Write a story which includes the sentence: ‘We had never been in such trouble before.’
‘Brighton, what is that noise!’ I shouted as I ran like a whirlwind outside to see for myself what
the loud thud was all about. As I was still gasping to have a clear glance of the situation, my eyes
stumbled upon an unusual opening on the durawall which was not there before. Was what I was
suspecting the thing that had actually happened? If it is, how was I going to tell my enraged uncle
about it? These were the myriad of my thoughts which were rushing in my head as I gather the
bravado to investigate what was to be the one of the unluckiest days in my life.
My brother Brighton and I, were left at home to take care of the house in the absence of the elders.
My little sisters, Ashley, Colleen and Audrey, my young brother Tinotenda and my aunt, Tarisai
had gone to Nairobi, Kenya for a church conference. They were going to spend about a week or
so there, enjoying both the good news of the gospel and the scenic Great African Rift Valley. I
could imagine how they were going to come back uttering one or two Kiswahili words or telling
me how they had passed through the kaleidoscopic Mount Kilimanjaro. To be honest, I felt a bit
alienated to be the house keeper but this was not something new. I was used to stay at home when
everyone used to go to my rural area in Mutoko during Christmas and New Year’s holidays. My
uncle Petros, whom I used to stay with was at work as usual. He was to come home a little bit late
that evening as his earthmoving business required him to be at work almost 24/7.
As the elder brother, I was left in charge of the Nissan Hardbody keys so that I can clean the car
since it was to be used for a journey to see the other group of workers in Chipinge the following
day. I had always been faithful and trustworthy to the extent that there was nothing my uncle could
not leave me with. In contrast, my brother Brighton, was quite a character. Inasmuch I liked him
as blood is thicker than water, I had some reservations as he was that person who could be
unpredictable sometimes. He was an ostentatious character, which would end up being tawdry if
not outright vulgar. In short, he was naught. I had always excoriated his actions and choices. He
was capricious to the extent that I was torn between liking him and hating him. Such ambivalence
made me end up making decisions which were rather questionable even up to my own reasonable
abilities.
After mending our beds, spotlessly clean the house and sweep the red and black, diamond-shaped
driveway, I and my brother Brighton, headed for washing the truck. I took the cream mutton cloths
from the line where it used to be placed after cleaning the cars and the brown bucket, filled it with
water and went to where the truck was stationed. The mutton cloth was bought white but because
of the filthy it used to wash off the cars, the colour turned to cream. I poured dish washing liquid
into the water, mix it and the foam was the perfect ingredient for the job we intended to do on our
black and white NP200 Nissan Hardbody truck. The cleaning was going to be special since on
several occasions, I could just pour water on the cars during the morning rush hour as everyone
would be commanding me to finish the cars early. At the same time, I would be wary of going to
the University of Zimbabwe and not get into the lecture late. If my sisters were to get into the
bathroom before me, I know it was till kingdom come that I would be able to bath. You know how
it is with girls, they take their time bathing, something that would impede my race against time.
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Brighton got into the back of the truck as he used a hard broom to remove the dirty before I could
pour our water and dishwashing mixture. I took my mutton cloth and started cleaning the body of
the truck. All this while, the car radio was blazing our favourite and lilt hiphop and R’n’B tunes
and at times, we could sing along or even momentarily throw the equipment away and take one or
two orchestrated steps, before picking them up and continue with our work. The whole process
was refreshing as we were expecting to be thanked for a job well done or even get some incentives
when uncle was back so as to attend the Warriors and Super Eagles match at the National Sports
Stadium the following Sunday.
I finished to be hygienic on the outside of the car and the body was just resplendent. I poured the
remainder of my foam in the back of the truck where Brighton was done sweeping. I fetched
another bucket full of water, poured the clean water at the trailer and let the water roll out into the
pavement. The next mission was to get inside, use a small broom to clean each and every
compartment within the front of the car. To those who are not familiar with a construction or
earthmoving truck, let me give you a proper explanation on how the car works to appreciate how
dirty this truck was. On several occasions, the work is done in the remote areas and there is a lot
of dust. This dust enters the farthest parts of the car and it is not a challenge to the workers as they
would be wearing overalls or work suits. The dust and all the dirty was not a bother before but
now it was. Uncle Petros was to use it on a trip to Manicaland and as someone who was going to
be wearing a suit, the stakes were too high to just leave the place with any element of dirty.
