A Little Mess by Max Sledge (good books to read in english TXT) đź“–
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woman in the group carrying a large bucket of water containing at least five gallons resting on her head. They all stared at me as if I was a sideshow in the circus. I couldn’t blame them; seeing a white person in the bush is rare. Not only had they just seen a white person, they had seen a white person wearing shiny gold pants walking down their road in the middle of the night. As the group passed I heard the classic snickering and laughter that came with each sighting of my skin. But the more I thought about my present condition the more I began to worry. Sure, I had been into the township before, but that was during the day and I hadn’t been with just one person either. I had been with a group of people who not only knew the language but also could protect me if anything went wrong. Smart was a sweet guy who meant no harm but I didn’t feel he could protect me in this situation. With that thought, I pulled the hood of my sweatshirt over my head in an attempt to hide my melanin lacking face. I could see the lights from the township growing brighter but I knew we still had a good ten minutes of walking to go. Smart began to engage me in conversation. He asked many questions. Most consisted of whether or not people in America had goats (and other farm animals), what type of cars we drove, if I had a girlfriend and if not, would I be interested in a Zimbabwean girl for a wife. Then Smart grew silent as if he was collecting his thoughts.
“Will you write to me when you get back to da States Mr. Brain?”
“Sure Smart what do you want me to say?” I replied.
“Tell me about da weather, what yo doing, life in America. When you come back here to see me….” Smart paused, thought, and then started again. “I want to make it here, but it tiss so hard for me, if you wrote it would help me keep up good spirits.” Smart smiled. We continued to talk and then Smart asked me one last question.
“I wonda, if you could sponsor me to come back wit you to America?” Smart said. I knew that this question was inevitable and I had been presented with this request from different people numerous times. Every time it broke my heart but I responded to the question in the way that I had been taught.
“Talk to Sister Kathy, Smart.” I said. As soon as the words Sister and Kathy rolled off my tongue Smart grew silent. Shortly after, he changed the subject.
Sister Kathy was the name of the American nurse who ran the hospital in the neighboring town. I had come two months earlier to help Kathy by volunteering in the hospital for the summer. Kathy had suggested that I stay one night in the community in order for me to experience “true Zimbabwean lifestyle.” Smart was an elder in one of the house churches in the rural area and had agreed to let me stay with him. The hospital that Kathy ran was the only one that existed for hundreds of kilometers. Having worked in the community for over twenty years, she commanded absolute respect from everyone. Sister Kathy was not with me now and I would have felt a lot better had she been. The story that Sister Kathy had told me a few nights ago at the hospital flashed into my mind and my mind drifted to that night. Smart began discussing his love for Snickers bars. As I was sitting across from Kathy at the dinner table she began to explain to me her latest near death experience. It had happened two years ago during election season. The ruling government party soldiers had been touring the rural areas in attempt to intimidate the locals. They did this by beating up the men and raping the women. Six men armed with guns had taken a young girl attending Kathy’s bible study. They took her to the township where they held her hostage. Hearing that this had happened, Kathy hopped into her Land Rover and drove to the township where the young girl was being held prisoner. Kathy walked into the den of iniquity and grabbed the girl by the hand. The soldiers watched speechless and in shock as Kathy led her to the Land Rover. Once the girl was inside she sped away and hid the girl in an undisclosed location. She then returned to the hospital to wait for the retaliation that would inevitably come. Two days later three men stumbled onto the hospital compound late at night. They were not there to harm Sister; they just wanted to tell her what had happened. Apparently, the three men had been hitchhiking on the road that ran through the township. By chance, the soldiers responsible for kidnapping the girl picked up the three men. Upon entering the vehicle the soldiers began to brag about their plans. They were on the way the hospital to kill Sister Kathy. Humiliated by Kathy two days earlier, they were looking for revenge and their guns were loaded. But, two kilometers from the hospital the vehicle lost control and flew off the road. The vehicle ended up upside down in a large ditch. After the dust had cleared the three hitchhikers realized that they were the only survivors of the crash. All six soldiers had died instantly. The men noticed that they were only a few kilometers from the hospital. Because they were relatively unscathed, they decided to walk to the hospital to tell Kathy what had happened. I knew I wasn’t Kathy and that if I had tried to rescue that girl I would have been murdered.
