Sura ya Kwanza

Ridhaa alisimama kwa maumivu makali, mikono kairudisha nyuma ya mgongo wake uliopinda kwa uchungu. Macho yake yaliyotanda ukungu alikuwa kayatunga juu angani, akitazama wingu la moshi lililojikokota kwa kedi na mbwembwe; wingu lililomnywesha na kumkumbusha ukiwa aliozaliwa nao na ambao alihofia kuwa angeishi na kuzikwa kwao. Mara aligeuka, akawa anatazamana ana kwa ana na tanuri la moto ambalo lilikuwa linaliteketeza jumba lake la kifahari huku likimfanyia tadi kana kwamba linamhakikishia kuangamia tena kwa nguvu zake.

Sasa anakumbuka vyema. Anakumbuka kupepesa kwa jicho lake la kulia kwa muda wa wiki mbili mtawalia. Anakumbuka anguko ambalo alianguka sebuleni mwake, akatafuta kilichomfanya kujikwaa asikione. Anakumbuka mavune yaliyouandama mwili wake na kuunyong’onyeza kwa muda hata pasi na kuudhili kwa kazi yoyote ya haja. Anakumbuka jeshi la kunguru lililotua juu ya paa la maktaba yake ya nyumbani adhuhuri ya juzi ile. Anakumbuka mlio wa kereng’ende na bundi usikuwa kuamkia siku hii ya kiyama. Milio hii ndiyo iliyomtia kiwewe zaidi kwani bundi hawakuwa wageni wa kikaida katika janibu hizi. Anakumbuka akimwambia Terry, mke wake, “Milio hii ni kama mbiu ya mgambo, huenda kukawa na jambo.”

Terry, kwa ucheshi wake wa kawaida, hakunyamaza. “We nawe huishi kufanya tumbo moto! Kila jambo kwako lazima liwe na kiini? Utakuja kujitia fadhaa bure. Ninashangaa vipi daktari mzima hapo ulipo unajishughulisha na mambo ya ushirikina. Si wewe unayeniambia kila siku kuwa ni muhimu kuikwangura sagamba hiyo ya mielekeo ya kijadi ambayo inayafifilisha maendeleo? Na hata kukawa na jambo, what can you do? Mlaani shetani,” alisema Terry huku akiendelea na shughuli zake kana kwamba hajasema lolote, kisha akamgeukia mumewe tena na kusema, “si wewe unayeniambia kila mara kwamba hata mtu akijitia wasiwasi vipi, hawezi kuongezea hata pima moja katika maisha yake,” akaendelea Terry, “kwamba liandikwalo ndilo liwalo? Since when has man ever changed his destiny?”alimalizia Terry ambaye alipenda kuchanganya ndimi anapozungumza.
 
 

Sura ya Kwanza

Ridhaa alisimama kwa maumivu makali, mikono kairudisha nyuma ya mgongo wake uliopinda kwa uchungu. Macho yake yaliyotanda ukungu alikuwa kayatunga juu angani, akitazama wingu la moshi lililojikokota kwa kedi na mbwembwe; wingu lililomnywesha na kumkumbusha ukiwa aliozaliwa nao na ambao alihofia kuwa angeishi na kuzikwa kwao. Mara aligeuka, akawa anatazamana ana kwa ana na tanuri la moto ambalo lilikuwa linaliteketeza jumba lake la kifahari huku likimfanyia tadi kana kwamba linamhakikishia kuangamia tena kwa nguvu zake.

Sasa anakumbuka vyema. Anakumbuka kupepesa kwa jicho lake la kulia kwa muda wa wiki mbili mtawalia. Anakumbuka anguko ambalo alianguka sebuleni mwake, akatafuta kilichomfanya kujikwaa asikione. Anakumbuka mavune yaliyouandama mwili wake na kuunyong’onyeza kwa muda hata pasi na kuudhili kwa kazi yoyote ya haja. Anakumbuka jeshi la kunguru lililotua juu ya paa la maktaba yake ya nyumbani adhuhuri ya juzi ile. Anakumbuka mlio wa kereng’ende na bundi usikuwa kuamkia siku hii ya kiyama. Milio hii ndiyo iliyomtia kiwewe zaidi kwani bundi hawakuwa wageni wa kikaida katika janibu hizi. Anakumbuka akimwambia Terry, mke wake, “Milio hii ni kama mbiu ya mgambo, huenda kukawa na jambo. ”

