A Family Hustle: The Second Generation (EPISODE 4)

EPISODE FOUR (APRIL)

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6 YEARS LATER…

CLAIRE

Mathematically, it could be precise to say that the innocence with which we are born is a decreasing function with time. Experiences we encounter allow us to change in ways diverse. The rapidness with which our innocence disappears may depend greatly on how vulnerable we may get. With GrandMa Mary’s lost battle to cancer, Claire Hamooya had grown to be vulnerable.

She was now under the care of her uncle. He had taken good care of her all this while until after she was 15 when he had started acting weird towards her. She clearly remembered his betrayal of her last year, everyday.She remembered how when she had come back from school had only found her uncle home. Normally he was always at work at 2pm during week days, but that Wednesday was an exception.

He had called her to his bedroom asking her to bring him water, but that was a trick. No sooner had she entered his room than he had shut the door and pounced on her like a lion on an unsuspecting gazelle.

Her cheeks burned with the hot ocean that poured  from her eyes every time her mind fed her with the memory. At her age, she was so unprepared for such a predicament, not that she had to be. She was forced to contemplate suicide, she was looking for a way to escape the evil world.

The hardest thing of it all was she knew the truth would set her free, but how would she open up to a world that would become even more complicated after. Her uncle’s wife would never shut up about how much she thought her husband loved her. How would the woman react if Claire told her about the cold blooded defiler, the full time devil?  She knew her Aunt would never believe her and probably kick her out. Claire was forced to analyse all these things. At her age, girls normally have to worry about less petty issues,but at her age she was forced to be a woman. She remembered her uncle’s threats.

“If you tell anyone, I will kill you” he had told her.

She could tell her father, but her beloved dad was too sick and weak to be handling such  cases and she never thought her brothers would be the best avengers.

She forgot to pray, not that she couldn’t. She had questioned her beliefs. Where was the God her grandmother always told her would always be there? Why had he allowed her to suffer? Was she too cursed that her birth caused her mother’s death?

Her teachers were worried as her grades were poor of late. They had called her guardians for a meeting due to the rising concerns. Her uncle was the first to give a reason as to why it was this way.

“I think she may be missing her grandmother”. the devil had said. “She will be okay, won’t you Claire?” he added with a smile.

The hypocrisy of her Uncle tore her heart apart. She could never get used to his disgusting behavior. She had been thinking about poisoning his food, but her plans were just limited to her thoughts. She knew sooner or later, she had to do something about it, but the question still remained, “how”?

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A Family Hustle: The Second Generation (EPISODE 3)

EPISODE THREE (MARCH)

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It is often said that God hears the cry and sees the tears of a woman.  Mostly, this is never apparent to a man at the peak of his ‘cheating game’. There however, comes a point when life ceases to be a crystal stair for the man and when he finally tries to connect the dots realizes he cooked his own problems. This is the point Michael Hamooya had reached. He had the slightest idea that two weeks after his daughter’s birthday, he would be standing before a judge slapped with another corruption Charge. He now strongly believed everything would be different now had he only stuck by Claire.

He had now realized there was no more hope for his release. He realized he had been played. A deal gone wrong had landed him in this mess and his former organization was not letting him get away that easily. This case needed not be adjourned, the judge proved him guilty again.

This moment sung with so much sorrow that for once Gary put aside his hatred for his father as his eyes watered. Grandma Mary was in tears too as she held Claire tightly. Peter remembered the days that followed his mother’s passing, he could never get used to losing parents. For a moment, the court room felt much like a grave yard to them all. They felt like they were saying good bye to Michael forever.

                               BACK AT GRANDMA MARY’S HOUSE

Devoid of the appetite to eat, the grandmother and her grand children sat in the living room. They talked about their favorite moments with Mike while Gary was quiet for the most part of it.

“I know you have heard so many stories about your Father from other people, but there is a lot of things you do not know about my son”, Grandma Mary suddenly Said

She told them how Mike was actually her favorite child. She told them how he was the only one who proved responsible in supporting the extended family and how much he loved their mother.

“I don’t think he loved mum, if he really did, he couldn’t be away when she needed him the most”, Gary quickly shot in indignation.

“Gary, your father can never rewrite his wrongs, but you know he has learned enough lessons, you also have learned something from this and it should make you a better man in future, by not making your father’s mistakes” Mary said patiently.

“I think we should pray for dad, Grandma” Peter said after listening to Grandma and Gary for a while.

“Indeed Peter”, she smiled at him.

