No Show

 The tour-guides led us towards the beginning of the ascent, their footsteps deliberate and sure. As we started our climb, the forest enveloped us in a cocoon of greenery, and the summer sun cast a warm, golden hue over everything. The air grew crisp yet carried a fragrant warmth, infused with the scent of earth and ancient wisdom. The journey up Ayotha promised not just physical elevation but a spiritual ascent into the heart of Rosina's natural sanctity, where the vibrant energy of summer matched the mood of our adventure.

I have always cherished summer, its long, sunlit days and the promise of memorable experiences. This day, my heart swelled with anticipation for this summer's journey, which I hoped would become a highlight of my life. The forest ahead was a lush tapestry of emerald green, with towering trees standing proudly in their full African summer glory. Their leaves, thick and vibrant, rustled gently in the warm breeze, casting playful shadows on the forest floor. The rich, dappled light filtered through the canopy, creating a mesmerizing dance of light and shade. Each tree seemed to whisper stories of ancient times, their branches adorned with clusters of leaves that shimmered like polished jade. The scent of blooming flora and the soft murmur of the summer breeze added to the enchantment, making every step feel like a step deeper into nature's most enchanting embrace.

Excitement bubbled within us, fuelled by the prospect of unravelling the enigmatic tales of Ayotha. The tour-guides, with their wealth of knowledge, became our companions on this sacred pilgrimage, ready to illuminate the path through the perpetual forests that adorned the majestic mountain. The anticipation hung in the air like a tangible force as we embarked on the expedition, eager to embrace the mysteries that Ayotha held in its enduring embrace. Our laughter echoed through the air as we ventured further into the heart of Ayotha, the dense woods enveloping us in a green embrace. Ivy's comment, a spark of humour amidst the towering trees, lingered in the air like a playful jest. "These woods are as dark as the grave," she remarked with a mischievous grin. Laughter erupted from our group, a symphony of joy that danced beneath the leafy canopy. In response to Ivy's declaration, I couldn't help but tease her. "How do you know the darkness of the grave?" I asked, my voice carrying a playful curiosity. The banter continued as we slid deeper into the woods, the vibrant hues of laughter becoming our guide through the dimly lit forest.

Our formation mirrored the procession of nature. Ivy trailed behind the first guide, her scepticism transformed into curiosity. Aidah led the way ahead of me, her steps confident on the uneven terrain. Mom and Dad followed closely, their presence a reassuring anchor behind me. The second tour-guide brought up the rear, a guardian of our collective journey into the mysteries of Ayotha. And before delving further into the mountain's secrets, we gathered in a clearing. The head tour-guide, a figure of authority and wisdom, addressed us with a warm yet commanding presence. The forest hummed with anticipation as he imparted the essential do's and don'ts for our venture into the sacred woods.

"Respect the woods, and the woods will respect you," he began, his voice carrying the weight of tradition and experience. "No swearing, and ignore the snakes – they're more afraid of you than you are of them." The guidance continued, a blend of practical advice and mystical wisdom. "Anything that looks like gold is not gold, and remember, no urinating or otherwise in the forest – we leave no trace. Follow the tracks, and do not wander in different directions. Unity is strength."

The gravity of his words resonated in the quiet pause that followed. The forest, though serene, held the potential for the unknown, and the tour-guide's counsel served as a compass for our journey into the heart of Ayotha. With a final nod from the guide, we embarked on the path ahead, our laughter now accompanied by a sense of reverence for the ancient secrets that awaited discovery within the perpetual embrace of the mountain woods.

"Ivyyyy!!! Aidahhhh!!! Maaaa!!!" My calls reverberated through the dense woods, each becoming a desperate plea that hung in the air like a haunting echo. Silence responded, an eerie stillness that intensified my growing sense of unease. Panic clawed at the edges of my consciousness as the realization set in – I was alone, and the familiar voices of my family remained elusive.

"Where is everyone? Please answer me!" I continued calling, the desperation in my voice now tinged with a chilling fear. The thick foliage absorbed my cries, leaving me stranded in a silence that seemed to swallow the very essence of my being. The shadows deepened around me, the once inviting woods now transformed into a labyrinth of uncertainty. My heart raced, its beats resonating with the footsteps of fear. It was chilling to be here alone, lost in the heart of Ayotha's mysterious woods. The dense canopy above cast a web of shadows, obscuring any semblance of direction. A disorienting fog settled over my thoughts, and the absence of familiar voices left me enveloped in a daunting solitude.

"Ivy! Aidah! Dadaaa!!!" The echoes of my calls dissolved into the vastness of the forest, unanswered. The once vibrant laughter and camaraderie now felt like distant memories, replaced by the haunting emptiness that surrounded me.

Amidst the palpable fear, my thoughts turned to my mother. Was she looking for me? What about Dad, Ivy, and Aidah? The imagined scenario of us all being lost and searching for each other sent shivers down my spine. The darkness of the woods became a metaphor for the unknown, and the absence of a reassuring response intensified my terror. As minutes passed like eternities, a harrowing realization struck me – perhaps I was the only one lost. The woods, once a source of wonder, now held an oppressive weight. The absence of any light at the end of this unseen tunnel of trees fuelled my anxiety, and the chilling silence became an oppressive force, squeezing the breath from my lungs.

