had been living harmoniously for over three decades, found themselves fighting over a trivial land dispute. And the land issue had turned them into savages, people who did not have a heart. This was evident in how they tore each other like beasts.
People who had been friends for a long time were now turning against each other without a second thought as if their brains were dead or had malfunctioned. Humanity is erased from their hearts and replaced with something worse than beastly feelings and thoughts, for even wild animals do not kill each other at will.
The major tribe wanted to expel the minor one claiming the land they had acquired belonged to their ancestors. The minor tribe had stood its ground saying that it didn’t matter whether ancestral or not they vowed to fight for their land which they had acquired legally and had documentation to prove that.
Heavily armed policemen had been deployed in the area to maintain peace and tranquillity. A commission had been set up to immediately investigate the origin of the violence although obviously it had been politically instigated. The area Member of Parliament could not be reached for comment.
Tribal conflict in the society
Man-eat-man Sort of Society
“It’s nonsense,” Machira said.
The girl wondered what he meant when such barbarous acts had been committed. She would have wanted to know what the nonsense was about when so many people had lost their lives.
Then, as if the man had heard the unspoken thought or read her troubled mind through telepathy, he began to talk directing his speech to no one.
“Our society is now rotten. The kind of society we are in now is a man-eat-man sort of society. Only the strongest will survive.”
He paused briefly and reached for the fried chicken. “People have to die as the world of the dead is never satisfied.” Machira stopped talking but the young girl thought he would continue. He was brief and to the point.
Machira pushed his plate away and stretched himself. He took a glass of water and downed the contents in three gulps. His wife smiled cutely and replenished his glass.
The appetizing lunch was over suddenly and everybody looked satisfied. Susan cleared the place such that there was no evidence left of people having taken any food. She then sat close to her husband.
I Need a Job
“When you were away I received a visitor,” she said to Machira, “and she will tell us her name and perhaps how we can help her.”
The girl faced the two.
“Well,” she said, “the first thing that I would like to do is to thank you for your boundless generosity.”
Susan shook her head in agreement. “You are welcome”
I need a Job
“My name is Helen and as you can see I am out alone in the unfriendly streets.” She shifted her weight. “I am destitute and I need a job in order to survive.”
Machira assumed he had not heard the girl and asked eagerly, “You need a job?”
“Yes.”
“What sort of job to be exact?”
She let out suppressed air from her lungs.
“Any kind of job; I am not discriminating, even if it is housework.”
“I see,” Machira said stroking his walrus moustache.
Inside the forest, it was getting very late and the hyena showed no signs of impatience. It was sitting comfortably on its hind limbs licking its right paw. From where he was, Karume noticed that the animal had a festering wound on the paw.
Perhaps that’s why it had turned out to be a solitary animal since they usually lived in big families hunting and scavenging together. Karume wished for the hundredth time he never took the forest route, but it was too late now and a waste of time to keep regretting it. He should be plotting what to do next.
A Real Life Story of a Man Attacked by a Leopard
When he was young, Karume had heard of real-life stories of several people who had been attacked by wild animals and had fought to emerge victorious. Like there was this man who was herding his sheep in a bushy area.
All was peaceful until unexpectedly the sheep ran bleating. Everything else happened so fast that when he saw the leopard coming for him instead of the sheep, he thought he was in a bad dream.
It had knocked one sheep down when it felt threatened by his presence. The spotted animal jumped aiming at his neck ready to dispatch the herder to the next world. Fortunately, he had a sharp, long hunting knife, which he brought down heavily on the animal out of instinct but not courage.
The impact of the heavy animal sent him sprawling to the ground. Quickly, before the animal charged again, he stood up but he could not locate his hunting knife which had been dislodged from his hand during the earlier impact with the leopard.
The leopard jumped again going for his throat, this time he planted his feet firmly on the ground. He stretched his hand and grabbed its throat. The knife had inflicted a deep cut on its right eye and blood was gushing out freely. He reeled backwards with the weight of the animal, which was scratching him with its long crawls.
Blood and sweat began to trickle from the combatants. It was a silent struggle since none of the two had issued any sound except for the man’s heavy breathing and the leopard’s strangled breathing. The man was tired; blood had begun to trickle into his eyes making it difficult to see well.
He Felt Dizzy
His stranglehold was still firm and he could see the animal was becoming desperate for air. He applied more pressure to his grip and at the same time the animal lashed out again with its paws. This time he felt like his eye had been ripped off. He staggered backwards before regaining his footing.
His back was stiff and his throat was so dry that he couldn’t utter any cry for help. The leopard’s scratches lessened, but there was another danger; he felt dizzy. Then as he was about to blackout, he heard the shouting of young men as they rushed to his aid.
Although the man was in bad shape, he recovered after a month of hospitalization. He emerged as a respected hero who had killed a leopard.
Karume had to do Something
Karume’s situation was rather tight. He began to think of what to do to get rid of the desperate hyena. An idea formed in his mind. He didn’t know whether it would work, but it was worth trying.
He pulled a branch from the tree he had sought refuge in and plucked all the twigs. Within seconds, the man had a strong stick.
He threw a small stick away and the animal which had been licking its wound turned to see who the intruder was. Karume did not waste time; he jumped down with his legs apart and the heavy stick in both hands.
The boots he wore made a soft sound. Then as the animal was about to attack him, he landed two successive heavy blows on its back. Pain and surprise struck the hyena at once.
It yelped and fell back in pain. Karume lifted the stick again and whammed it on the ribs. It leapt to its feet and suddenly went berserk. It broke into a wobbling gait having lifted its injured paw and within seconds, the hyena was running fast making a disgusting giggle.
The woman in braids gave the strange young lady a seat. She sat on the edge of the comfortable velvet sofa set as if she was afraid of making it dirty. She rested her slim hands on her knees and tried to relax and feel at home as she had been told.
The owner of the house (her supposition) disappeared into a small corridor. The young lady had a look at the room. It was a swish room as far as she could see. A wonderful room she had neither seen nor dreamt of in her life.
At the far end, a 42-inch plasma TV was housed in a resplendent mahogany cabinet. The cabinet door handles were made of gold. On top of the TV was a five DVD changer supplying the room with soft heart-touching love ballets.
Velvet sofa sets surrounded two large round teak tables with legs carved like ivory. The four walls of the spacious room were covered with beautiful exotic Vitenges imported from one of the East African countries.
Beautiful flowers were placed in strategic places making the room have the appearance of a palace. There were many carvings of wild animals, birds and even aquatic life. Most of them were carved from ivory while the rest were made from expensive wood plundered from typical African forests.
Persian Carpet
The Persian carpet covering the floor was soothing her tired soles. The room had so many strange things. She wanted to turn her head and have a better view of it but heard faint footsteps approaching. They came from the main door. Then a man’s voice was heard.
“Is there anybody home?” Then he called, “Susan, I am back.”
The lady heard a key being inserted and the door swung open silently.
“Hey darling, I am back. You …” The man stood in his tracks and peered at the young lady.
“I am sorry,” he said moving towards her and shaking her hand. “Forgive me for making a lot of noise.” He apologized, and then he moved and sat on the opposite sofa set.
“Well I am Machira, what’s yours?” he asked leaning back on the sofa with the aura of an important man.
“Oh! Honey, you are back.” The woman referred to as Susan burst in carrying drinks.
She placed them on a small table, served and invited them to drink. Machira and the young lady gulped their drinks and it was obvious the hot midday sun had made them thirsty. Susan drank hers slowly probably savouring its taste and occasionally smiling at Machira.