Grandma Mary always smiled to make her grand children feel better, but deep down she knew she that she was cracking down. She wondered if her grand children would be well taken care of once she died. She worried and she really did about little Claire. They had grown so fond of each other over the years. She had no answers to her worries so she simply put them in prayers.

“Dear Lord, we come to you”, she began to pray.

TBC

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A FAMILY HUSTLE: THE SECOND GENERATION (E2)

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EPISODE TWO (FEBRUARY)
On her ninth birthday, Claire had wished her dad could be present on her tenth. She had grown so fond of him. A father daughter relationship that grew stronger during the prison visits. She saw him past the court’s conviction. She saw her father and She loved him.

It was as though her grandma had been in her mind, eavesdropping, because she had been working in line with Claire’s wish. She had been arranging for Mike to attend his little girl’s party.

The funny thing of it all was it seemed Mike was the first rich man justice had happened to. Initially, his lawyers thought they could pull it off, but when more than three quarters of his property had been seized by the state, they knew a politically motivated case was far from being won.

Peter and Gary, the oldest of the three had come through from Chingola and Kitwe respectively. Every one little Claire loved was here except her dad and of course her beloved mother her eyes had never set on.

“Now put on that smile birthday girl. Who frowns on their day? ”, her grandma Mary said, knowing the little girl just wanted to see her father.
Mike should have been here at 2pm, but it was now a quarter past 3. She cursed them so hard in her heart, but then instantly remembered Pastor Ben’s Patience is holy sermon.

It was almost 4 when Mike showed up at the gate with two casually dressed cops beside him. The cops had insisted to attend the party as part of the arrangement-a party of a little girl they barely knew. Anything for the love of food could be anyone’s guess. However, Mary could care less, her son was home.
“Daddy”, little Claire screamed while running with open arms to her father.

“Hello Princess, nice party you have going on here, come here, I got you something”, Mike smiled.

“Missed you dad”, Peter embraced his dad.

“Wow, you grow bigger every time I see you, I wonder what kind of food your aunt is feeding you on the copper belt”  Mike said with a chuckle then suddenly with a worried face added , “Where is your older brother?”

As though programmed, they turned to look at Gary in unison who in turn looked back at his father with a furious face and walked away.

“Come here princess, let me show you something” he smiled at Claire

He gave her his wife’s silver necklace.
“This is for you princess, your mother would be so proud of you, Happy birthday, Daddy loves you”

As she ran to her friends to show off her new gift, Mike wished his wife was here, he wished everything was normal. His heart burned, but he wasn’t going to let melancholy prevail, today was his little girl’s day.

The party had been going well so far, except of course the funny questions and stares some of his relatives tossed him and a growing fear that his son may have been turned against him by his wife’s sister. He had also noticed another thing wrong with Gary; he had a scar on his lower lip as though it was sliced by a knife. He knew his son had been fighting and possibly drinking. He never thought Lusaka would look this different.

“Okay, everyone gather around”, shouted Grandma Mary

This time Claire wished her dad would be released as she blew over her cake.

“She keeps transforming into her mother by the years”, grandma Mary said as she and Max watched her

“It’s magical”, he said with a smile. “Listen mum, I am very grateful for what you have been doing for my daughter, I..”

“Son, they told me they may be releasing you in a year and a half depending on the Judge’s decision and I want you to come and be there for your children. I am dying, Michael. This cancer doesn’t seem to leave. I am good for a year plus according to the doctor, but I may go. I want you to inherit my house and build a home again with your children|”

“But,.. but,, why did you not tell me all this time mum? Why?”, he said with watery eyes.

“You have enough problems as it is, Michael so I want you to be strong. Gary has been a problem. Esther told me he has joined the Jerahbos. He’s barely 16 and it will be you to shape him when you get released. You have more problems than to worry about me.”

Michael had never felt this vulnerable. His mother was dying, his son was a mess, and he was still in prison. Maybe melancholy would prevail after all. He wished his day would not have to end this way as the cops drove him back to the prison.
TBC

A Family Hustle: The Second Generation

EPISODE ONE (JANUARY)

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The vast room glowed red as though the air had been vaporised by the color. The air was fragrant with a sweet smelling French scent. There was no sense lacking stimulation as the music was a perfect match for the environment and once you saw the host, there was no escaping this lovely prison. As she made her last pole move, Michael knew from where he sat on the bed, like a little child hooked to telly, that he was about to go on a mind blowing trip. He always loved this part of his South African Business trips and she always knew how to take care of him.

Like a beautiful snake she slowly began to make advances towards him. His heart beat excitedly as he expected her. She always managed to make it seem like a new experience. As she was about to strike him with her skill, his phone blew into a ringtone. There was no avoiding this call and not even this naked buxom could stop him from doing so.

