The Village Drama

It was in the middle of the night. The curtains were blowing inside my room. it was like July and June. The star's were giving out their best songs of joy to the sky.

The smell of night queen met with my dream's. All I could hear was chanting and dancing of children a mile away from my room. Dog's could bark on and off. I was alone no I was not. The sound of cockroaches could be heard under my stiff and hard pillow.

something moved across my mat and disappeared into a crack where one could see my little belongings packed at a corner of my room from outside.

The kachasu brewery was very close to my house but it was not my favourite. I could be surrounded by drunkards only to chat with them and stand aloof.

The idea to get married came in and out of my mind. John the drunkard used to joke with me that I'm a hard to reach man.

The wind started blowing hard towards my room's window direction. it was cold and hard to escape. All creatures went to their respective house's. The only man who left behind was a fat rat gazing at me from the crack seeking for something to supplement to it's belly. Member's of the clegy, the mosquitoes, were gone to their usual hiding place to resume their duties the next night.

It was hard for them to eat during the day for I'm found of moving up and down with my village friends during the day in a group called; the black village monger's (TBVM).

The village is demarkated by two Rivers from the eastwards and another one north East.

surrounded by a big thick forest and other mountains. it was a great nature to view at a distant.

Elders of the village were well known with kachasu the famous beer of our days.

You could easily smell it's perfect perfume at a distant. Young girls and women were familiar with political leaders in our village. Receiving clothes known as zilundu or chitenje was their culture. it was interesting ....chibitsaliro was my favourite game where girls and boys could play the hiding and seeking game at night. I hated myself when I'm chosen to be the hyena by the night. I could rather be a father by the night so that I enjoy the warmth in somebody's hands.

yes....it...it was a wonderful game.

Nyabanda was our great leader in one of the famous party by then, all was good and professionals who were against her were punished by swimming in sewage pools. It was a great punishment. People could run away at her arrival. Children were not allowed to make noise to her speech. you poor mother's!!!! she shouted.....tell your good for nothing husbands to be good at taking care of your children....I hate these nonsense noise...it gives me asthma she said.

We took it as a normal life by then. In my short and a shirt, these were enough resources for me. No children were allowed to put on shoes before the elders of nankulu village. it was regarded as abuse of power in the site of elders in such a dressing code.

No one was allowed to have two wives, I believe life was in order. kneeling down was a great symbol of loyalty and respect. the future of our village was on a good track record by then. everything was normal at it's best.

I saw the shadows of my papaw tree's appearing on the corner of my house. Is this morning already? I protested...I started sleeping again, feeling reluctant to wake up due to yesterday's hangover. I used to enjoy such moments. stealing sugarcane at mama Miaas garden was our great habit. No one could sense that we are thieves...no one can predict what we were engaged in. The police community was afraid of us. I remember to kill two members of its crew and buried them behind my shamba. I stabbed them with my six gear knife. I was not afraid to die in someone's hand's. The smell of human blood was not history in my heart. I could feel happy to kill someone than him disturbing my life. "I said"

My dad could talk to me at time's but to no avail. you useless bat what can you do to me? I was a man of his dreams when it comes to such moments of fighting with my dad.

your duty is to give birth to children and fail to taking care of them....I slapped him.

Let's go to the farm....I hated these issues. Going to our farm very early in the morning and going back home at 5 pm. Life was hard to me. eating once a day with my little brothers. You little skinny animals this food is for me!!!!! "I shouted"

it was a noisy game when food hour has come. The elders could eat first then we can eat. I wished to be an elder but nature could not allow me.

Richard!!!! Rich..... Richard!!!!!! I heard my name from the kitchen. I'm here mom.

waiting to receive something great from her plate. Are you not satisfied with the little food you have taken? Ma'am please let me cook another one. You are very crazy son, your dad and I are suffering to get another bag of corn at 2 tambala and you want to eat again? I'm sorry ma'am but it's your duty to feed us.

Her usual brown eyes turned out red looking at me. Heavy with her due days pregnant. It was hard to have another child for her. another body to feed and look after....., she started sobbing. I was touched and vowed to change.

I should go to our usual meeting....I said in my heart. I left the scene without saying goodbye. she didn't opened her mouth for she knew where I'm going.

Don't bring cases here please!!!!!! Her voice was like an echo in my ears.

Going down the slippery slope holding my big sized pockets of my trousers. walking holistically towards the forest. I gathered enough stone's for it was mango season. No one would posses a tree. Every tree which has a potential for us was a great chance.

I couldn't do otherwise but to enjoy stealing.

Nyadani, Ndaziona and I were the hard to knock during the village knock out fight. No one could pass by without respecting us through greetings or offering a gift as a proof of respect. "what is meant for me is not going to miss me"

this was spoken when we meet someone carrying something we can bite. Dreaming of school was always our past efforts. No one was allowed to attend school in our team. I used to attend church at 8 but it vanished in the thin air.

Chickens and other simple item's were our target's. I used to enjoy such moment's, it was a daily basis Christmas. ladies could be interested to join the team but it was always hard for them. we don't need them because they are soft as secrets keeping is concerned.

The one to join us was given to someone so that they can fight in a battle. Losing was a sign of failure.....

Mr Banda the class teacher used to tease me of having a big headed body. This made me to hate school so much. He was a pompous. On his old Japan bicycle riding down the mountains of nkhondowe singing on top of his voice...one love....by the famous musician of our time Bob Marley.

The way to school was not an acceptable way, very hard during rainy season. Women carrying heavy goods on their head while children on their back. Bells from well to do people always disturbed us. Everyone was very mindful of the progress of the journey to and from. A hon was given to us pedestrians.

I dared to look back as to see what an amazing object it was... only to discover that I have a small space to pave a way for the old fashioned Dubai car to pass through the very narrow road. Amayooo!!! my voice was heard in the air..Splash of mad all over my new school uniform. Two little children could laugh but after my red bloodshot eyes all stopped immediately as fear was their reason to stop. I was very young but I could not allow someone to laugh at me anyhow.

I gave a signal to the owner of the machine after he stopped at a distance. He called me but I refused. A humble and handsome man stepped out of this amazing old creature touching his beards. What can I do to you silly and poor boy? with my little knowledge I mummered "nothing sir", all my strength was gone. Here is 1 kwacha note have something for yourself he left. people at a distant waved the machine vanishing in the air with undescribed speed leaving us under panic in a huge smoke. people were under panic due to the dangerous smoke. we voted for this man but look at him now. people laughed.....later to know that he was Mr Chabwera the mayor. I hated myself.

What has made you to be back at this early hour of the day? she was wondering as to what has happened to me. I...I ....aaaaaaah....was pushed by a car on my way to school. Does that mean you have to abscond school? I walked straight to the door that lead to the kitchen. Nothing was there. I left. Richard!!!!!!!!... was the only voice I heard as I banged the door right in her face. This poor boy. she hated herself. It was a very small round house separated separated by a chitenje.

infested with rats soiling out the food we suffered to gather. I knew I will answer several challenging questions when papa is back from ingoma traditional dance.