THEME: KNOCK YOURSELF OUT
TITLE: Silent Ears
Written by Clever “DBharo” Mukanya
Chapter 1
On a Wednesday morning, I arrived at the heart of Rustenburg city and headed to a branch of Mukuru where remittances from other countries are received. There was no queue, so I quickly got served by a young lady calling herself Chipo.
I grinned and thanked the sister as I immediately left the office. I was floating with joy because my brother Kelvin in the UAE had sent me R6000.
My wallet was full, so I thought of sauntering and having a look around the shops. I didn’t need much that day as I would do most of my shopping during the school opening.
I landed at an unusual corner where a brazen-faced hulk appeared ahead of me, with a cigar in hand. He was wearing a white beret, a red vest, and a leaf-colored jacket half-buttoned. He was covered all in black. Judging by his appearance, I assumed this man was an outsider, just like me.
I averted my eyes in fear, thinking that maybe this man was in the army. His red eyes silenced my thoughts; perhaps he was among other vicious yobbos. My fear grew, causing my confidence to rapidly dwindle, and I lowered my face with a gentle sigh.
The hulk continued to stare at me from head to toe. I pretended to answer a call and took a few steps forward. I reached another corner and quickly headed west. I walked blindly with other pedestrians toward the taxi rank, passing a crowded corridor of vendors.
Instantly, my heart flooded with relief when I heard touts shouting, “Only one Moruleng left.” I breathed heavily, feeling my heart race.
“Hey, mister! Are you going? Take your taxi, mister.”
I responded, “Yes boss, I’m going to Moruleng,” which confused everyone as to whether the voice came from me or the hawkers.
“That’s your taxi, mister. Get in.”
The taxi moved quickly and reached a fast-food shop where it parked directly across from it. The driver and conductor hurriedly got out and joined the queue. We passengers stayed inside, though a few got out to get some fresh air.
A handsome man in a grey suit approached in front of our taxi, looking elegant. I silently observed him and thought he might be a renowned pastor from the local churches. A few steps away, the man asked in a soft voice.
Another passenger nodded his head to confirm that it was the right taxi I was in. The man in the grey suit boarded and asked me if he could sit by the window. However, I followed our tradition of respecting elders, as I am accustomed to. The man pulled out a white handkerchief and gently wiped his face. He neatly folded it and returned it to his front pocket.
As I tried to study him more, the driver and conductor returned hastily and got back into the taxi. Right behind them, the same brazen-faced hulk I had encountered earlier followed. His appearance clearly indicated that he was familiar with the gym. Quakes formed wherever he stepped.
The hulk boarded and sat quietly on my left, making the three of us in this seat. As it got stuffy, I felt uncomfortable being squeezed and suffocated — it was hot and airless. I felt like a toad in the middle of a stack of hay. Shortly after, the conductor shouted, “Right! It’s time for us to leave the city,” as he slammed the door shut.
Chapter 2
The Amapiano beats resonated in our ears, the music embodying the vibe that had swept across the continent. The driver steered the taxi as it eased into motion. As two female police officers approached, the conductor quickly settled into a seat. He used slang deeply, so it took me a while to grasp his words.
“Oh, cops!” he chuckled. “What’s the use of having corrupt cops when they’re involved in everything?”
Our laughter was uproarious, leaving only one person untouched by the mirth. “Eh parents and midwives, I’m facing a small issue with my pockets—they’re feeling rather empty. So, I kindly request that you settle your fares before we depart the city. Is that agreeable, my elders?”
His voice brimmed with enthusiasm. “Yes! This way, our journey shall be eternally blessed. We never know when these corrupt cops will cease their extortion in this country. Soon everyone might be driven to criminal acts. Who’s with me on this?”
Silence followed; no one else spoke up. All except for the hulking figure and the man who resembled a pastor were not ready with their fares. The conductor asked, “What about you, sir in the grey suit?” The man replied calmly, “Ah, don’t worry, my friend. I find myself in such tight quarters that I can’t access my wallet.”
The conductor’s expression turned stern. “No, sir! Are you suggesting you’ll travel without paying?” The man responded, maintaining his composure.
“Of course I’ll pay. It’s just that space is so limited that I can’t retrieve my money right now. But if some room opens up, you’ll get your payment. It’s a pressing matter, my good man.”
The conductor let out a sigh. “Alright, then! So, who else hasn’t paid?”
