The Tremor

I must admit that my early childhood life was nomadic. I changed three primary schools before I graduated to high school. And again I attended two high schools just to complete my general certificate of Ordinary Level. The latter movements were between Harare the capital of Zimbabwe and Mhangura, a small copper mine town yet the second biggest mine town in the country then after Hwange Colliery. Situated in the Mashonaland West Province some 70 kilometers from regional capital town of Chinhoyi and about 190 kilometers from The Sunshine City of Harare itself. It was here where I enjoyed the ever exciting moments of my adolescence period. I initially had done my first two years at Tafara High 1 in the Eastern high density townships of Mabvuku and Tafara. This was in the days of mid high school certification they called the Junior Certificate. And then came the final other couple of years at the mine. The contrast between the two locations exposed me to much learning and adaption which at a degree I do appreciate a lot in my present adulthood life. Mhangura’s sun shone brighter and it was always green. I think it was because of the scores of the vast commercials farms that surrounded the mine town which consequently made the place a hub for general and commercial businesses as well. As Meatloaf would sing in one stanzas of his long masterpiece song by the author Jim Steinman; (Objects in the rearview mirror mirror may appear closer than they are),

“It was always summer and the future called.

We were ready for adventures and we wanted them all.

And there was so much left to dream and so much time to make it real.”

Forget the township I was coming from, here even the language was a little different. The locals dialect messed me up at times. The culture itself I couldn’t put my finger to it. A mixed bag of literally everything you can think of. It was here that I learnt that Malawi had multiple tribes just in time before I made my first visit there later after school completion. The Mozambiquean Ndaus. The Shona’s Kore-kores. Oh my word! It was hectic.

I lived with extended family from my father’s side. I don’t need to explain that relationship, basically anyone at home who was older was big brother or sister and elders were parents; that is African Ubuntu/Hunhu. I was now in a habitat called compound village named Damba. There was a few cottage houses, informal and other formal townships, and low density suburbs constituting the structure of human settlements at the mine. Somehow, the area still was smaller to what I was used to in the big city. To attest to that, some skill that failed to obtain, was the way people knew each other. They even knew me. It was so amazing and mind blogging these guy knew things in your head before you execute them. It was like living in a very small rural LDS town somewhere in Utah where ninety nine percent of the population constituted two church wards. At most times I did not feel comfortable because I was easily recognized if ever I got into making any mischief anywhere across the borders of the property of mine company. Now one thing I beat myself up was why I couldn’t do it too; I didn’t know my own neighbors just three rows down my own block.

Joe, is my young brother (actually my nephew) and we stay home together. He is still a in primary school but he loves to hang around with me. We called Dapi, from the big fat mouse found in the fields. He was big, born and raised local. I’m pretty sure at that time he wore bigger sizes of clothes than me yet I was four years older than him. He was smart as well. His presence was vital in my missions as he served as intel agent or forerunner. I completely trusted him despite of his tender age.

There was a girl, Madeline. She lived at edge of the village along the last block. She was a young woman of distinctive personality, she laughed at anything and loved having fun. Madeline was truly dazzling, radiant with imperishable natural beauty. Well balanced dark, short black shiny hair and sparkling white teeth. My angel, I called her and that was well appreciated with her gorgeous super contagious smile. I gave her company most often to and from school school during evening studies, a unique practice that I found at Mhangura Secondary School which students went back to school in full uniform attire and study personally or collectively for a couple of hours between six and eight in the evening. And at times to the shops during noon that is if we had arranged that specific meeting. In the mid nineties we were sharpened in punctuality skills, without mobile phones and portable gadgets to help us, we relied more on the wall clock in the living rooms or the radio. And we walked by foot impressively those dusty roads of the compound in so much our polished shoes would not catch the dust. Neither did our feet when we casually walked in our flip flops during off school times. Of course for me it’s a skill that I quickly adapted to after abandoning the rather carelessness type of walking in the tarred roads of Mabvuku township.

Just like an other home that I visited, as long as it’s not official which required to see the elders or parents, we met and part with friends outside. We developed a sense of reverence and honour towards each other’s homes. Though we were teenagers who were at the peak of mischievous behaviors we were simultaneously keen to maintain dignity. So I never walked Madeline inside her house. At the gate, that’s where it all started and that where it ended. Many times we would just stand there for hours as she laughed at my stupid jokes with her tendency of plucking off the leaves of her yard’s neatly cut hedge like a shy girl meeting her crush for the first time. I felt like Peter Parker, I was Spider-Man the superhero.

Nevertheless, based on my reliable source Agent Dapi, my treading careful in my approach at Madeline’s home was not solely based on the infused cultural respect for homes, instead it was fear. Going past the gate was just frightening. Neither had I seen anything nor had I heard something personally at this place however there was just too many creepy stories going around the village. One such instance at the shopping centre a guy came to me to inquire whether I was ‘the’ Noah. Without hesitation I gently confirmed my identity. I looked at him he actually got shocked but managed to contain it almost immediately like Neo when he first met Trinity; the Trinity in the first franchise of Matrix.