“How is she doing, doctor?” He asked the doctor in panic.

“Mr Hamooya, you need to relax. I cannot tell now for sure, but I am doing the best I can”, Doctor Phiri responded calmly.

Everything happened so quickly after the call. He was lucky Mashaba’s private Jet was available to get him into the country on time. His wife was in labor for their third child and it was unusually a complication. She had called him in the morning telling him she wasn’t feeling too well, but he just had plans for Lydia that afternoon after the meeting. For the second time since his cheating episodes, he felt sorry for his wife. The first was when he had done it the first time, he wished he had just apologized then and maybe he wouldn’t have gone far in this way. The guilt was burning his soul, but he was just happy to have made it on time.

After what seemed like two hours, Dr Phiri reappeared in the room and Michael immediately shot up.

“Mike, I’m sorry” He said.

Michael felt a huge pain in his heart like somebody was firing electric shots to his heart. He looked at his two sons and a sudden realization hit him that he had failed both as a husband and a father. Depression was slowly creeping in. The surviving baby had her mother’s eyes and nose. He looked the innocent baby in her eyes and called her Claire.

Never had he pictured Claire’s name on a grave stone. His wife was gone and he blamed no one else but himself for this. He had questions whose answers bred excruciating pain in his heart. Who was going to take care of his kids like she did? What was he to say to Peter who now was on a daily routine of questions about his mother’s whereabouts?

“Dad where is mum? Little peter asked inquisitively.

“Peter, mum is in heaven” he answered softly.

“Dad, can you please take me to heaven, I want to see mum” Peter shot again.

Usually people ask what they had done to deserve a predicament, but that was going to lack in Michael. His wife’s relatives had insisted on taking custody of the children and he saw himself in no position to disagree.

Michael felt his guilt outweighed the lessons life was handling him and when he was summoned by the Anti- Corruption commission presenting him office fund embezzlement charges, he had no time to feel sorry for himself. He knew he was going away for a very long time, he knew he had no time to seek redemption because he knew he didn’t deserve it. He knew this was his end, but deep down he knew it wasn’t because his children were still out there.
TBC

When can we smile?

     WHEN CAN WE SMILE?
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So when can we smile?
To know that everything is over
Shed off yesterday’s hurtful pile
Like the snake won’t allow its old skin to bother.
When can we smile?       

How we never knew peace
Our hearts never knew a jovial second or a while
How we longed for a day we never knew
One day, i could say, one day
One day to smile, one day to rest
When can I smile?

Even if it was sold, happiness i couldn’t afford
but I can always pay melancholy my landlord
How stupid are my riches
Engraved in my skin like stitches
When can we smile?
 

Why so serious?
No don’t you put a smile on my face
The same damn quarrel me and myself face
maybe the smile is just expensive
But one day I will afford it.
So can we smile?
Yes we can.

Interact with me on twitter @aqui_cuteboi_    ©2015

THE FACEBOOK LOVE STORY

Facebook helps you connect….. Why could she?… finish reading that welcome message? She was finally here; she simply wanted to be a part of the most popular topic in class. She just wanted to sign up for Facebook. What she never pictured was she didn’t actually sign up for Facebook, she had signed up for an escapade she would never ever live to forget, but that was 5 years ago.

Upload a profile picture. She was so ready for this step for she had already taken a photo we now call a selfie-thanks to her 3.2 mega pixels Nokia 8900. So that’s how Facebook added a new user, Jennifer ‘Cute Girl’ Phiri.

At least 5 friend requests daily every week make her feel so excited, the excitement is unbearable. Yes, Guys are always after her in real time, but this online attention is so special, it is so tempting. She feels like the only girl sought after in the world. “Hello Beautiful”, “Hi my love”, “Hey I just wanted to say you have a beautiful profile photo” and then came the freaks, “Hey sexy, I want to……hmm the comments and likes on her photos. At first most of the guys could get replies to their messages, but now there are just too many to reply to and oh freaks got no replies by the way.

After two months, Maxwell Hernandez was the only guy that came close to her expectations. Ever since he acquired her line, he had incessantly called her ‘appropriately’. She viewed him as a sweet guy, he only knew how he really viewed her. According to Max, he had just graduated from university and was working for a construction firm as a managing supervisor. In her last grade, Jennifer had scored a hat trick.