Terry, kwa ucheshi wake wa kawaida, hakunyamaza. “We nawe huishi kufanya tumbo moto! Kila jambo kwako lazima liwe na kiini? Utakuja kujitia fadhaa bure. Ninashangaa vipi daktari mzima hapo ulipo unajishughulisha na mambo ya ushirikina. Si wewe unayeniambia kila siku kuwa ni muhimu kuikwangura sagamba hiyo ya mielekeo ya kijadi ambayo inayafifilisha maendeleo? Na hata kukawa na jambo, what can you do? Mlaani shetani,” alisema Terry huku akiendelea na shughuli zake kana kwamba hajasema lolote, kisha akamgeukia mumewe tena na kusema, “si wewe unayeniambia kila mara kwamba hata mtu akijitia wasiwasi vipi, hawezi kuongezea hata pima moja katika maisha yake,” akaendelea Terry, “kwamba liandikwalo ndilo liwalo? Since when has man ever changed his destiny?”alimalizia Terry ambaye alipenda kuchanganya ndimi anapozungumza.
 
 

Chapter 1

It was early in the evening when I noticed that Katarina was very excited. She kept petting me,lifting me up and dancing with me. She would hold me close to her chest and we would dance, moving from one room of the house to the other. The entire family was excited but nobody was talking about why they were excited. I decided to investigate immediately. Besides, everybody knows just how curious I am.

After dinner, I went sniffi ng and peeking. I started in the kitchen. The kitchen bin was full, as usual. However, the sink was empty and clean. That was unusual. It was Katarina’s turn to wash the dishes. Everybody knew that when it was her turn, she always forgot. Sometimes she would have to wake up early the next morning to clean the previous night’s dirty dishes. I decided to investigate further.

I had watched so many detective movies that I felt I was qualifi ed enough to play detective. I was very determined to know the reason behind the excitement. In such a situation, according to the detective movies, the fi rst step is to look for clues starting at the main door. However, there was nothing unusual at the door. I moved the door
 
 

Chapter 1

Although many years had come and gone, Birgen had never forgotten the strange dream that he had had as a young boy, barely ten years old.

In it, he was standing in the plains of Narok, looking after his grandfather’s cattle and goats as they grazed leisurely. The plains stretched as far as the eye could see, disappearing into the dark blue hills and forests that marked the border between Kenya and Tanzania. The grass was a bright green and shimmered in the afternoon sun which shone so bright it could have blinded him had he dared to look up to the skies. He walked to a nearby acacia tree and sat in its shade. In the distance, he saw a giant object gliding in the clear blue sky. At first, he thought it was an aeroplane but as it flew nearer, he noticed that it was indeed a bird. It was the biggest bird he had ever seen. Instead of flying on to wherever it was going, the giant bird started flapping its wings, flying towards him.

Birgen rose to his feet. He was not a coward. He clutched his wand tightly in his right hand, ready to fight off the bird if it dared attack him or his grandfather’s livestock. He had read the story of David in school and admired the way the young herdsman had fought off a bear that had dared to attack his flock.

That story always filled him with courage. It was what flashed through his mind when he saw the bird flying towards him, its long neck thrust forward, its spindle-thin legs flat against its belly and its wings spread out magnificently to capture the wind under their sails.
 
 

Chapter 1

As my firstborn son Barack Osano flips pages of our family album showing pictures I took on my wedding day with Mandela, my loving and caring husband, and friends, he draws back a lot of memories in my life. Among the photographs is one showing my aunt Jackline and her husband Rapemo walking me down the aisles of the Catholic Church of Iowa in the United States of America. They were handing me over to Mandela the son of Osano in a colourful wedding attended by thousands including Professor Mchungwa, my university don. I recall a lot in my life. The moments of my life with Mama, an industrious woman, selfless, kind, generous, forgiving… as her remains lie fossilized in the house of mockery. The grave. Her death, whether divine or man-made, will ever remain fresh in my mind for as long as I live.

My mama, though she left me at an age I needed her most, left me a strong willed angel in this society where mouths are like whistles, eyes like atomic bombs, and hearts anoint miseries and prick on the back like poisoned arrows.

