Missed Opportunity

MISSED OPPORTUNITY

"This was supposed to be the happiest day of their lives." These words were spoken by an aged war veteran. He had just taken few sips of coffee before he uttered those words and in no time his eyes closed.

Mr Covax Peter Mutale known simply as CPM was an old man who fought in the second world War under the British Protectorate Forces from Southern Africa. He spent months in Burma and when he returned in 1949 he spent sometime in Mombasa, Kenya and Johannesburg, South Africa. He only returned home in 1955, and interesting enough, his home coming was received with a wedding cerebration of his second born daughter Chipasha.

Six months following his return, Mr Covax Peter Mutale got a job in a colonial government ministry where he worked for many years. In an independent Zambia he was retained in the ministry of information where he worked until his retirement in 2010. He was very helpful to many of his tribesmen. He managed to place them in different job positions depending with the kind of qualifications one held.

He was one of the few Bemba speaking men from his village who owned so much properties in Lusaka and Ndola towns. Before the modern shopping malls became common Mr Mutale already had four in Ndola and seven in Lusaka. Besides the shopping complexes he had big homes; mansions rented out to diplomats and expatriates. His income kept soaring every month. All his children were each given a house to stay in and transfered ownership to each one of the nine children.

When he went to work in Ndola in the Copperbelt Province of Zambia, he separated from his wife for more than six years. During that time his wife bore three children from another man.

When the nine children were given each a house, the three were not given any. They however, stayed at one of the houses which was believed to have been bought by their mother.

One of the three foster children had interest in performing arts and could write good poetry. She was a beautiful and very quiet looking young lady who was loved by many. While the oldest sister and the older brother could spend some time complaining about their lot in life, Emily the quiet girl never complained at all. She was a girl who did not seem to be aware that her real father was not Mr Mutale. At school and in social life she was known as Emily Mutale. She was even very passionate about her father, Mr Mutale and highly talked about him with friends and others.

During one of his good days at work, Mr Mutale got a surprise when he received an anonymous card wishing him well. Attached to the card was a note; a poem which was only signed as 'Love, your lovely daughter'.

He had four daughters and none of them was named Love. The poem was in typed print so there was no handwriting to help him know to whom it belonged. What he was sure about was that the poem was written by one of his daughters but who in particular wrote the poem? That was a puzzle. The last stanza in that poem read:

"As I end I'm serious and not bluffing

Don't ask about this nor show this piece

Don't thank me or say anything

Because I'm your daughter and not your niece".

That was the exact problem he was facing, he was warned not to ask about the poem. He was also warned not to thank the daughter for the poem. So he had to use other investigative means to find the writer. The other thought he fought with was from the last line that read, 'Because I'm your daughter and not your niece'. He wondered whether the writer was one of the nieces.

Mr Covax Mutale had a young brother and sister who both had daughters. One of his sister's daughters went to Glasgow University in the United Kingdom, and was working as a lecturer at one of the private Universities in South Africa. He wondered whether she could be the writer who could say, ".... I'm your daughter and not your niece". He ruled her out because there was no reason for her to claim that Mr Mutale was her father when the father was really there and was supportive of his family.

For two solid months the war veteran, Mr Mutale failed to figure out the writer of the poem. One day Chuma Chaponda Daka decided to meet the family of Emily Mutale whom he was courting for almost a year. Earlier when dory was paid he was not on the entourage of elders who met the family. Now a party called "chilanga mulilo" was arranged. The "chilanga mulilo" party is common in Zambia and literally means "show the fire". It entails that the lady being given in marriage should prove to the would be husband's family that she is able to cook whatever dish there is, from traditional to exotic dishes. During "chilanga mulilo" party the family from the woman's side help out in preparing assorted types of foods to show exactly what to expect once they got married.

The party started early on a Saturday morning and a lot of entertainment was arranged. Mr Mutale arrived home at 02.00 hrs on Saturday from Lochinvar National Park where he went to kill some Kudu; the pledge he made as contribution for the party. So he woke up late and found the people had already gathered.

He walked quietly around the venue like an inspector who was making sure that everything was in order. The venue was one of his spacious houses in a suburb called 'Avondale' in Lusaka. In one of the rooms young ladies were chatting and sharing experiences and Emily was among them. Mr Mutale peeped from the entrance way and waved at the young ladies. When Emily caught sight of him she quickly got up and called out, "Dad! Dad!" She rushed out to meet him. Mr Mutale heard her calling so he turned around and met her just as she was coming out of the room. She threw her arms around her father's neck like passionate lovers while she asked, "I missed you, what time did you arrive?"

Although he did not give her any house Mr Mutale always considered Emily as the last born in his family. Truly she was the last born and youngest. She was a happy young lady as she was approaching her wedding day.

" Don't worry darling, " her father began to speak, "I'm very much alright and around. Your cousins and I went to kill Kudus for this occasion in Monze but we are back and set for your party."

"OK," she acknowledged, "I really miss you when I don't see you or hear from you for a day." She held him by his hand with both of her hands and spoke, "dad your youngest daughter is now grown." She paused and continued, "don't thank me for anything I do for I'm your daughter and not your niece. Daughters should not be thanked but embraced." 