“Why?” I enquired.

“Haven’t you heard pal.” Yet again like Trinity he came closer to my ear, softly whispering to me, “There are spirits there. You don’t wanna go into that spooky house. It’s crazy dude. Everyone here knows. Be careful. Don’t be blinded by the wolf in sheep’s clothing brother. Be safe.”

“Like I said before, that’s what everyone believes. It’s all over the compound, in fact the whole town knows about it. You are so consumed about this girl as if she last one left on Earth. She’s beautiful I know, at least that what you say. I don’t know nothing about beautiful girls anyway. You have a crooked mind town boy. What do you smoke?” Dapi scolded me and he asked that same question like the millionth time.

Not once did I tempt to answer it.

Actually there was no substance in the way people gave the account to how the story unfolded. And none of them personally testified having heard or seen a ghost or the spirits believed to haunt Madeline’s house. My conclusion was that a series of misfortunes befell her family in the shortest of time. Other to me, Madeline was a very strong and independent young woman. A conquer of circumstances that surrounded her. I had my doubts of course, and it scared the hell out of me to get past that gate. I knew the inside of her house looked nothing extraordinary because all house were uniformly designed and constructed anyway. Never was the subject of her parents’ freak accidents mentioned in our many long conversations. I was inquisitive however, the virtuous spirit of patience took lead. I moved on with hope that one day she will tell me herself willingly without being summoned. Without her disclosing the ordeal I reluctantly relied on the scratchy publicly promulgated horror story that her father somehow orchestrated the death his wife which was declared in the house. The spirit of Madeline’s mother then started haunting the house a few months later leading to her dad negligently fail to operate some machine underground causing the accident that buried him to death. Apparently the ghosts of the two souls have been heard and seen hovering around the house.

24th of May on a Thursday was my birthday. It’s been a great day at school, lots of friends made it an awesome day. Without expensive gifts received at all yet it was filled with richer warm hearts and wonderful souls of my peers. I was recognized by my teacher too during the marking of the attendance register session and capped by heavenly voice of my class singing, ‘He is a jolly good fellow.’

20:00hrs. Bell rang. Madeline saw me from some distance and being overwhelmed rushed towards me in the corridors. Today I had been so busy I couldn’t accommodate her on any slot of the day, until now. Saving the best for last. I watched her getting closer and closer.

‘If she trip on something this girl is going to fall hard to the ground,’ I thought.

I held my breath, eyes opening wider and wider. Then she made it. Her arms now all over me as she hugged me. I held her gently realizing it’s the closest we had ever come since knowing each other.

“Happy birthday” she whispered in my ear.

“Thanks my angel” I responded.

“ I didn’t bring bookstore study tonight. I was writing a poem for you on this card.” She said tapping the card at my back.

“Wow! Thanks.” I said.

We started off heading home slowly for the first time we held hands all way to the gate.

Me: ‘So this is where we say goodbye?’

Madeline: ‘Says who? You are coming in tonight.’

Already heading to the door and unlocking it.

Me: ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea.’

Madeline: ‘Yes it is. Or maybe it is appropriate that I bring to the gate your dinner that I meticulously made for your birthday?’

Me: ‘ No no no. You can’t do that.’

Madeline: ‘The door is open. Please come in . Make yourself comfortable. I will quickly warm the food in the kitchen.’

I conceded. In an instant I found myself in for the first time.

Just like all the houses in Damba Village, it was neat modest house. The set up in the living room was identical to the few houses that I’ve been invited inside. The couches’ color was an intriguing green and felt very comfortable. The rest of the cloths on the sofa arms, coffee table and display cabinet were in, but a lighter green colour as well. On the walls picture frames I saw the father and mother’s photograghs. I threw my eyes everywhere and it amazed me how the state this house was maintained for some young 18 year old woman living alone. It wasn’t over packed with furniture which left reasonable space for movement. The partition of the houses were designed so that when one is in the kitchen you could see and talk to them easily.

Madeline was now dishing and she shouted, “ Hey imagine you mom had hold on a few more hours into the day for you to be born?”

“I would have been born on the 25th.”

“Yes, Africa day. Maybe your name would have changed your name as well to Afrika with a K.”

We laughed out loud serving as therapy to me as I settled in. Dinner was soon served of rice and crispy fried chicken and two salads.

When we finished eating and we washed the dishes together. Then we talked and we laughed. I opened the sealed envelope and read out loud the emotionally touching poem. I was very sure that in her mind the construction of the poem did not start that night. It might have been finally penned down somewhere during the two hour study period. It was short consisting of several lines of simple yet profound affection and appreciation. I felt my eyes warm up wet with tears, and as I came to the last sentence I was already struggling. Words were too heavy to come out of my mouth with my body reacting to the emotions. It was a beautiful moment. I loved it to loved and appreciated. And to realize how both of us needed each other at that time.