When I was born, I knew nothing would ever separate me from Mama. She washed me, responded to my ugly cries as my baba roared on the bed enjoying slumber land, turning this side and that side. Mama collected my wastes, wastes that could make visitors choke and squeeze their nostrils to avoid inhaling the ghastly smell. Smell that could irritate one for life.
 
 

Chapter 1

Reader: My mother Kaveni has urged me to continue writing the story of her and that of her people, from the first moment I can remember to this misty, drizzling 19th day of June. It is not an easy task. It is not something I take pleasure in doing—for a lot has happened to her and her family these many months. You will wonder that she wants her story told. Let it suffice that the last time she wrote that sad tale of her captivity, she promised to continue writing the story of her people. But now she is cut off from most of them and, sitting here between these tall and craggy mountains, with no one for company except the wild beasts of the forest and I, I wonder if she can raise her spirits enough to write about her scattered relatives and the many events that have come to pass since she wrote that last book in 1886.

For my mother is sick, very sick; sick in mind, sick in body and sick in spirit. She has been sick and getting worse, ever since her past began to catch up with her, demanding retribution. That is why we are here between the mountains I mentioned—hiding from the many real pursuers and those she imagines are after her. That is why she is now seated upon her wooden, folding chair beneath the eaves of our grass-thatched roof, braving the icy winds and mists, and always gazing at the winding pass in the high mountains above us through which retribution would surely come, shrouded in the mist.

You will remember my mother, won’t you? She is one Kaveni wa Mulat’evia, who was taken as a slave from her Mivukoni home some twenty-five years ago, along with all her loved ones. Mulungu and our Ancestors must have been with her, for she was sold to a kind master—one Abdulahi Hassan Ali, a slave-ship owner and a great businessman but above all, an enormously talented artist, who loved to paint her picture—for my mother was very beautiful then (she still is, though she vehemently denies it). Her master had a wife, Amina, who was consumed with jealousy, particularly when her husband spent most of his time ‘drawing’ my mother’s portrait. On a day when her husband was out on business at Mombasa, Amina’s jealousy boiled over. She thrashed my mother with a hippo hide whip. Out of survival instinct, my mother retaliated and hit her mistress once upon the head. My mother was very strong (she still is!) and the result was tragic: Amina lay dead at her feet and my mother was forced to flee across River Kelele, which then teemed with crocodiles.
 
 

Chapter 1

Savana and Mwema lived in Pangoni. They were neighbours. Savana was ten years old and went to Maruti Primary School. Mwema was eleven years old and went to Tango Primary School. Mwema had a pet dog called Buddy.

Savana and Mwema had closed school. On the first day of the school holidays, Mwema took his dog for a walk. Savana saw them. She ran out to join them.

"Hello Mwema," Savana greeted.
 
 

Chapter 1

Nilifika kwenye lango la hospitali nikiwa ninatweta sana. Moyo ulikuwa ukinienda mbio. Nilihema kama mwanariadha aliyekuwa amekamilisha mbio za masafa marefu. Uchovu na udhaifu niliokuwa nao havikunisitisha. Nikiwa bado pale langoni, nilisikia kama kwamba mtu aliniuliza nilikokuwa nikienda, lakini akili yangu haikuwa pale.

Nilikuwa nimesalia na dakika zipatazo thelathini tu ili kumwona mgonjwa wangu. Dakika chache tu chini ya nusu saa na muda wa kumwona mgonjwa ungekatika. Hivyo basi, nilishika njia, moja kwa moja, kuelekea kwenye mlango wa wodi alimokuwa amelazwa mgonjwa yule. Muuguzi mmoja aliyekuwa kwenye ushoroba, karibu na mlango wa wodi niliyoelekea, alinieleza kuwa kulikuwa na dharura mle. Akashauri nirejee baada ya dakika kumi hivi. Nikatii. Nikaanza kurudi nyuma kutafuta mahali pa kuzipisha hizo ashara.

Nikiwa katika tafutizi zangu, masikio yalinasa yowe kali lililomtoka mwanamke mmoja katika mojawapo ya wodi zile. Nikatekwa hisia. Mwili ukanisisimka. Nikaingiwa na woga. Papo hapo, miguu ikanisaliti, ikakataa kusonga. Nikawa sina namna. Lisilo budi hubidi. Nikageuka kutazama kulikoni.
 