The terror that gripped me was profound, an overwhelming sense of vulnerability in the face of the unknown. Ayotha's woods, once a canvas of adventure, now seemed like an impenetrable maze, and the lightness of laughter was replaced by the heavy burden of isolation. In the absence of familiar faces and comforting voices, I stood alone, a solitary figure in the heart of the mysterious mountain, grappling with the profound fear of being lost with no clear path to reunite with the ones I held dear.

As the darkness of the woods kept pressing in, my imagination began to spiral into the abyss of fear. I envisioned myself tumbling into a bottomless pit, a void where the echoes of my cries dissolved into the unknown. The spectre of guerrillas, born of the shadows, haunted my thoughts, and the fear of being lost forever consumed my senses. Alone in the suffocating silence, I allowed my emotions to surface. Soft sobs escaped my lips, a desperate symphony that played beneath the ancient boughs. I hesitated to cry out louder, afraid to awaken the unseen spirits that might lurk within the mountain's depths, but more terrified that my cries would remain unheard by any living soul.

In the midst of my despair, a sudden glimmer of hope appeared. A monkey materialized before me, its presence both startling and surreal. It beckoned, a silent invitation to follow. Desperation mingled with curiosity, and I obliged, believing the monkey might be my guide out of the perplexing thicket. The monkey, however, vanished as soon as I took my first step forward. In its absence, a spaghetti of snakes materialized before me, a serpentine labyrinth that froze me in my tracks. The woods, once a sheltering embrace, now seemed like a surreal nightmare. As I stood paralyzed, the atmosphere shifted. The darkness lifted, and the woods expanded into a heightened reality, as if the veil between dimensions had been lifted. Daylight flooded the space, revealing a peculiar sight beneath my feet – a single needle, fragile and inconspicuous.

Relief washed over me, and I naively thought this was my salvation. The absence of trees seemed like an escape from the oppressive thicket. Little did I know that the horror was just beginning to unfold. The silence shattered with an eerie sound, and a sinister presence emerged. The ground beneath me quivered as a legion of snakes writhed and slithered, a malevolent dance that entangled my surroundings. The once-clear path now became a trap, and the needle beneath my feet transformed into a harbinger of dread.

Fear gripped me anew as the forest, stripped of its familiar facade, revealed the grotesque reality that lurked beneath. The imagined escape turned into a nightmarish descent, and I found myself ensnared in the clutches of a surreal horror that transcended the boundaries of my imagination. In the face of the unexpected terror, I stood frozen, my hope shattered and replaced by an overwhelming sense of dread as the mysterious events in Ayotha took a dark and unforeseen turn.

The distant sight of what seemed to be a river teased me with the promise of relief. As I approached, the anticipation of quenching my thirst overpowered the despair that had gripped me moments before. The dense woods seemed to part, unveiling a stream that flowed steadily, a ribbon of hope weaving through the heart of Ayotha's mysterious woods. With each quickened step, the murmur of the stream became more audible, a melodic invitation to the life-giving liquid that awaited. But just as the prospect of rejuvenation drew near, a disconcerting sound reverberated through the air. It echoed like a boulder crashing onto the earth, and in that instant, a jolt of fear surged through me. I screamed and leaped back, my eyes snapping open to reality. However, the relief I had anticipated morphed into a chilling revelation. Instead of clear, refreshing water, I found myself standing in a pool of crimson liquid. The stream that seemed like the promise of life had transformed into a nightmarish flow of blood.

The shock paralyzed me, and I stared down at the eerie scene beneath my feet. The source of this macabre stream remained elusive, hidden within the twisted depths of the woods. I was frozen, a witness to a surreal tableau that defied the logic of the natural world. The blood-red stream seemed to flow from nowhere and disappear into the shadows, leaving me standing in a realm where the boundaries between reality and nightmare blurred. The disconcerting revelation added another layer of mystery to Ayotha's enigmatic woods, a puzzle that defied explanation. In the midst of the haunting silence, I stood alone, surrounded by the unsettling symbolism of a stream that mirrored the ominous secrets concealed within the heart of the mountain.

A fallen tree trunk cradled my defeated form as I sank into a state of surrender. The weight of powerlessness hung heavy in the air, and the invisible adversary seemed to hold dominion over the very essence of my being. The uneven battle, fought against an unseen enemy, left me with no tangible weapons, and the act of surrender felt like the only viable option. Yet, as I conceded defeat on the physical plane, a defiant spark flickered deep within me. In the midst of the oppressive darkness, I initiated a dialogue with my mum, Ingrid. Her name became a lifeline, a whispered mantra that echoed through the chambers of my consciousness. It was my way of affirming my existence, a plea for acknowledgment in the face of the unseen adversary.