The township was only one hundred meters away. I could hear the sound of Hip Hop music playing at the bar. My heart began to pound and my stride quickened. “ Zip-zip, Zip-zip, Here we go.” I thought. I tried to keep my profile as low as possible. Smart and I passed under the first electric light mounted at the outskirts of the township. My shiny pants reflected the unnatural light like a solar panel. I looked to my left. Around fifty people were hanging out in and around the bar, laughing and smiling. Cock-fighting was taking place to the bar’s right. I don’t know if it was because my white face glanced in their direction or the Hammer pants, but everyone became alerted to my presence. The laughing grew silent, the music stopped, everyone stopped and turned in my direction. Smart smiled and waved as my eyes moved from the bar to the ground.
“Smart! Haukotsire nhasi usiku, nokuti urikugara nezuva!” a voice shouted from the bar.
Instantly the entire group busted out in hilarious laughter. As we passed the circus, I asked what had been said.
“They say, I will no sleep tonight,” Smart said. His voice shifted revealing his embarrassment. “That’s not very funny,” I thought as we continued to walk. We were heading toward one of the many shops lining the street. Each shop consisted of a few pieces of plywood haphazardly nailed together. Again I asked Smart what was so funny.
“ I will no sleep because… I’m staying wit da sun.”
He said this while glancing at the Hammer pants. I could see the shame in his eyes.
“Oh, they are making fun of your pants Smart? Well, I like them, yeah, they’re pretty sweet.” As I said this, I smiled. My approval lifted Smart’s spirits instantly and he put one arm around me. As we entered the shop linked at the hip, the two men behind the counter shielded their eyes from the glare of the pants. I took my hood off knowing my cover had been blown. Smart began to speak in Shona to the shopkeepers. I kept my eye on the bar scene. Six males had broken off from the main group and were stumbling toward the shop. For some reason I thought that if I pulled my hood back over my head it would make me more intimidating, so that is what I did. The six men stopped and stood outside the shop. Smart purchased the medicine for Mess and we turned to walk toward the exit. I began to strut like Snoop Dog in a music video, but to no avail. I knew that a confrontation was imminent. As we exited the shop all six men surrounded us.
“Ummm… Hullo.” Smart said. Silence. I could smell alcohol. Five out of the six guys were holding beer bottles like tomahawks. Smart was the only person in the group smiling. “This is it.” I thought, “This is how I am going to die. How embarrassing!” I frantically tried to think of a way to get away. I realized that I didn’t have anything to bribe them with. My wallet was in my jeans and my digital camera was back at Smart’s house. Smart began to talk furiously in Shona. One of the men, apparently the ringleader, cut him off abruptly. The ringleader was short and muscular. He was wearing a button down flannel shirt and what looked to me like black dress pants rolled up to his knee. As he spoke I noticed his lack of dental hygiene. His teeth were scarce in the front. The ones that were there were either dead or dying, brown, black and jagged. As I was waiting to die I also noticed that two of the other men were wearing identical jackets. Tattered and in disrepair they contained a crest in the upper right hand corner. Of the six men who had surrounded us, each one lacked a different article of clothing. One missing a shirt, one missing shoes and there was a guy who was missing pants as well. He was wearing nothing but white jockey-style underwear, a purple vest and only one Birkenstock sandal.
“Who ah you sa?” The ringleader spoke to me with disdain in his voice. I explained to him that my name was Brian and that I was staying with Smart for the night. I then asked him who he was. He told me that his name was Vivian. My grandmother’s name had been Vivian and as the ringleader continued I tried to keep a straight face. Vivian began to ask numerous questions about my connection with the hospital and Sister Kathy. I told him that I had been working in the hospital and that I was Sister’s friend. After the questions were over Vivian stumbled toward me getting two inches from my face.