 

Chapter 1

Macho ya Kangwana yalikuwa yameganda kwenye sinema ya kusisimua, iliyokuwa ikioneshwa kwenye runinga kubwa aina ya LED. Sinema hiyo ilionesha umahiri na ubunifu wa wahusika kutoka Nijeria. Kangwana alifurahia sana sinema ile kwa kuwa ilisheheni misemo na methali asilia za Kiafrika.

Runinga yenyewe ilikuwa imeketi kifuani mwa kabati lililojaa vyombo vya kila aina. Si gilasi si sahani si mabakuli si majagi ya gilasi si vyupa vya kutilia chai. Kangwana alikuwa hajawahi kuviona vyombo vya aina hiyo. Kule kwao shamba, alikuwa kazoea vyombo viwili vitatu vya plastiki au ikizidi, vya mabamba. Kando ya kabati, ukutani, kulikuwa na picha za matukio mbalimbali za wenyeji wa Kangwana. Picha zenyewe zilikuwa zimetundikwa kwa mpangilio mwafaka. Sakafuni, zulia la rangi ya zambarau lenye unene wa takribani inchi tano lilifunika sebule yote. Nalo lilizungukwa na makochi makubwa ya ngozi. Kwenye kona moja, kando ya lile kabati, kulikuwa na redio aina ya home theatre. Mkabala na sebule, kulikuwepo jokofu na meza ya duara ya kulia. Naam, hiyo ilikuwa sebule ya Bwana Kitando, ami yake Kangwana.

Kangwana hakumtarajia ami yake awe na uluwa wa aina ile. Kila kitu mle nyumbani kilikuwa na mvuto wa kipekee. Moyoni alikuwa na shangwe huku usoni akidhihirisha wazi upeo wa furaha yake kwa tabasamu. Alifurahi kwa mengi. Kwanza ni kuwa safari aliyokuwa ameisubiri kwa hamu na hamumu hatimaye ilitimia, na pili, alishukuru Mungu kwa kumwinua ami yake. Ni wangapi wanaoweza kuwaombea mema jamaa zao wapate kuendelea?
 
 

Chapter 1

It was exactly 8:15am when Maera sat at the back righthand corner of his Form Two Yellow class. His eyes were steadily focused on what was happening in the outside world through the window. He watched as the gum trees that formed a canopy over the school’s main walkway that led to the principal’s office swayed in the wind..

He smiled knowingly when he saw some Form One students running helter-skelter behind the Mathematics teacher, who was heading to class as she swung a long dusty ruler in one hand while holding a packet of chalk and a text book under the armpit.

As the students ran, the Maths teacher, Madam Sophie, strutted on, her eyes pointing like new pins ahead of her. In a fraction of a minute she reached the class before the two boys and swiftly closed the door behind her, locking them outside. The boys looked worried. Maera continued looking at them as they had offered him the first cup of entertainment through the window that morning.

He saw himself in the shoes of those two just twelve months earlier. Maera had delayed in the boys’ bathrooms and did not run fast enough to class. Madam Sophie had locked him out before opening the door mid-way through the lesson to ask him to kneel on the concrete floor by the door. As the rough concrete floor bruised his delicate knees, Maera started counting minutes to the end of the double lesson. He was going to kneel for a long agonising period. Finally, the teacher opened the door and strutted out. Her ruler and books were carried by the class prefect as she held Maera by one ear, dragging him to the staffroom.
 
 

Chapter 1

Bella slid her glasses up her nose several times as she followed her three new popular and powerful girlfriends into an obscure part of the school compound they called ‘the lair’. This was some sort of initiation for her, a kind of rite of passage. It was evidence that she was now one of them— not just the girl they copied assignments from. Her heart pounded and she wished time would fly. In her year and one term in High Road Academy, this was the most daring thing she had participated in. Most likely in all her life.

The lair was much like a shallow cave. Bella suspected that even the school’s administration did not know it existed. She recognized the boys inside instantly. The Big Four, as they were known as in the entire school: Masha Mumo, Boo Maranga, Kip Kip and Mackenzie. The boys were already red-eyed and tipsy. These Form Four boys were masterminds of the majority of the cases of mischief and indiscipline that took place at High Road Academy.

“Look what the cat dragged in today,” Boo Maranga said, referring to the new bespectacled friend the girls had brought.