A Short Story

Its dark outside and far from dawn i am rolled up in a tiny blanket with patches all over it, well everywhere sleep becomes enjoyable at dawn i am in the middle of a dream which is sadly disturbed by Bamkhulu's harsh voice "Thabo my boy wake up its time for the fields,

remember today we have to finish planting the maize"everyday he said the same thing about the maize being finished to motivate me but i knew that it will be a month before we could finally finish. I lazily stagger up reaching out to the small cupboard to light the almost finished candle with melted wax all around it, this was normal for me as this was the only life i knew,i search around for the one and only jacket i owned which my grandpa(Bamkhulu) had made for me by altering his own favourite to make it the right size for me and before l could look any further there it was on top of the wooden stool where i had dumped it last night when i was drunk with sleep,i loved my jacket it gave me warmth although it had countless patches on it i still loved it.

I pick up the cup of water that was always readily available for me to use, i pour a drop of water to wipe my face and using the only toothbrush i knew which was my pointing finger i moved it up and down cleaning my teeth and rinsing with with water, i put the cup down rushing to the kraal to help Bamkhulu before he could call again, i quickly jump into the kraal to help him choose the strong ox we could use for ploughing, in a tiny determined voice i look at my Frail old Bamkhulu and say " dont worry Bamkhulu i will get Jamludi the ox he surely hasnt been in the fields for a longtime",Bamkhulu looks at me with a smile on his face nodding in agreement,he hands me two big banana leaves to tie on my tiny feet to avoid me stepping on fresh cow dung which wasnt a pretty site,i only had one pair of shoes for church and school and grandpa always warned me if i kick any stones on my way from school it will be another two years before he could sell another chicken to buy me another pair of shoes.

I had lived in the city of Bulawayo from the day i was born i knew nothing about the village,the chores,the kind of life and the difficulties faced, until last year at the age of eight i lost both my parents in a mine collapse and i had to move in with my Bamkhulu who was the only relative I had,Bamkhulu owned a tiny compound in the village of Mambale,he had three small grass huts,one was used as a kitchen where we cooked and lit a fire everynight,the second one was where we kept bags of maize,groundnuts and thats where my Bamkhulu slept and the third one was very tiny this is where i slept,the floor was not made from cement but mud and cracks all over it gave me a bad cough but i never complained,there was no bed in my little hut only a big round mat made from different materials to me it didnt matter because this is where i laid my body to rest,in only one year i became used to the life in the village and never complained about anything i was always up for the duties my grandpa gave me and i loved when he would help me to make the okra relish in the clay pot.

Everymorning while it was still dark i had to start by going to the fields to help Bamkhulu with the ploughing,he would push the ox pulled plough and i would follow behind dropping seeds to make sure there are in a straightline we wouldnt want our maize growing everwherehe would say,until the sun comes up then i would rush to the compound which was an eyeview from the fields, i would quickly make maize porrige for me and Bamkhulu, then hungrily eat my porridge and wear my special dress put my books in a plastic bag which i took good care of, it was hard to come accross a plastic bag,i would quickly fetch a bucket of water for Bamkhulu so that he does not have to go to the well,then i would set off for my two hour walk to school.

I had no uniform so did half the children in my school which seemed normal to all of us,i had a lot of friends because i never stopped talking about the city life which was a dream for most of the children to one day see an electricity operated light,i used to tell them about the stove that didnt need firewood,the fridge that kept things cold and fresh,i told them about the television with white people living in it,i told them a lot about the city with a few exaggerations to spice things up,but i never whispered a word about the city to Bamkhulu because he would angrily say "dont dwell on the things that are past,look to the future".But that did not keep me from telling all the children who wanted to hear about the city although i had a lot of children following me around,i had one best friend Tatenda she always talked about her mother who had left when she was a baby and her grandmother had told her she would come back but she never has,now she was nine years old like me. I always told her she must have hope although i knew my story was different from hers,i knew i would never see my mom ever again but i always prayed for her mother to come back maybe her happiness will be mine too,me and Tatenda sat together in class,giggled in naughtyness together,borrowed pencils from each other and if one of us got a hiding from the teacher both of us would cry and wish that the teacher could go back where they came from.

After school we would walk together home although it would not just be the two of us,because of my stories i had too many fans following me around like flies we would go around gathering wild fruits and most of the times my plastic bag would be full of the other childrens's gatherings bribing me to continue talking about the city and the cars,until when everyone seperates to their homes then it would just be me and Tatenda walking slowly together sharing our dreams,laughing at the baboons hanging from the trees,i would laugh at her dimples and her teary eyes when she was gigling in excitement,she made me forget about being an orphan,about my early mornings with Bamkhulu,my loneliness in Bamkhulu's compound,we always took our time walking home because that was the only freetime we had to ourselves i felt she was my sister and my best friend,she was the only child in her grandmother's compound as well.which made us more than best friends and more like family.
Our day would not be complete if we did not go to the dam to swim and that was our way of taking an easy bath,not forgetting to look for the goats and the sheep before we made our way home,otherwise we would not have milk for our maize porridge in the morning." I hope grandmother made peanut butter soup" i would nod in agreement as it was my favourite soup as well made from dried meat and peanut butter.


BY BLESSINGS MTETWA

Blessings Mtetwa, 26.  From Zimbabwe, living in Galway.