“You are wit Sista, huh? You tink yo special? You will suffa tonight Brian.” He smelled so bad I had to hold my breath while he spoke. Vivian snapped his fingers and walked past me. Two of Vivian’s thugs took me by the arms and pulled me out of the light-filled street. We followed Vivian into the darkness. Smart followed right behind me with two escorts on either side of him. The guy without pants followed Smart, flanking our drunken parade. I looked down and noticed that one of the thugs who grabbed my arm wasn’t wearing shoes. His feet were calloused and dirty. We had been walking for ten minutes and I had lost all sense of direction. Turning down a small path flanked on either side by cotton plants, we began to make our way up to a group of huts. All the men were speaking in Shona but Smart was silent. As we reached one of the huts, a woman came out to meet us. Shocked at the spectacle before her she began arguing with Vivian. The fight did not last long. As soon as Vivian raised his voice she relented.
“Will you write to me when you get back to da States Mr. Brain?”
“Sure Smart what do you want me to say?” I replied.
“Tell me about da weather, what yo doing, life in America. When you come back here to see me….” Smart paused, thought, and then started again. “I want to make it here, but it tiss so hard for me, if you wrote it would help me keep up good spirits.” Smart smiled. We continued to talk and then Smart asked me one last question.
“I wonda, if you could sponsor me to come back wit you to America?” Smart said. I knew that this question was inevitable and I had been presented with this request from different people numerous times. Every time it broke my heart but I responded to the question in the way that I had been taught.
“Talk to Sister Kathy, Smart.” I said. As soon as the words Sister and Kathy rolled off my tongue Smart grew silent. Shortly after, he changed the subject.
Sister Kathy was the name of the American nurse who ran the hospital in the neighboring town. I had come two months earlier to help Kathy by volunteering in the hospital for the summer. Kathy had suggested that I stay one night in the community in order for me to experience “true Zimbabwean lifestyle.” Smart was an elder in one of the house churches in the rural area and had agreed to let me stay with him. The hospital that Kathy ran was the only one that existed for hundreds of kilometers. Having worked in the community for over twenty years, she commanded absolute respect from everyone. Sister Kathy was not with me now and I would have felt a lot better had she been. The story that Sister Kathy had told me a few nights ago at the hospital flashed into my mind and my mind drifted to that night. Smart began discussing his love for Snickers bars. As I was sitting across from Kathy at the dinner table she began to explain to me her latest near death experience. It had happened two years ago during election season. The ruling government party soldiers had been touring the rural areas in attempt to intimidate the locals. They did this by beating up the men and raping the women. Six men armed with guns had taken a young girl attending Kathy’s bible study. They took her to the township where they held her hostage. Hearing that this had happened, Kathy hopped into her Land Rover and drove to the township where the young girl was being held prisoner. Kathy walked into the den of iniquity and grabbed the girl by the hand. The soldiers watched speechless and in shock as Kathy led her to the Land Rover. Once the girl was inside she sped away and hid the girl in an undisclosed location. She then returned to the hospital to wait for the retaliation that would inevitably come. Two days later three men stumbled onto the hospital compound late at night. They were not there to harm Sister; they just wanted to tell her what had happened. Apparently, the three men had been hitchhiking on the road that ran through the township. By chance, the soldiers responsible for kidnapping the girl picked up the three men. Upon entering the vehicle the soldiers began to brag about their plans. They were on the way the hospital to kill Sister Kathy. Humiliated by Kathy two days earlier, they were looking for revenge and their guns were loaded. But, two kilometers from the hospital the vehicle lost control and flew off the road. The vehicle ended up upside down in a large ditch. After the dust had cleared the three hitchhikers realized that they were the only survivors of the crash. All six soldiers had died instantly. The men noticed that they were only a few kilometers from the hospital. Because they were relatively unscathed, they decided to walk to the hospital to tell Kathy what had happened. I knew I wasn’t Kathy and that if I had tried to rescue that girl I would have been murdered.
The township was only one hundred meters away. I could hear the sound of Hip Hop music playing at the bar. My heart began to pound and my stride quickened. “ Zip-zip, Zip-zip, Here we go.” I thought. I tried to keep my profile as low as possible. Smart and I passed under the first electric light mounted at the outskirts of the township. My shiny pants reflected the unnatural light like a solar panel. I looked to my left. Around fifty people were hanging out in and around the bar, laughing and smiling. Cock-fighting was taking place to the bar’s right. I don’t know if it was because my white face glanced in their direction or the Hammer pants, but everyone became alerted to my presence. The laughing grew silent, the music stopped, everyone stopped and turned in my direction. Smart smiled and waved as my eyes moved from the bar to the ground.
