No sooner had I hit the bed than I remembered I had forgotten to lock the door. The children were all asleep. Mai VaMaidei was on the bed but still awake. She was not happy that I had arrived a bit late from Zororo Bar.
The evening had started well until my friends started do disappear one by one.
First to give an excuse was Baba VaTata, then Rasta who immediately ran after Baba VaTata.
Fatso just vanished. I left shortly afterwards.
It was dark outside as this was the third straight day without electricity.
I was just about to go and lock the door when I heard the front door creak open.
Keep Reading
- Ghetto dances: When love of money goes beyond bounds of sanctity
- Wynn targets medal winning swansong at Troutbeck
- International athletes troop in for Africa Triathlon Cup
- Ghetto dances: The long walk back home and I bumped into Rasta
“Who is it?” I said.
There was dead silence. Immediately after that I heard some movement.
“Is that you Maidei?” I called out to my daughter. The silence was even more silent.
The children were sleeping in the kitchen as usual and movement was coming from there.
By now Mai VaMaidei was clinging to me. I was beginning to think that something was horribly wrong.
There was an intruder in the house. And only last week, thieves had broken in our neighbour's house while Baba Svinurai and Mai Svinurai were sleeping. They got away with household goods and their 55 inch smart tv which they had just bought the previous month.
And to make matters worse, I was half- naked and defenceless
Someone was prowling around in the next room. One of the kitchen chairs was moved to one side. Oftentimes on movies you see people dialing 911.
I wish that was easy in real life. I was a bundle of fear. I realized that there were two or more people moving around in the kitchen. It was just a matter of time before they entered our room.
I tried to look for a weapon to defend ourselves with. There was nothing that I could use as a weapon. I was ill-prepared to deal with this type of danger.
Mai VaMaidei tried to whisper something to me.
“Sssh, keep quiet,” I said. My voice was a bit husky with fear.
What was happening in the next room? Were my children safe?
Even if I tried to phone for help the intruders would hear me.
By now the sound and movements in the next room were more pronounced.
I felt like there was a lump that was lodged in my throat. Fear has a way of getting at people.
Even me who always appeared to be brave in a crowd was terrified sick.
And then out of the blues, lights came on. I did not know whether this was a good omen or not. Then just at that moment Mai VaMaidei did the unexpected. Even before I could restrain her she rushed to the kitchen.
I had no choice but to follow only to get the surprise of my life.
“Happy Birthday!!!”
I tried to retreat back to the bedroom but it was too late. All my friends were present, Baba VaTata, Fatso, Rasta and some of my wife's friends.
All my children whom I had thought were asleep all came to hug me.
Zvazviri, our local photographer was already busy taking photographs and when you live in a community like ours, life becomes sweet and at times like this, hardships are forgotten.
When emotions get the better of you, you don’t know whether to cry or laugh but I was thrilled to the bone.
I stood half-naked, torn between crying and celebrating.
My wife with the help of my friends had organised a surprise birthday party for me. My wife was holding the cake which looked fantastic, decorated in red and white. This was a moment I could cherish forever.
- Onie Ndoro is a an IELTS tutor, ghostwriter and storyteller. For feedback: X@Onie90396982/email:oniendoroh@gmail.com 0773007173