The reunion

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In no time, the fight was over and there stood my champion. Shivering I looked at him from head to toe. Uncombed hair, bare chest, tattered trousers, filthy and barefooted. That was the description I could make of him and of course the noxious odour. All this while I did not notice that he had long outstretched his hand, handing me the banana. No. I could not take it. I shook my head. He shoved it right away into his mouth.


‘Who are you,?’ he thundered. I was too afraid to answer.

‘Father it’s me’, I wanted to tell him right there but my tongue did not loosen up. He still had this imposing presence which terrified me. There I was. His small boy who had now become a man but I could not talk to him man to man.


It has been almost a decade since I left this country for the search of a job. My mother was a third wife to my father and because of strife’s of a polygamous set up she ran away with me. She could not stand the daily quarrels. My father back then was a womanizer who could not support his family. To ease the troubles, he drank a lot.

‘Do you live here,?’ I finally decided to answer with a question. Without uttering any word he grabbed me by the collar he set me up against the wall. For a moment our eyes met. He saw through me and lowered his gaze. I was saved by the crowd who had encircled us making our business their business. He let go of me.

He was getting away. I had been stalking him for a week now and that morning I had sworn to myself that the last time I was to close the front door that evening, he should be inside. I followed him. I could not keep up with him.
‘I’m Abel,’ I shouted behind him. He stopped. Abel, Abel, Abel, my name seemed to echo the whole of Robert Mugabe way. Other people walking by thought I was crazy.

It was beginning to get dark when I finally convinced him to the car.
As I drove silently stealing glances at him. I thought about him. It was strange thinking about someone sited right next to me.

I had expected him to faint or at least blackout for a moment but he did not. He had taken it all in less than two ours. He was strong. A real Samanyanga. I smiled as these thoughts as I parked the car.

I felt like a heavy burden has been lifted from my shoulders. The front door closed for the last time and he stepped into anew life.

by fmadzikatire.


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