FEAT OF FATE

Yes, I killed him! But I honestly had no intention of killing him. Believe me, I did not because I am not a criminal, and neither do I hail from a family of criminals. My father was a full time church elder who dedicated his entire life to doing his best for humanity. He preached love and urged everyone to love not only their friends but also their foes. He considered love to be the best tool for human reconstruction. It never occurred to him to ever contemplate destruction as he always thought that those who used their time to design weapons of mass destruction were less human by both nature and conception.

Our family earned whatever we had through hard work. We had no qualms in making our hands dirty with laborious tasks if that was the noblest way of filling our bellies and we were very proud of that. At no time did they encourage me their only offspring to beg as beggary was a bag of shame to them. Life, however was not always Rosy as it's thorns took a severe tore of suffocating even the good intentions that my father held dear at times. The fact that we dwelt in an area that lacked what could be referred to as plenty in every aspect encouraged my family to work extremely hard.

Lovemore was the name given to me by my paternal Uncle, my father's only brother Steve just few minutes after I was born. My father Jackson Songolo did not protest even when it was within his right to do so as our culture demanded that the name of the first child be given by the biological father as a way of acknowledging parternity. The only reason my father accepted the name was that it depicted the values he held dear, which was to love people more regardless of who they were.

The day when my father never woke up marked the beginning of misery to our family. Still, it never diluted the values he had laboured so much to entrench. Like a bad dream, we all heard the wailing from the main house, and I personally thought my father had beaten my mother for the first time. The only justification I had for thinking like that was the fact that he was only human. I knew just like everyone else that he was not a violent man and had no traces of cruelty in his nature. Hearing my mother crying on top of her voice perplexed me. I came out of my hut on a trot, by the time I was reaching the main house, a good number of neighbours had already gathered to mourn my father. I tried to convince myself that it was not true even when I had never in my life seen such a scenario turning out otherwise. I even knew too well that death was part of reality but was filled with the phobia of facing the consequences of what tomorrow was to bring in a fatherless life. The only world I had known up to that very point was the one created by my father. Without him, I foresaw the world crumbling down and falling on me like a tonne of bricks. I never thought I would survive.

Within a month after my father's death, Uncle Steve came back to the village to pick me up. I was elated to see a sky blue Nissan Datsun 120Y turn to our village. We were playing soccer with my friends in the village square when this happened. We quickly abandoned the game and ran after my uncle's car. He saw a group of us in the mirror and stopped the car, came out, hugged and told me that he had come to pick me to go with him to Kitwe a Copper belt town of Zambia in the Southern part of Africa.

I was filled with joy and gratitude when we undertook the journey. My uncle was just as loving and caring as his late elder brother. I enjoyed everything we did along the way which included having delicious meals in splash and posh restaurants and learning both table manners and etiquettes.

We reached Kitwe late at night after 21 hours. The family was awake and just waiting for our arrival. My auntie ran to hug her husband just as we entered the house. I was just shocked that in the full view of the four of their children and myself, my auntie dared to kiss her husband on the mouth. I was ashamed to see their tongues locking. Immediately, I began to wonder if the manners my uncle labored so much to inculcate in me during our journey from the village were applicable in his home. The only uncle's daughter Musete ran and hugged me. I was worried that she was going to behave like her mother and kiss me, but she did not.

After supper, all the members of the family trooped to the Television room, and uncle invited me to join them. I was particularly shocked to see real faces on television. I ended up asking uncle if the people we were watching were inside the TV set. He was delighted that I declared my ignorance openly and took time to educate me on modern gadgets,although he did not go into details.

This was truly the beginning of my golden life after the demise of my father. My first day at School was like a dream come true. I met a lot of new friends, both boys and girls and all of them behaved as though we had known each other for years. This act of benevolence made me feel accepted and I had no reason to miss my village and my beloved mother. I was enrolled in grade two, even though I had never been to grade one. This was done because I was advance in age. At that time I was eleven years old. Much as I expected to face challenges academically, my young cousins at home did their best to update me and made sure I learnt everything. The six years I did my Primary Education looked like just a year because life was indeed exciting. Even if I at times missed my mother, I had no means of communicating with her and I gave up the hope and opted to enjoy what town life offered me.

Friday the 13th of December, marked the turning point when the feat of fate visited me like it did to my mother when my father died suddenly in the village. The evening of that day, my uncle knocked off late from the office and found all of us sitting before the TV set watching a movie. He joined and immediately addressed the family by telling us that the entire family will be proceeding to Livingstone the following day on holiday which had been sponsored by his Bank. He asked me to remain behind and take care of the house with the help of the maid. He apologized for leaving me behind. I assured him that it was fine and I was comfortable with the idea.

The following day on Saturday at 10:00 hours, I sat to watch mid-morning news and was suddenly greeted with the most terrible news of my life time when in the middle of the caste the reader mentioned the sad news just received. He informed the nation that Steve Songolo the Branch Manager of National Savings Bank in Kitwe together with the entire family perished in a road traffic accident on his way to Livingstone. The accident happened near Mulungushi University at Mulungushi river bridge when the car he was driving rammed into a stationary truck parked at the bridge.

I ran out of the house even before the sad news was fully delivered. I was confused and did not know what to do and later on where to go. My mind was clouded; I just wanted to be mad to rest in the fortitude of being abnormal so that I hide from the consequences of reality where I had no place anymore. That was how I found myself at Chisokone market picking food from the dustbins and that marked the end of my prime life.

I told myself to forget everything and did not even attend my uncle's burial. Up to this time, I do not know how his estate is being managed.

One afternoon a student that disembarked from a minibus coming from Kalulushi identified and called me by my name. "Lovemore!" She called out to me. I tried to pretend but she came closer and asked what was wrong with me. I took her aside and explained my ordeal, and she was very sorry for me. She took me in, cleaned me up and provided a roof over my head even though she was just a student at Catholic University. When she returned back to school, she left me in her apartment and promised to connect me so that I start normal life which I truly appreciated.

On the third day after our reunion, she called to tell me that she had hooked a big fish with a lot of money that can give me a fresh start. She said he was a retiree from the Mines who had withdrawn his entire pension and was carrying it in the car. She directed me to meet with them in the early hours of Sunday around 02:00 hours in Kapoto Compound, her parent's home area. She asked me to prepare a knife to scare him so that I could grab the money. She assured me that there would be no violence so long as I played my cards right and that the capital I had been looking for was now within my reach. The thoughts of looking for means to get back to my village with the hope of joining my mother if she was still alive gave me the courage to try the only option available.

I saw a grey VW Golf car driving in the same direction and squeezed myself behind the tree and waited for the vehicle to stop.

Immediately the car halted, I rushed to the driver's car window. I flashed the knife and directed him to give one hundred bucks or Rialto be stabbed. Without even being scared, the driver opened the door, came out of the car and charged at me. He obviously did that to prove to the girl friend that he was man enough. Doing what I had not anticipated left me with no option but to defend myself, and this was only possible by stabbing him. I did just that, and the knife went straight to the left side of his chest. He flinched but without screaming. I saw a stream of blood come from his chest, but then he ran back to his car and drove away. Merely one hundred meters and the car stopped. I ran to the car but only to find the man had collapsed on the driving wheel. I was then pissed up after realizing the type of crime I had committed. I developed a burning desire to punish the girl that pushed me into committing a heinous crime. I got her out of the car and raped her repeatedly and now am wondering what to do as I wait for the Police to arrest me. The chances of going back home are completely shuttered. This to me is just a feat of fate, what do you think?