I noticed the hulking figure pointing in my direction. A frown formed on my face, even though his gesture perplexed me. “Eh… Monkeyman, pay up and let’s get going. Sir, we’re on a tight schedule. Doesn’t everyone realize that?”
I replied, my voice laced with both hurt and apprehension, “Conductor, I’ve already settled my fare. Elders, did you not see me pass some notes to those in front of us?” I scanned the faces around me, hoping for someone to defend me against this unjust accusation that weighed heavily on me.
“No, no!” the man in the grey suit waved it off. Anger surged within me, nearly overflowing. “Monkeyman, pay your fare so we can move. You do want to reach home, don’t you? Huh!” I struggled to find the words to respond. If flies were on a daytime mission, they’d have been caught in my open mouth.
Tears welled in my eyes as a flood of grief engulfed me. I lost my ability to meet the gaze of my fellow passengers, my head hanging low, gasping for air. Finally, I retrieved a hundred rand note and handed it to the conductor.
“Quietly and smoothly! You see now, Monkeyman. You’ve proven yourself braver than most. You’re the type we want in our ranks,” the conductor praised before being interrupted by the brazen-faced hulk.
“Ahem! Um… driver, we’ll be disembarking before the roundabout. Conductor, could you please assist us in helping our young brother here?” He gestured toward me, leaving me in a state of wild confusion. “We understand it might be a challenge to manage him, as he’s been struggling with a psychological disorder for years. Please!”
I turned around to identify the person they were referring to, but no one on the taxi exhibited any signs of mental health issues. I swallowed my anxiety for the sake of tranquility and sat in silence.
The taxi accelerated, conversations dominated by intense eye contact. Eventually, we reached the roundabout and the taxi halted at the roadside.
“Alright, let’s handle this,” the hulk declared. “You know Jonah can stir up a storm of shame. We’d be thoroughly embarrassed, facing the public in this condition.”
His eyes alternated between me and the man in the grey suit as he spoke. “Yes, Uncle, you’re right,” the man agreed, as the riders shot me disdainful glances, eagerly waiting to witness my foolishness. The two men joined forces to lift me, and I remained immobilized in shock.
“Aww!” I cried out, my voice tinged with fear. “What’s happening, elders? Can’t you see you’re hurting me?”
“Oh, you see! You predicted this, Uncle. Hold him tightly. We might be seen and shamed in public like this,” the man in the gray suit explained while lifting me higher.
“No!” I protested, my tone shaking with fear. “It’s not me, elders. They’re comparing me to someone else. Wait… ouch!” Their grip became painfully tight.
“Jonah! Jonah! Jonah!” the hulk chanted, calling my name repeatedly. “Please, spare us this embarrassment before our elders. We’ve arrived, our home is just down there. Let those who continue their journeys do so, we can’t linger here. Agreed?”
Shock rendered me immobile. I listened to the conductor’s words of no mercy, his chuckle resonating.
“Beyond his mental challenges, he’s quite the trickster. Oh, what’s his name again?” he inquired while helping the two men force me down.
“Yes, my brother, Jonah, that’s his name—our nephew,” the man in the grey suit confirmed with conviction. “His mind deteriorated after leaving Namibia. Jonah hasn’t fared well like the others.”
“Oh!” the conductor exclaimed in exasperation. “That doesn’t exempt you from paying your fare, my friend. Hand over the money, so we can continue with the waiting passengers.”
“Oh, man!” he feigned sorrow, both in his expression and his heart. “Don’t do that, my brother. Show some compassion. With this issue at hand, can we overcome it? The moment we release him, Jonah might run into the woods or dash into oncoming traffic. On the other hand, if we find an alternative, we might even benefit by purchasing medication for our patient. Please!” the man in the gray suit pleaded. “Hold him tight, Uncle.”
Throughout this ordeal, I struggled to escape their grasp. Their hold was unyielding, preventing me from shifting even an inch.
“Don’t leave me here, guys. Please, I don’t even know these men,” my voice, filled with despair and sorrow, resonated mercilessly.
“Apologies for the delay, parents,” the driver interjected as he beckoned the conductor. “Soldier, leave these people and their patient alone. We might delay our parents and midwives while the world keeps spinning. Let’s go, Soldier!” he called to the conductor, who promptly hopped into the taxi that was about to depart.