Amidst the cacophony of the forest, I tuned out the unsettling sounds and concentrated solely on my imaginary conversation with Ma. In the quiet recesses of my mind, I conjured the subtle smile that graced her face in moments of encouragement. Imagining her presence made me strong, and the memory of her acknowledgment became a source of inner resilience. In my mind's eye, I reached out to grab her hand, a desperate attempt to anchor myself to a reality beyond the oppressive darkness. It was a symbolic gesture, a plea for her to pull me out of the labyrinth as she had done so many times before when faced with adversity.

The dialogue with Ma continued, my whispered words a testament to my determination to survive this surreal ordeal. I mouthed the words, fishing out the echoes of her voice from the depths of my soul, allowing them to guide me through the obscurity that surrounded me. In this moment of desperation, her imagined presence became a beacon of hope, a lifeline that transcended the boundaries of the physical world. Drawing on the sensory memories of her, I conjured the aroma of her Issey Miyake perfume. The familiar scent became a thread connecting me to her essence, a fragrance that led me through the darkness as I groped for a way out.

As I called out to her once again, my eyes remained tightly closed, shutting out the visual disorientation. In this heightened state of vulnerability, I walked blindly, each step a testament to the desperate search for a path out of the enigmatic abyss. The darkness became not only physical but also a metaphor for the emotional and psychological turmoil that gripped me, a relentless adversary that pushed the boundaries of my sanity. In this state of desperate yearning for rescue, my journey through Ayotha's mysterious woods became a solitary and tumultuous odyssey, with the imaginary presence of my mother serving as the flickering flame that refused to be extinguished in the face of the encroaching shadows.

The haunting echoes of "Nadiaaaa!" filled the air, distant yet growing nearer and stronger with each repetition. I lay motionless, my body worn down by the unforgiving trials of Ayotha's mysterious woods. The relentless call, however, spurred me into a faint response. "Ma!" I managed to utter, summoning just enough strength to open one eye, then the other. And there I was found!

My surroundings came into focus, and I was met with a shocking revelation. The vibrant yellow outfit that had once adorned me now lay in tatters, a patchwork of brown and torn fabric. Even my trusty tennis shoes had been spirited away by the enigmatic forces that governed this surreal realm. The world around me seemed to fade as they threw a heat reflective blanket over me, a feeble attempt to ward off the chill that clung to my wearied form.

Hysterical cries erupted from my lips as the crushing realization sank in—I, Nadia, had been lost in the heart of Ayotha for more than four months. The desperate searches, carried out with fervent urgency, had yielded nothing. Helicopters had scoured the landscape, yet the mountain held its secrets close, concealing the fates of Aidah and Ivy, my companions on this harrowing journey. My parents recounted the ordeal, detailing how they had searched tirelessly after discovering we were missing and how their determination had gradually waned as time passed. Four months later, I emerged from the wilderness as if from a dark cave, a solitary figure marked by the trials of my extended summer ordeal.

The passage of time had left its indelible mark. My once-vibrant outfit, a symbol of resilience, now bore witness to the trials of the unknown. The tears and rips in the fabric mirrored the emotional scars etched upon my soul. Wrapped in the blanket, I felt a mix of relief and sorrow. Relief that I had been found, but sorrow that Aidah and Ivy remained elusive, swallowed by the inscrutable depths of Ayotha.

The realization struck with a crushing weight—my desperate calls, the searches, the relentless pursuit of hope had not reunited me with my lost companions. I was the lone young survivor of a journey that had left scars too deep to heal. The mountain had claimed its victims, and my heart ached for the two who had not emerged from the shadows after those long, agonizing months. Each day, as the sun rose and set, I silently called out to Aidah and Ivy in my heart. The hope flickered like a distant flame, but it refused to be extinguished. I cried softly, my tears mingling with the echoes of Ayotha's mysteries. It was a sorrowful symphony, a lament for the friend and sister who had ventured into the unknown and never returned.

As the episode of my life unfolded, my heart grew heavy with the weight of unanswered questions. Why was I the only one found? What unseen forces had conspired to separate us? The mountain, once a symbol of wonder, now loomed as a sombre memorial to the friends who had ventured into its embrace and never emerged. Today, as I reflect on the passing years, the grief is palpable. Aidah should have turned 60, an age she never reached, lost at the tender age of 16. Ivy, who should have celebrated her 55th birthday, became a phantom of the past. The mountain, relentless and indifferent, devoured them, leaving behind an emptiness that time could not erase.

The world moved on, but my heart remained entwined with the memories of those lost months. The sorrow clung to me, a shadow that followed my every step. The finality of their disappearance, the void left by their absence, was a wound that refused to heal. Ayotha's mysteries became a haunting melody, playing softly in the recesses of my mind. The story had reached its sombre conclusion, leaving me with a heart heavy with unanswered questions and a soul forever entangled with the enigmatic mountain that had become a tomb for those lost in its depths.

Dedicated to the memory of my dear friend and classmate, Ruwa, who vanished, without a trace during a family vacation to the enchanting Inyangani Mountain in Eastern Zimbabwe, 1981. ~ndai~