Click here if you didn’t read Part One
‘Get some strong sticks’ Carl requested
‘Strong…? Are those not strong?’
‘Strong enough to burrow the soil’
‘Okay’ Liz responded as she bent plucking and picking the fallen rods of firewood. She was humming her favorite song.
Carl was digging the graves of their two sons, Greg and Colly. They had only noticed by the lockets on their necks they had bought during birthdays. Liz was busy fetching sticks to excavate the soil. They were no ‘jembes’ or ‘pangas’ around.
After some hours the grave was ready. It was just a minimal trench that would fit the remains of the two sons. As they carried the sooty-grotesque bodies, tears from Liz eyes dripped.
‘Hold the lower part of the limbs as I hold this upper side.’ Carl said as he held the fluffy part of the head.
As they reached the grave like structure, Carl positioned the head down slowly and gazed at Liz.
‘Put it down slowly’
They buried their sons in the island. They pushed the soil back to the grave. They lay wild flowers which Liz had plucked from a certain bush. She sat on a certain granitic rock and stared at Carl. She remembered of her huge house in Washington D.C. where there were teeming city streets, glass skyscrapers, glitters and glitz and also the luxurious landscapes.
‘Was life made to be like this? We have lost our sons. They are barely 16yrs. What a life?’ Liz questioned as she gazed above.
‘Problems come in life Liz. This one was unexpected. You should even thank God for saving your life. You are alive and kicking.’ Carl responded
‘Its…’Liz was cut short
‘That doesn’t mean am not sobbing the death of our sons. I’m also grieving their loss’ he said as he squatted on the grassy area.
‘Carl, why aren’t you sad, I see you smiling; no sad face; is there something you are keeping behind my ass? Liz asked.
‘Honey, men are always jovial; by the way do you see men crying in burial?’
‘To some extent, I don’t. But don’t you feel pain for your own flesh and blood? Did their demise mean anything to you?’ Liz questioned holding her chin.
‘As a man, I feel it in my heart, but I can’t bear showing it physically like you do. Just don’t be angst-ridden.’ He responded
[THE DANGEROUS LIVES OF LONG DISTANCE TRUCK DRIVERS ]
Mombasa (Kwakiziwi Region)
Issa rolled on his king-sized bed with a bat’s eye and stretched his arm to the left switching off the noisy alarm. The time was 2am on Wednesday morning. His right hand was numb due to the spooning posture he had lain with his wife Alika. Alika in Swahili means ‘most beautiful’. He stealthy removed his arm from his wife’s bosom and sat on the bed; His feet touching the cold linoleum floor. He needed to be on his truck by 3am to kick off the long journey to Uganda. He was a truck driver whose return to home formulae had been critically disorganized. The last time he had managed to be home was 3 months ago. He had just arrived the previous night to meet his family; wife and two kids who are in nursery school. He had not even spent 24hrs at his vicinity. He was now getting ready to take off. Before he got out of the bed, Alika, his wife, tagged him using her leg.
‘Hey Babe? What’s up?’ she asked as she rubbed her eyes due to the effect of the bright fluorescent tube above them.
‘I have to be going. This is what we live on. It’s where I get my income.’ He responded as he stretched his hand and beckoned Alika to come closer. She was accustomed to these kind messages for some time now. She could not imagine the solitude-ness and how hard it was to stay without her husband for months. She had survived all the times. She felt it as a heavy burden on her. All in all, she had to agree to that fact.
The Hombres in Negro Veils
The time was 10am.
I was seated silently at my favorite corner inside the library. My long A4 books and fancy notebook together with those rare fancy biros you receive when you attend a conference at the likes of Kempinski Hotels; were just in front of me on top of the table. I was strategically placed such that I would view every corner of the entire huge library. I was the kind of person who got easily distracted when someone got up from their seats or when they started walking around the library. I kept peeping on them.
The structure of the library was big. It was 6 stories. I was in the Biology department which was situated in the 4th floor. Mind you, it was a spacious hall. As a biology body, it had various artifacts that made it wonderful and beautiful. The hall had an aquarium where different kind of fish swum, there were two huge man-made human skeletons on the sides and also some enclosed algae plantations still inside the library. The hall had in addition, 360 rotating executive seats. The long windows and numerous fans made the massive hall conducive for learning activities despite the large number of readers who were seated doing their et cetera. At the very entrance, long alternating shelves lined up the walls of the entrance showcasing the numerous books in store for us at the library, forming some kind of an aisle that led inside the 4th floor.
[THE RESCUE MISSION]
PART ONE: KAREN: THE UNDISPUTED KIDNAP
PART TWO: KAREN: THE UNDISPUTED KIDNAP
Karen had been kidnapped. Her three friends Clare, Kate and Sharon have vowed to rescue her from the hands of the cruel bastards who took advantage of her lucrative body. The tri-squad could not even try to adjust their senses to imagine what could be happening to her. All they hoped for was for her to be alive and kicking. They had to plan for the rescue mission.
That night, they did not report to their respective homes. Clare, Kate and Sharon had a plan to engage in some dirty duties done by the call girls hoping they would bore fruits in rescuing their friend Karen. A friend of Clare by name Jake had agreed to harbor them in his vicinity as they made plans on how they would execute their plan. They drove to Jake’s house and after they had chitchat in this and that, they sat on the circular lighted-gazebo, which was built architecturally to suit the midnight meat wolfers’. Jake offered to help them in their plans but they turned down his offer at first.
‘We will do it our way’, Clare Responded. ‘This is our mission remember?’ she squinted her left eye as she gave him a soundly peck. Jake gazed at her for some time before he went ahead to prepare a balefire that would keep the warm for the night. The time was at 8pm. Darkness had enveloped the entire of the horizon. The sky was full of stars; both the dimming and the shinning ones. The crickets and frogs could be heard on the outside as they made their noises. The cool breeze would sweep the air around them occasionally making the whole humidity optimum for human survival. It was beautiful. They slowly converged at the balefire and commenced the plan.
After about 15 minutes, they all rose from the wooden seats and each of them rushed in different routes around the homestead. Each got back with some weird looking club attire. The ladies were all glam. You would confuse them with those brothel ladies who wear to impress anyone who got the cash to squander on them as they roughly devour them. Their current look would liquefy the heart that those shy men hold deep in their inner spirit. Sharon, though looking like she was in her birth-suit, did not like it. She felt naked. she kept looking at herself plastering that woebegone impression on her face. Her thighs had never been exposed like that publicly before.