He slammed the door forcefully, his gaze fixed on us. “Please, don’t leave me, guys! I haven’t reached my destination yet. How can I get back home when you can see the sun hurrying to set?” I shouted, my voice fading until it was lost in the uncaring wind. Laughter and jeers filled the air, and a wave of fear washed over me.
“Look at this one, a real nutcase. Not just playing pranks, but genuinely crazy,” someone sneered.
“They should send him off to some place where the less gifted folks reside. Trust me, tomorrow this Jonah will end up doing something terrible. Just you wait!” remarked one of the uncles seated alongside the conductor.
Chapter 3
The taxi roared away, leaving three of us behind. As I gazed at the bold, imposing figure, a sense of familiarity gradually washed over me. Memories resurfaced of the two men who had forcibly dragged me into a desolate forest, where even the presence of flies seemed absent.
The hulking man lit a cigar and reclined on a nearby rock, billowing smoke into the air. The man in the grey suit produced a Bible, hurling it at me with a cruel nonchalance. The hulk’s gaze bore into me, more menacing than a battle-hardened soldier’s, enhanced by a hint of weed-induced relaxation.
“Monkeyman,” he sneered, a twisted grin forming. “So, where’s the money? Our money.”
Trembling, I shook my head, my voice quivering. The sky seemed to descend rapidly, pressing against the earth as if to intervene.
“I have no money, elders, I—”
My words were shattered by the hulk’s thunderous roar of anger.
“Hey, vulture kid!” he bellowed, his voice resounding like a clap of thunder. “Think we’re here for games? Huh! Fetch the money. Tsk!” His disdainful cluck hung in the air. Before I could react, a fist as brutal as Malcolm Klassen’s met my face, driving me to the ground.
“Brother, no! Seriously, I—” I tried to plead, but was swiftly silenced by the hulk’s contemptuous retort.
“Piss off, you!” he yelled, his words laced with venom. “I’m not your brother. Your mama’s your brother, not me. Share blood with you… like a cat? Huh!”
The man in the grey suit, a fox in goat’s clothing, struck me with a slap that shattered the wind and rustled the bushes.
Suddenly, I was engulfed in a cloud of crimson dust, my vision blurred as if through a pair of hyperopic eyes. My golf pristine white tee shirt was reduced to tatters, much like a deer caught in a crocodile’s jaws.
Blood became my shroud, akin to the garments of Zion. The man in the grey suit snatched my wallet and emptied the remittance I’d collected from the Mukuru office. My national identity card, passport along with other items from my time as a middle school student, vanished into his grasp.
In no time, both men turned their backs on me, fading into the distance without notice. My eyes swelled shut, and my cries were muffled, unheard by the world. I lay helpless, aware that any predators drawn by the scent of blood could turn me into mere minced meat. The blood-soaked figure that I had become struggled to move, inching its way towards the road, though directionless.
Chapter 4
After a while, a private blue car pulled up where I was sitting. As the window slowly rolled down, I saw an elderly woman behind the wheel. I couldn’t help but feel pity for my terrible condition.
She quickly stepped out of the car, seemingly without a destination in mind. In a swift motion, she opened the car door and reached for her phone. As she spoke on the phone, she wrapped her housecoat around my shaking body, much like a shepherd rescuing a sheep fallen down a deep shaft. She bravely lifted me and gently placed me onto the backseat, offering me a newfound comfort. Without delay, we left that place and headed towards Kanana clinic.
Upon arriving home later, my blood had thinned out, and my once-swollen face was barely recognizable in the dim light. The state I was in surprised everyone in the house. As I gingerly sat down, I recounted the tale of the unfortunate incident, but none of them seemed to believe me. I couldn’t help but question what sort of cursed day I had stumbled upon.
Just as I thought the day couldn’t get worse, my mother’s furious yell shattered the calm, startling even the lizards and forcing them to scatter. Meanwhile, my brother and father confronted me with their fists, inflicting blows that felt like crossing a fiery pit.
On this fateful day, I felt like I was leaping over flames, only to plunge again into the depths of trouble. I tasted a slice of life on the wild side and came to a silent realization—Chipo was the mastermind behind the robbery.
PUBLISH’D AFRIKA Magazine Facebook Short Story Competition is funded by the National Arts Council, Department of Sport, Arts and Culture and Presidential Employment Stimulus Programme 3
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