Love Without Borders: The beginning

I felt sweat trickle down between my shoulder blades to where the cinched waist of my dress drank it up. The blazing sun hit down on me relentlessly as I walked, weighed down by the mealie-meal sack I carried on my head and blinded by tears and dust.

So it was true what people have been talking about, that my husband, James, was having an affair with the Bottle Store sales lady. I had brushed off the rumors all this while but today seeing them together had convinced me. Holding hands in broad daylight? This man had lost all respect for me and our marriage.

A rumbling noise behind brought me back to the present and without turning, I moved from the dusty road into part of the bush, making way. A white Toyota Land Cruiser sped past, leaving me choking in a cloud of dust. It however did not go far but started reversing till it stopped where I was. The window was rolled down, and a face, red from the blistering heat, crowned by lustrous golden curls, popped out, smiling.

“Hello,” the white man behind the wheel shouted in a voice heavy with an accent I could not place, “let me give you a lift.”

I quickened my pace and he started driving slowly, abreast and kept speaking;

“It is such a hot day and I wanted to drop you off closer to your house.”

I kept walking on gingerly and when I realised that he was not going to leave me, I took the beaten track that led through the bush. Tree branches whiplashed me in the face as I quickened my pace to increase the distance between me and him and when I was well in the bush, I heard the car drive off.

****

I was on all fours, blowing and poking at the firewood, urging it to burn, the thick smoke burning my throat and stinging my eyes. I rose as a flame flickered but the sudden movement induced a wave of dizziness that brought me back to the floor. I lay prostrate on the floor till the dizzy spell passed then I slowly rose and sat down. My period was more than a week late and with this bout of dizziness, I was convinced that I was pregnant. My hand instinctively went to my belly, which I cupped and got lost in thought.

James clearing his throat cut into my reverie and I scurried to my feet, heart racing as I tried to revive the dying fire.

“Is my food ready?” he scowled standing in the doorway.

“N...not yet,” I stammered, fanning the flames with a card board, “It will be d...”

I did not finish what I had to say for James had closed that gap between us with his wide steps and had begun to strike me with fists.

“Why?” he bellowed, striking me more, “You were wasting time moving around the shops at the Growth Point huh? What were you selling that could not be bought?”

I whimpered as the blows came. I knew that the next morning I would be black and blue, maybe suffer a broken rib or tooth and I had become indifferent. However, this time it was not only about my body, I was carrying life within me and I was not going to let him extinguish it.

“Jemu!” I screamed, “If you kill me you will kill your child I am carrying.”

The blows abruptly stopped. I slowly raised my eyes to look at him and saw his hand suspended in mid-air. There was a stunned look on his face which turned to a softening as he slowly let down his now limp arm.

“What?” he asked crouching next to me. His breath smelt of Masese and even though it nauseated me, I could not look away. I did not need another beating.

“I am carrying your child Jemu, you are going to be a father,” I said in a small voice.

He placed his hand on my flat stomach as if seeking reassurance of some kind of life growing in there.

                                                            ***

At Mass, I sang along to Mwari Ngaarumbidzwe with so much joy and praise in my heart. The Lord had surely remembered me. After trying to conceive for years, I was finally carrying life within me. I danced to the sounds of the drum, swaying my hips in time with the movements of my fellow congregants. As I danced, I felt a prickly sensation on my back like someone’s eyes were boring into me and when I turned, my eyes landed into the bluest pair of eyes I had ever seen. The eyes smiled at me and blushing, I looked away quickly and when I tried to resume my dancing, I fell out of sync with the rhythm. I was relieved when the song came to an end and we had to kneel down in prayer.

After Mass, Doctor Florian Kleinmann was introduced by the Priest as the new Doctor for the Mission Hospital who was replacing Doctor Muller who had returned to Germany. As he stood in the front of the congregation, Dr. Kleinmann’s blue eyes seemed to seek me out of the many. I looked away; there was something in those frank blue eyes that seemed to unnerve me.

Later on, he stood in the sun chatting with the secondary school head teacher and I grabbed the opportunity to study him from afar. He stood in that way footballers or most sportsmen stood, with legs a little apart, fists shoved in the pockets of his khaki chinos. The head teacher said something funny and he laughed loudly, head thrown back and strangely, it was a beautiful sound.  As if sensing me watching him laugh, he abruptly turned and he caught me before I turned away and those blue eyes undid me again, I had to look away.


Please leave a comment below.