And then there was silence for a while. After recollecting ourselves we back at it again. Screaming. Shouting. Laughter. We felt young and innocent. We played games until midnight. And soon it was Africa day, a public holiday on a Friday which meant there won’t be school until Monday. This was the perfect gift for my 17th birthday. Slowly we got weary and Madeline prepared her bedroom for me and she would take her parents’ bedroom. I was so happy at that moment so much that all that fear and tension was difused.

My bed made from fresh clean linen to keep me warm for remaining part the night. Madeline had to make one last joke, she pointed to me using the right hand and the left hand holding her waist. I imagined my grandmother doing that to me as she warned me several times of going to the Donnybrook Car Racecourse unauthorized. As young boys we loved to go see the racing cars and bring along ourselves the wild ‘mazhanje’ fruits. She’s one of the best human being I had ever knew and so talked about her many times now she was being impersonated back to me.

“You are wearing you boxers, right boy?” Madeline said.

“Yes Mam.” I replied impersonating my younger self.

“You sleep with those tonight. Okay. I love you boy. Come give mama a hug.”

She said charging towards me.

She did hug me. When she let go our eyes met. I wanted to say something. I don’t remember what it is because just the moment I’d said it she stole them out of my mouth when she impromptu kissed me. And in softest angelic whisper,

“Sweet dreams.”

She walked away. Switched off the light and disappeared in the dark. The ray of light coming from the other bedroom shined enough to help undress and me lay on the bed.

Laying in bed with my back facing the roof of the house, both my hands at the back of my over the pillow, my mind drifted to the day that was. Then other room’s light switched off, and that’s when I started hearing from a distant crickets and hummering sound from the mine’s mill. What a blissful moment.

Half an hour could nearly have passed, I was still caught up in awe reflections of my birthday when suddenly I felt the Earth move. I quickly rose up and sat upright to pay attention. It happened the second time, it felt like the frame of the house moved left and right again into position and then a vibration followed for like a minute. The windows shook as if they would shatter all over. Most of the losely hanged kitchenware made some noise. And then it died off.

The greatest of all fears grasped on me. I ran my eyes around all direction but I didn’t see nothing that would shake the house’s concrete walls in such manner. I would have screamed but my voice left me.

I slowly rose and walked to the door and reached for the light’s switch. I checked on Madeline as I stood at her wide opened door. Peacefully she slept in her bed. I thought I shouldn’t wake her up. So I switched off my light again and I went into the blankets this time, laying with my stomach and covering my head. My mind began reaching for all those narrated stories about this house. I was breathing heavily and sweating from my head and chest like an athlete doing cardio exercises. Another hour passed and I slowly dosed off into sleep.

The sun’s rays hit through the windows curtains and brought light in the house. I opened my eyes reluctantly and stretched my body. I knew I would do good with a little more sleep but I needed to leave this house immediately. I hurriedly dressed and called Madeline.

“I’m leaving, I’m leaving. I need go home” I repeatedly said.

Totally perplexed she looked at me and repeatedly asked what was wrong with me. Then she rose from the bed and reached for a gown and led me to the door.

“Please come talk to me later during the day,” as she shut the door behind me.

“Sure.”

I ran as fast as I could. It felt like someone was chasing me. I soon got exhausted and I slowly down. I could see our house now but I was still walking in a haste.

Something was not right. Something about the people I met on the street. It was a Friday of course but a public holiday. There was just too many of them on such a day. And it seemed as if they looked at me in a strange way.

‘Oh my gosh, I hate this place. How do everyone get to know about everything everybody does?’ I thought to myself.

In the midst of that thought, from nowhere Dapi just appeared screaming at me,

“Dude, where have been. Are you okay? This is just crazy....”

“I know, I know. It actually scary man. Let me tell I felt it myself and I thought I was dying...’ I couldn’t finish the statement when Dapi cut me in.

“They say there could be casualties. There were men underground from the night shift. That’s why you hear all the sirens. All this commotion happening, despite the holiday, some workers have been commissioned to assist in bringing those underground to the surface,” Dapi said in his usual demeanor of a well informed person.

I could not add up what he was saying so I held him by both hands and right in face I said,

“What on Earth are you talking about?”

“I thought you said you felt it as well. Man, there was an Earthquake in the early hours of the morning. A real tremor. Miraculously there’s not been any damage reported. Hopefully the workers from night shift are all fine,” my agent Dapi replied.

I looked around us. People talking to each other. Women from the village expressing gestures which I could perfectly interpret they meant the same thing I felt a few hours ago.

“Hey Dapi, thanks very much for the information. I will go home and freshen up I need to check on Madeline, okay. Let’s go. I need to hurry,” I said as we headed home.

Shaking his head in disbelief, with a sarcastic laugh he went on,

“Even in the worst crisis you would rather die on your way to see this girl. Dude, what do you smoke?”

I replied,

“LOVE. That’s what I smoke.”

*THE* *END*