“Smart! Haukotsire nhasi usiku, nokuti urikugara nezuva!” a voice shouted from the bar.
Instantly the entire group busted out in hilarious laughter. As we passed the circus, I asked what had been said.
“They say, I will no sleep tonight,” Smart said. His voice shifted revealing his embarrassment. “That’s not very funny,” I thought as we continued to walk. We were heading toward one of the many shops lining the street. Each shop consisted of a few pieces of plywood haphazardly nailed together. Again I asked Smart what was so funny.
“ I will no sleep because… I’m staying wit da sun.”
He said this while glancing at the Hammer pants. I could see the shame in his eyes.
“Oh, they are making fun of your pants Smart? Well, I like them, yeah, they’re pretty sweet.” As I said this, I smiled. My approval lifted Smart’s spirits instantly and he put one arm around me. As we entered the shop linked at the hip, the two men behind the counter shielded their eyes from the glare of the pants. I took my hood off knowing my cover had been blown. Smart began to speak in Shona to the shopkeepers. I kept my eye on the bar scene. Six males had broken off from the main group and were stumbling toward the shop. For some reason I thought that if I pulled my hood back over my head it would make me more intimidating, so that is what I did. The six men stopped and stood outside the shop. Smart purchased the medicine for Mess and we turned to walk toward the exit. I began to strut like Snoop Dog in a music video, but to no avail. I knew that a confrontation was imminent. As we exited the shop all six men surrounded us.
“Ummm… Hullo.” Smart said. Silence. I could smell alcohol. Five out of the six guys were holding beer bottles like tomahawks. Smart was the only person in the group smiling. “This is it.” I thought, “This is how I am going to die. How embarrassing!” I frantically tried to think of a way to get away. I realized that I didn’t have anything to bribe them with. My wallet was in my jeans and my digital camera was back at Smart’s house. Smart began to talk furiously in Shona. One of the men, apparently the ringleader, cut him off abruptly. The ringleader was short and muscular. He was wearing a button down flannel shirt and what looked to me like black dress pants rolled up to his knee. As he spoke I noticed his lack of dental hygiene. His teeth were scarce in the front. The ones that were there were either dead or dying, brown, black and jagged. As I was waiting to die I also noticed that two of the other men were wearing identical jackets. Tattered and in disrepair they contained a crest in the upper right hand corner. Of the six men who had surrounded us, each one lacked a different article of clothing. One missing a shirt, one missing shoes and there was a guy who was missing pants as well. He was wearing nothing but white jockey-style underwear, a purple vest and only one Birkenstock sandal.
“Who ah you sa?” The ringleader spoke to me with disdain in his voice. I explained to him that my name was Brian and that I was staying with Smart for the night. I then asked him who he was. He told me that his name was Vivian. My grandmother’s name had been Vivian and as the ringleader continued I tried to keep a straight face. Vivian began to ask numerous questions about my connection with the hospital and Sister Kathy. I told him that I had been working in the hospital and that I was Sister’s friend. After the questions were over Vivian stumbled toward me getting two inches from my face.
“You are wit Sista, huh? You tink yo special? You will suffa tonight Brian.” He smelled so bad I had to hold my breath while he spoke. Vivian snapped his fingers and walked past me. Two of Vivian’s thugs took me by the arms and pulled me out of the light-filled street. We followed Vivian into the darkness. Smart followed right behind me with two escorts on either side of him. The guy without pants followed Smart, flanking our drunken parade. I looked down and noticed that one of the thugs who grabbed my arm wasn’t wearing shoes. His feet were calloused and dirty. We had been walking for ten minutes and I had lost all sense of direction. Turning down a small path flanked on either side by cotton plants, we began to make our way up to a group of huts. All the men were speaking in Shona but Smart was silent. As we reached one of the huts, a woman came out to meet us. Shocked at the spectacle before her she began arguing with Vivian. The fight did not last long. As soon as Vivian raised his voice she relented.
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