Now all that left was their official meeting and the D-day did come. Max was working in her town for the weekend and as a ‘gentleman’ could afford some time off with her. She shyly agreed, but remained overpowered by arousal and anxiety. She thought about the steamy episodes they had on phone, the texting. What if he was a murderer? Well then, he must be a special one, one who sparks her emotions to life, her longings, cravings and desires (of every kind-all at once) into existence. Would she be willing to do it for the first time if all got out of hand? What if this, what if that? These questions were literally rhetorical in her mind’s play-field and she was well aware of that, but like Katy Perry, it’s no big deal, it’s no big deal, Max was finally here. It’s like she had known him forever.

Max did no discredit to Jennifer at all, he actually looked better and attractive than the man he was in the photos they shared. She concealed her excitement, well at least for now. She didn’t want to get sold out, because Max on the other hand seemed ready to buy, and buy heavily he would. He was quite the gentleman though. Usually, in a maintained status quo, the first thing most guys want to do is embrace the girl, but Max, Max on the other hand, kissed her hand softly like he had met a princess.

“I’m Max, it is an honour to finally meet such a beauty”, he said slowly in such a composed and most romantic matter while stretching from the bow.
He was so tall and well built. She now hoped he could hug her next, but this was Max,a guy whose actions spoke for his being different from every other guy. Jennifer just couldn’t believe how lucky she was. She felt lucky before he even asked her out. <— That is such a statement to draw a concrete inference from, on its own.

Max made her day simple, but so outstanding in so many ways. They conversed endlessly and he asked so many questions about her. You could see he wanted to know so much more about this girl. He was into her. After 4 hours, there was no difference between a minute and an hour. It was soon time to part and Jennifer was astonished to note there was no kiss planted on her lips, but her forehead. Later that night on the phone, he told her he respected her so much and would like to kiss her at the very right time. According to him, she was so honourable. At this point, Jennifer knew that he was the one, but she had still met him on Facebook. What did it matter anyway? Thanks Mark Zuckerberg?

Jennifer was always happy. She couldn’t let her friends know yet. She had no time for judgements, but she could take envy, admiration and jealousy anytime without giving half a damn. No one, but Max knew the answer to why her grades had improved. His appeal and charm wasn’t the only influence he had on her, he made it clear that her education and not he should be first at that point.

We could call them three months of acquaintanceship, Jennifer would call it three months in utopia. Last month on her birthday, Max could have had bought her any gift in the world, but because theirs was a clandestine relationship, a small gift was appropriate. On that day, she had also given to him her womanly prized possession. After giving it such a deep thought, she decided it was best she let Max deflower her.

Another meeting was scheduled during her second term holiday, less than a month after her birthday. She told her mum she was going out with her friends for a picnic and would be back later in the afternoon, but God knew Max had arranged to take her out of town. She found him waiting at their spot standing with his back against his BMW (i don’t know what version it was, but it was fancy) , one hand in the pocket, flowers in the other. If her dreams had never come true, her favourite romantic movie had.

“Ready for the road trip?” he asked with a smile.

“Always ready for any road trip that you’re the driver”, she smiled back to expose firstly her nice white teeth and the two neat holes God placed on both her cheeks.

“Come on then, let’s roll, let me drive you crazy”

Both laughed.

They sang along to speeding as Max did 200KMs per hour. Every other road user looked amazed as two lively souls sang on top of their voices like they were from a world outside. All was going well, all was as smooth as it could be. No one saw it coming, how would they, they were embedded in the moment. A truck was headed in their direction. It gradually approached them innocently as they did, but both at their best speed. No one could have imagined this, but a few meters away from them, this Volvo truck lost control. It left its lane and was about to hit the BMW, but Max quickly swerved away. At this point he was a hero, but he just avoided one obstacle only to hit into another on the other side. He hit right into the truck’s trailer which also seemed to hit into them.

Hours later, Jennifer woke up with blurred sight. She couldn’t recall what happened. With immense effort, she realised she was in a hospital. Her mother was looking over her. What in her world was happening? Shocked or confused couldn’t describe how she felt. She was about to switch off realty when she remembered Max.

“Max, Max, Maxwell” she screamed. The doctor on the other hand was familiar with this episode and came over to give her a sedative. After 3 weeks she came to swallow the hard truth that Max had died in the car crush. She couldn’t believe it. She felt so weak and nauseated and puke she did. How would something so beautiful suddenly turn into a nightmare? She could keep passing out, but denial is what kept her on. She never imagined this to be happening. In her mind, Max was immortal, he was there to complete her life,he was her partner. He was the love of her life. It isn’t how long you have been with someone that makes it real, it is the moments and the actions of love they extend to you. Max was one person who had showed her what love was in such a short time. He had never manipulated her as his position often demands in most men. He was older and more experienced than her, but never used this to his advantage. He was her brother, her best friend, her guide, her mentor, her boyfriend, but Max was now gone, He was dead. 😦 You don’t know what pain is.