That was the time Mr Mutale remembered the words of the poem attached to the postcard: "Don't thank me.... I'm your daughter and not your niece". Those words rung through Mr Mutale's minds several times. It then appealed to him that Emily was definitely the one who wrote the poem. When he went to the office he got the card and read it with more understanding than before. The card in its original writings said:

      To My Dad

       With Best Wishes

      May All Your Days Be

       Blessed. 

The card was signed with the name:"Love, your lovely daughter". 

Then a poem was attached which went as follows:

         DAD 

You are my own loving dad

Known through all my life

Besides you none can add

Even if I should be a wife. 

Your care, concern, smiles and love

None known and unknown can give

A dad who caused my birth I have

I'll stick to dad and not leave. 

Your sacrifices and love are all known

You suffered and died many times for me too

Even when you went to war I was your own

The way you toiled for us my turn too is due. 

Satisfied I'm, I'll lack nothing 

Don't ask about this nor show this piece

Don't thank me or say anything

Because I'm your daughter and not your niece. 

Love, your lovely daughter. 

Mr Covax Peter Mutale loved the poem and the card to which it was attached. Even after retirement the card rested just in front of his desk in his private office. One would not really differentiate its importance from the war veteran medals that hang on the side of one wall. 

By the time Mr Covax Peter Mutale was officially retiring from active working in 2010 he was eighty seven years. In 1945 when he was picked to go to war he was a young energetic man of only twenty - two years. Four years after his retirement his health was failing him and most of the time he required assistance in most of the daily activities. 

Emily never missed a day to check on her dad no matter what time it was. She had four nurses and a doctor who took turns to make sure he was kicking and breathing. 

Mr Covax Peter Mutale had just signed some documents using his lawyer to hand over one of the mansions which served as his home with his late wife. That was the mansion where the wife was found dead one bad morning after having gone to sleep the previous night without any complaint. 

He had given the papers to Peggy the eldest sister to Emily and Stan. The mansion was, according to Mr Mutale, an entitlement to the three children fathered by the other man. Emily the youngest of the three found time to talk to her older brother Stan and sister Peggy suggesting that the mansion be sold in order for her two siblings to realise the money they badly needed. It was agreed upon and a buyer was found. It was sold. Emily did not get anything from the sale of the mansion for she was comfortably settled with her husband Chuma Chaponda Daka. Chaponda was an expert entrepreneur dealing in real estate. He and his wife jointly owned three malls which housed two four - star hotels in Livingstone and Lusaka. 

Emily had just seen her father in the afternoon but now she received a message that her father was unwell and was taken to the hospital. She rushed there and found everyone already there including Peggy and Stan. No sooner had she entered the highcost fee paying admission ward where her father was than he opened his eyes and began to speak. 

"Did you like the mansion Peggy?" were the first words that came from Mr Mutale. Peggy looked up then quickly looked at Stan and Emily. The one who answered and answered differently was Emily. 

"How are you feeling dad?" she softly asked, gently rubbing her hand on her dad's forehead. 

"I am not fine my daughter," he replied although he looked much better. "I feel so stiff. I don't know if I will survive this barrage of fire." 

"Oh dad," Emily cut in quickly, "the barrage of fire ended in 1949 when you survived the second world War." 

Everyone could see a smile on Mr Mutale's face. "Oh yes," he raised his finger to indicate some direction. Then he continued, "at that time fire could come from all Directions. I could crawl like a grasshopper while bullets kept ripping tree branches above my head." He coughed. 

"OK it's fine dad," said Emily trying to make him feel more relaxed. "That's how we want you to survive even now." She poured some coffee in a cup, made him sit properly and helped him take some sips. 

"Well my three children did you like the mansion?" He repeated his earlier question. 

Peggy came in and answered, "yes dad, we like it". 

"That's beautiful," he responded. "In an attic of the main bedroom I kept two 60kg bars of pure gold," he said with a smile. "Get it for it will give you the kind of money you'll never have in all your life's time." 

The three just looked at each other without knowing what to say next. 

Emily whispered as her words fused through her clenched teeth, "we've sold it." 

"What my daughter?" asked her father. He heard what Emily said. "Oh my children," at this point he seemed to address the other children. "This was supposed to be the happiest day of their lives!" His eyes closed and the heart beat started reducing. Panic took control then the doctor arrived. 

The three; Peggy, Stan and Emily stood stuck still like a statute of Liberty. Unfortunately for them they did not represent freedom, for they just missed an opportunity to be the richest people in the country. 

A stretcher squeaked as it negotiated a turn into the ward. The ward was in total silence. It was as if a dense cloud of sorrow had just descended on the family. As they slowly followed behind the stretcher, Stan pulled his sisters towards himself and whispered something then he rushed in a different direction like a misfired bullet. He crazily drove his car for about an hour. People were busy renovating the part of the mansion that contained the main bedroom. He pushed the gate and entered the yard where the mansion they had just sold was located but.... by then it was too late. 

Original based on prompt 4.

Written by :Lawrence Nkwazi 

Address.  :House no. 061, 

          Old Macha Rd., 

          Riverside, 

          Choma. 

          Zambia. 

Word Count: 2,319

Estimated Reading Time:  

           00.09.16hrs.