The boy sat down in silence with a serious expression on his face, clearly pondering a worrisome matter. The old man sitting opposite him sat on a small wooden stool, slowly chewing a sugarcane. He regarded the little boy with an amused expression in his eyes, but his outward appearance maintained his signature stern expression and rigid mannerism.
The old man was a man that many held with high regard and was well respected by many in the village. He was easily regarded as the wisest man in the village. The boy had come to see him, clearly to discuss a matter of grave concern. The old man was having a hard time concealing his amusement everytime he looked at the visibly distraught little boy.
News of what the boy was there to discuss had already reached him as the little boy had caused quite a stir. The old man looked at the little boy as he fidgeted, growing impatient of waiting for the old man to speak. Anger was seething from the little boy's fiery red eyes and his breathing was heavy with fury. Though growing impatient, the little boy maintained his patient silence. Custom dictated that the old man speak first.
The old man was enjoying tormenting the little boy, so he ate as slowly as possible while slowly petting his grey beard. Finally he spoke, "How is your father?", playing his game of testing the boy's patience some more.
"Fine", the boy curtly replied.
The old man decided to push the boy just a bit more. "..and your mother, how is she?".
"Fine, fine. Everyone is fine. My sisters, my brothers. They are all fine". The boy replied with haste trying to get the banalities out of the way.
"What is it that you are here for, Chidzukulu?"
"Agogo, you cant believe what Kape did today. I trusted Kape with all my heart. I have known Kape as my most trusted friend since I could walk." Tss. The boy tooted in the way that Africans do when they are upset by something.
"We went mice hunting today and I couldnt believe our good fortune." His eyes widened as he continued to tell his story in a manner most animated.
"We managed to catch 20 mice agogo. 20 mice".
The boy kept ranting. He ranted about how on their way home from the "hunt" they had seen the village bully called mani onyumwisa coming their direction from a distance. For fear of losing all the mice they had quickly buried them behind a short bush, and walked away feeling triumphant, each boy going in a different direction.
"Upon returning there to get the mice an hour later I found nothing there. There was nothing there, nothing". The boy exclaimed while driving his fist into the dirt ground, no longer able to contain himself. Dust rose upon impact. He regained control of himself and apologised.
"Forgive me. I lost myself. Allow me to continue".
The boy then went on to explain how upon returning to the village he went straight to look for Kape.
He narrated how he had gone to Kape's house but the first two times he went there his mother had told the boy that Kape was not there.
"I could easily tell that she was hiding him". The boy said with disbelieving despair.
"The third time I went there I found him
just sitting idle in his compound. Imagine he even had the audacity to smile at me as I approached."
The boy frowned with rage as he continued telling his "tragic" tale.
"When I found him I asked him whether he had taken the mice for safekeeping. He said he was sticking to the agreement that I was the one to collect. I explained to him that there was nothing there when I returned so it must be him who took them since he was the only other person who knew about the mice. Still he refused. Thats when I lost it and began fighting with him. I overcame him and gave him a proper serving, but he still refused to admit that he is the one who took the mice."
The old man could tell the boy's rage was peaking.
"I only stopped beating him when his mother and relatives intervened. Agogo, I am sorry to say that in my rage I acted without dignity and threw stones at them while running away. I still want my mice though. They are rightfully mine. I earned them and I shall have them, or there shall be atonement. What must I do Agogo, what must I do?"
The old man looked at him without speaking, his eyes fixed upon him in a deathly stare. The oldman could see the same fire that had boiled in his once youthful veins in the boy who sat before him, who was forgetting his place by looking at him directly in the eye as no boy must do according to their tradition.
"Let me tell you something. I myself have been a victim of many betrayals. In this life the people you place the most trust in will betray you. Life is not easy. It is a river with many turns and a shape most complex. The older you grow the more tragic the betrayals will become and your heart will grow tarnished but stronger. Men and women will betray you both alike. You yourself will betray many others to preserve yourself." He paused for a moment, as if reflecting upon a distant memory.
He then went on to tell the boy the stories of Eve and the serpent, Samson and Delilah, Jesus and Judas, Shaka and Dingaani, Kane and Abel and Sikusinja and Gwenembe.
"The closest and most trusted friends will drive their daggers in your heart the deepest. Contemplate on these words and meditate upon them daily but punish Kape no longer. Kape did not take your mice. I did. I saw you ditching "something" behind that bush but you did not see me. Out of curiosity, knowing the mischief that you have been getting into, I went to see what was there. When I found that it was mice I took them to your mother to prepare them for you. If it wasnt for me Mani Onyumwitsa would have taken all of them too, because he saw you even though you dont know that he saw you. So go now, apologise to Kape and invite him to have the mice you caught together as brothers." The old man man fished out a tobacco pipe and some tobacco wrapped in a brownish paper.
The boy was too stunned to move.
"Go now. Go enjoy your youth. Do not let this trouble you any longer. You will have enough time to worry about the worldly affairs of men, and remember the ones we suspect of committing great transgressions against us are not always guilty and we punish them unfairly".
The boy's feet felt heavy as he walked away, plagued by guilt and shame.
The oldman looked at the setting sun, breathed in the fresh air of the village, walked over to a swing chair and reclined in the seat, falling asleep with his tobacco pipe in his mouth.