Her parents couldn’t find the time to be mad at her, when they learnt that her non terminating puking was because she was almost two months pregnant. Jenifer’s father to her child had died. She couldn’t go back to school. She had so much to handle. She forgot a thing like Facebook ever existed. It was no longer her daily routine. Her mind always read, Maxwell and ‘their’ unborn baby. Who would take care of her unborn baby? How would she explain to her parents how she met Max? How would her friends ever believe her? She would one day have to explain to her child were the Father was. Would she have the strength? All these questions would have to be answered one day.

TO BE CONTINUED, WELL MAYBE 😦

“REST IN PEACE KING COBRA”: The ‘Royal’ Family mourns.

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Will a Good Samaritan kindly embrace Bana Zambia? Only last week did she present a face embedded in elation only to become a weary figure a few days later. Any premonition of this was never in her imagination because after 50 years, optimism was her comforter. Clearly she was never ready for this, clearly she never envisaged this catastrophe. She was always optimistic, but the irony that fate presents you with is now chewing her limbs.

“Were is the hood that covered me these few years, were is my Cobra?” The frantic wails cannot be overlooked. “Who will take care of my children like my King ever did?” Will a Good Samaritan embrace mother Zambia? The tears I see will keep the Victoria Falls running for a while.

Zambian president Michael Sata dies at age 77. Is there no better headlines to wake up to? Why do we lack the power to alter some truths? You can never fathom fully the moment when the sad truth hits you in the face. To tell you that the father who has always been there is no more. No one meets pain and embraces it. It is ever thorny. Bana Zambia is bitter, but tell me, who will not sympathise with a woman widowed twice?

I do not see why Mama Zambia won’t get sentimental about this one. Here is a loss of a man who demonstrated patience and determination in a manner so peaceful. When most easily throw in the towel, the King fought hard for his turn and the most distressing part is he only lived a few years to accomplish his first task. It is important to note that in these few years, a legacy worth celebrating for years to come lies vividly in our vicinity. Who shall not, but praise this King Cobra? His peaceful act in pursuing power remains a global lesson. Whereas power ‘hungry’ filled opposition leaders sought violence to get to their destination, Michael Sata exhibited politics of maturity in his seat of opposition.While in power, he took nonsense from no one. Work or get fired. He is a sempiternal blueprint, an afflatus to every leader.

Thousands of miners’ threatened jobs saved, road networks upgraded, infrastructure developed and upgraded. Ushitasha mwana wandoshi (He who doesn’t appreciate is a wizard’s offspring). If at all the works of MC become apparent to you only after his demise, it is much better than being unappreciative at all. Pragmatically, no one is perfect. This nation can only be changed overtime and MC has contributed immensely to the change that paves way for development. The imagination of what more works our father could have carried out had he completed his terms of office really drives the ‘royal’ family into mourning, because of a fear of being deprived of a great vision he carried.

A melancholic tune engrosses the ears of Bana Zambia. However, it is time for her to salute a real soldier. He that fought a good fight deserved the recognition, the praise the respect. We reflect on the death of our president. A man who was humble enough to attend ordinary people’s funerals. Today, it is the turn of both the ordinary and the ‘eminent’ to give a standing ovation to the King Cobra. Today we sing an anthem of love and appreciation. Today and forever do we remember King Cobra.

This cloud is too dark, but in everything we hope to see the illumination at the end of the tunnel believing the spirit of our departed leader watches over us. We thank God for the life of MC and for the leadership He allowed him: as all leadership comes from God.

We pray that the vision of our late president be continued and ask for no room for wrangles. We pray that whoever succeeds MC puts a smile on the resting soul of our president and also on us. The bar, however, has been raised too high because MC was really a workaholic. Even in times of illness, he worked for us all, he never gave up- he never resigned. It is very sad for Zambia to lose a president for the second time. Sata is someone we all have loved. The one president whose election into office resulted into an overwhelming episode of a boisterous Zambia. MC was a man the majority Zambians wanted, and to us God gave and from us He has taken. It is painful to imagine, but we are here. Baba, we shall miss your voice that was easily mimicked (“corruption, I am sorry”) and your sense of humour during your campaign sessions.

It is now time for the King Cobra to rest after a faithful fight and all we can say is “REST IN PEACE MICHAEL CHILUFYA SC”, we will forever miss and love you.