Presage of Downfall Chapter 2 – 2

If you missed the previous part, check it out here. Presage of Downfall Chapter 2 – 1

Mukuri town was big but not very big compared to other towns in the vicinity. It had several skyscrapers. It could be termed as a developing town though the rate of growth was alarming since grabbed pieces of land were being developed overnight.

The town was dirty for heaps of all kinds of refuse lay scattered everywhere. Most of the refuse lay in big heaps while the rest lay in small heaps. Plastic paper bags flew like a swarm of locusts when a small wind disturbed them.

At a time like this, you would see the residents dodging the offending dirty papers as they carried out their businesses. These offending and environmental degrading papers were of all imaginable colours and sizes. They were everywhere from the front doors of the shops to the ones hanging on the power lines like clothes on drying lines.

At a glance, it looked like the other big towns emptied their bowels on this small town. How could a small town like this produce so much garbage?

Large, well-fed flies jumped from the malodorous heaps of waste that resembled mountains whenever an intruder approached. Other lavatory flies hovered over the waste. They were countless.

Thousands of maggots wriggled inside the raw sewage that had stagnated into small and big ponds. Some were dying on the pavements used by the pedestrians after having come out of their refuge and being scorched by the hot sun or trampled underfoot.

The foul air was choking to a newcomer since it was a mixture of fumes from the exhaust of very old vehicles and from the garbage that had been set on fire to try and reduce it. And the raw human sewage that was flowing like streams even in the middle of the town. Almost everywhere you turned, there was a burst sewer.

The Roads Were in a Sorry State

The roads in this town were in a sorry state. If you wished to know what the road was made of, then you would have to conduct a test and most preferably, you would be advised to use carbon dating.

The town folks claimed that they were once-upon-a-time tarmac roads. The roads compared to gnu tracks the latter were better off. During rainy seasons, small lakes and dams formed in the numerous potholes. Other times you would not have to wait for the rain, the burst sewers filled them.

In this very town, overzealous hawkers seemed to have conspired with the government to create havoc for motorists and pedestrians. They had grabbed the road reserves, pedestrian walks and even the road itself for their hawking business.

All sorts of persuasions were being employed to woo customers. These hawkers were gifted with mouths that needed no loudspeakers and vulturine patience. Mixed with the hawkers were the muggers and the pickpockets.

Typical African Gamblers

Aha! And don’t forget the typical African gamblers (or broad day thieves in incarnation if you like it that way). They would milk you dry if you fell into their trap, and if you discovered their trick and started winning, then decide to quit after several wins, then you would be in for a rude shock.

They would gang up and beat you relieving you of your money and other valuables. The conmen with their juicy stories (true lies) were abundant and many people fell into their traps and ended up regretting the day they were born.

In African universities do they offer a course called The Art of Deception? If yes, these conmen and the African politicians pursued the course to the PhD level.

Street urchins loitered on every part of the town, half-naked. Their faces were black due to warming themselves in fires lit using old tyres every night and on cold days. Their tattered clothing clung fearfully to their dirty bodies.

They were always busy. Some were sniffing glue, others injecting themselves with banned substances while others walked looking for a possible victim to terrorize and rob. In the same instance, others walked in groups looking for unmanned cars to vandalize.

They worked as a team, some acting as lookouts while the rest going for the valuables like the side mirrors, signals, parking lights and the eyes of the vehicle.

Their Forefathers Fought for Black Man’s Freedom

The advanced ones went for the car stereos. Those who seemed to be idle stayed in groups either quarrelling or planning what to do next. Still, others were scavenging the rotten garbage for anything worth eating or for any resalable items like old shoes, plastics and scrap metal.

They were all rugged. What a life! And they were citizens of an independent country after their forefathers fought for black man’s freedom and paid dearly with their lives.

What was worrying was that they were now evolving to become street families, not street kids anymore. The reason is that they also knew how to reproduce and they had a share in filling the world.

Of all other things, that is what they could not be denied. Now, who is to blame for their plight? They? Their parents who brought them into this damned world?

Wait a minute, you want to argue that they don’t have parents, well, then are they test tube babies so that we can blame the scientists? Who else can we blame, the society, the government, the politicians?

The Beautiful Girl

Well, in this town a peculiar young girl was walking slowly watching the happenings bewildered at what she saw. She was a slightly tall girl with sharp breasts threatening to tear her dress.

She wore a full dress of a dull colour. Her black hair was held behind her back with a single hairpin. She wore black leather shoes that were in very bad shape since they had outlived their days. They were badly cracked and had big holes in them.

The front part of her right shoe’s sole hung on by a few stitches. She was dragging her feet as she walked looking like she had been doped with a general anaesthetic. She mingled with the townies that were just moving slowly as if they did not know what to do next.

Despite her appearance, her face was beautiful. She was very pretty. There was one thing clear. If the girl was supplied with whatever she was deprived of, then she would win the miss world beauty contest.

She moved away from the centre of the town and headed towards its outskirts where there were residential houses. Here the chaos and the hullabaloo of the town dwindled to almost nil. There was some bit of peace and the air was not very bad though it could not be called fresh.

The youthful lady moved to a door, paused and then tried to fix a smiling face. She tried several times but after failing she knocked wearing a haggard face. She knocked very softly as if she was afraid of waking sleeping ghosts. Her faint knocks were answered instantly. It looked like whoever answered them was just waiting for her to knock.

A braided head of a young woman showed up through the half-opened metal door.

“Yes, who are you? What can I do for you?” She asked eyeing the girl.

No greetings. That was the way of the townspeople, they were wary of each other. It was one of the basic rules of survival in major towns. What you were supposed to know is that the person next to you could rob you, rape you or even kill you the next minute. So it was like a courtesy to avoid any stranger, man or woman, either could not be trusted, the world had changed drastically.

The visitor spoke in a feeble voice hardly audible.

“Please give me water.”

After scrutinizing her from head to toe, maybe out of pity, the woman opened the door wider for her to enter.

“Please do get in.”

The girl walked in and the door closed behind her with a thud making her jump.

The Story Continues here …