Wonders of Wanda

                                                                image: smooth.com.au The last time I had seen her had been four years down the line; when I was still walking barefoot to Kesemulila Primary School. I could only remember her for having "bombasticated"(those who went to school in those years know what I'm talking about) a small success card to me. I had not been sure about it but I thought she felt something for me--men always do whenever a girl shows a good gesture to them. It was a small success card with a picture of a girl and a boy kissing in a very intimate embrace--I always wondered who in his right senses would expose boys and girls of twelve to fourteen to such pictures. I was glad my father was not around. They could have passed for pornographic material, which was not welcome in our house. ...

Crickets stridulated in all directions and frogs and toads from a nearby swamp croaked noisily, reminding Mkonaambi of the story his mother once told him. According to the story, frogs always want to know whether their friends are still alive or have been killed by stray passersby. The first frog always calls out to the second one, "John" and the respondent says "yes". The caller then asks John, " wamekukanyaga " and John always says "No". This calling, responding, asking and answering always goes on whole nights and sometimes days. That's his mother's story. On this night, he thought he had heard something close to what his mother had told him: the indefatigable calling and responding of John and his relative. From a distance, he could hear the barking of dogs. Some woofed, others ruffed while others arfed. Everything else was silent and still. Mkonaambi walked on determinedly. He was a man who always got whatever he wanted no matter ...

I looked at my fresh wound and felt sorry for myself. I sobbed and wailed at the same time. Tons and tons of tears rolled down my face uncontrollably. I could have done better. Surely, I could have. It now dawned on me that professional doctors could have shown some caution, care, and love. But being the believer I have always been, I had to be more sanguine in the powers of the Most High. "God will intervene," I thought as I coughed loud enough to scare demons out of a possessed man-I had seen a local pastor claim to scare out some stubborn ones out of an old woman in a nearby church the previous Sunday. The pain shall end. There was a lot of haze in the room as smoke covered all parts of the round-shaped hut and I could hardly make out one thing or the other. The obscurity in the house was so prominent. The only things I was sure of were those that made up my bedding. I lay on a bedding made of a combination of a few sisal-made sacks and dry banana leaves. The sacks look...