Moreover, he is a perfectionist. Whether it was to be used with a formal attire or overalls, it was
supposed to be as neat as a pin, full stop!
‘Ring! ring! ring!’ The fixed Telone phone reverberated and I dashed inside the house in a flash
as I was afraid that the call was likely to abruptly end if I was to take long. During those days,
mobile phones were still a luxury for the rich and had to keep my ears open so that I would not
miss any call. It was a ‘heinous crime’ to miss a phone call since uncle Petros would want a full
explanation of our whereabouts when our duty was to take care of the premises. I grabbed the
receiver and immediately recognise my uncle’s booming voice is he wanted to know if we were
done with cleaning the car. I assured him that were almost finished and he was to be home in the
next hour or so. I didn’t know where he was exactly but I knew that the BMW 320i would be
clocking between 120km and 140km per hour as it was in his DNA to race, even for no apparent
reason. When being driven by him, you will be silently praying to your Creator, hoping to protect
you in that Formula One-like race.
As soon as I put the receiver down, I head a cacophony outside. It did not take me moments to be
outside and what I saw was just ineffable. Almost half of the concrete durawall had fallen outside
and could only afford to see the red tail lights of the open truck. I looked for Brighton and could
not see him. To say that I almost lost consciousness is an understatement. Although I was chafed
by his actions, I failed to do anything. All the energy in my feet felt to have been sapped and my
knees gave up to the weight of my diminutive frame. I tried to be strong but it was to no avail. If
anyone was to see me, he or she would imagine that it was just insouciance. But alas, I was rather
something akin to lassitude. After what seemed an eternity, I gathered the remnants ounces of
energy left in me and trudged towards the horrific scene. I found my brother shivering hands
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clutched on the steering wheel and he was motionless. I composed myself but my heart was
pounding like a grinding mill. The fears were two-folded. Was my brother alive and if he was,
what was I going to say about the whole incident? I was aware that my uncle would not accept that
it was my brother’s fault for trying to drive when he had never attempted it before- at least he
would wrongly assume that. How my brother could be such a maladroit to such an extent, I had
always wondered. It would be either I was negligent enough to leave the keys on the ignition or I
was the one trying to teach him. Either way, I was to blame!
To my relief, my brother was ok, it was simply the shock of the incident. I opened the door, took
him out and he could not utter any word. It was not possible to even shout at him because that was
just spilled beans. I reversed the car inside through the decrepit wall. As I reversed it, my hands
were sweating and still shaking, as if I was doing it for the first time. Had even driven our tipper
trucks and front-end loaders which were quite harder than this. On several occasions, the first and
reverse gears of the tipper were the hardest to engage and had done that without any challenges.
But today, a car with such a power steering and with everything perfect, it was rather a momentous
task. Was it a sign of what was to come?
If you don’t want time to fly, it does the opposite and you do not have any control over it. It seem
to be rebellious, as if mocking you for being powerless over life events. It proves your mortality
as an insignificant being. It was like waiting for an executioner to end your staggered days in this
life. It is like waiting for the inevitable. Actions speak louder than words and in our dead silence,
we were aware of the imminent danger that was to follow. Such rhapsodic moments can make you
wish you were a corpse, rather than a breathing being. We knew that as soon as we were to hear a
BMW sound pull up by the gate, or let’s say, what was now an enlarged opening, our lives were
literally over. If it was a crime to even fail to say, ‘good morning’ or ‘evening’, what was to happen
to us when we had damaged the car which was to go on a special journey? All the trust and respect
I had worked to earn were thrown through the window in a second.
Our previous troubles were minor, as far as I am concerned, because they were about changing the
setup of the television and other multimedia, or make connections that can be complicated when
the family want to watch their favourite television channels when we were not home, coming home
after the designated curfew hours, stuff like that. You know how experimental it is with us boys.
But this, was quite new. We had never been in such trouble before. When the sound of the BMW
reverberated near the bend and pulled at the front gate, we knew that our lives were literally over.
What followed is quite indescribable and this piece of paper cannot afford to express how it was.
Let me just say, you were supposed to be there to really fathom what I’m about to tell you…
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