THE ENDOWED APTITUDE
Short Story by Emmanuel Douglas Mulomole
I was writing a poem, titled “FATHERLESS” but before my pen kissed the edge of the paper, I heard a clarion voice that someone was calling me. After I answered, for the same time i saw my cousin come towards where I was and started reading the half paper I wrote. Thereafter, he left me with an astonishing words.
With these words I decided to stop writing it, because he had been warned me that this poem was verisimilarly speaking out the facts of someone. The facts about the secret which had been concealing for many years. For the heart of respect he continued telling me that I should be supposed to be bowdlerising all lines of poem from my mind.
Immediately I persuaded everything what my cousin had said. And I removed it as a rightful way of shunning confrontations with him/her.
Before the sun-set started waving us, my cousin received a phone call from my cousin’s friend, William. And this call made my night startled as if i had seen a ghost. All voice from him said that the teacher, Mr kwenda was murdered by the armed robbers when he was going back to his home at baobab tree. This shocking news was come about on yesterday, evening.
With this sorrowful news drilled out the river of tear from all villagers.
In the morning of the following day, I and my cousin, Richard were rashed to go to the late kwenda’s house for attending a funeral ceremony. When we reached there, we found many people. However, we didn’t get astonish because Mr kwenda was a humble, respectable as well as friendly man. And he was a popular man, because he was teaching at Ziwe community Day School.
After we escorted the body of kwenda to the tranquil place where he was buried. We went back to home with various stories about the life of kwenda.
As usual in the evening, I was reading some novels and newspaper that my father would get from his office. My father was working at certain company as a cleaner. In newspaper I liked to read a page of literature corner. This page was full of short stories and poems. Because of evincing an assiduous spirit in reading newspaper and books had been encouraging my mind to assimilate everything. Even at school I was doing well despite I was living in the house of no electricity.
From that time my parents, brothers, sisters and cousin would be proud when i had been selected to boarding school at Blantyre secondary school. And even many people of Chateka village were extremely giving me a lovely felicitations.I was received the blessings of advise from the chief that education is the only golden key for my futurity. Although he had been greatly expressed this, But he gave me some money as a token of appreciation for what I had been successfully done. Because I was only me in Chiteka village who was selected to the government secondary school.
When the dates were almost beckoning the lovely journey to boarding school for me. My parents could have been already brought everything that requires for the secondary student. In the morning of the following day, I incepted to gleam my journey of going to school in Blantyre. With my father as he was escorting me, before we had seen a main road, this journey seemed long. It had been a long journey and the September heat did not help much. The woman who seated beside my father, I requested her to open the windows for ventilation. But then at high speed the dust poured into the bus.
With the grace of heavenly father we arrived in Blantyre city well and in good time. Then after some hours at depot area we had seen and heard the minibus and voice respectively that this minibus was going to Ndirande. Blantyre secondary school was located at Ndirande area. Almost forty-five minutes we reached at BSS gate.
“Hello, Sir. How can I do for you? The gateman asked my father.
“Yes! I come with my son. He has been selected here.” My father replied blissfully.
After he heard what my father had said, he immediately opened the gate. Then we passed. And the gateman gave us the map of how we could manage to walk to the office of headmaster.
In few minutes from the gate, we had espied a signable direction of saying the headmaster office is room number 3. After seeing it, we were strongly walking straight to room 3.
When we reached there, my father was gently knocking the sheenly wooden door of room 3. Suddenly, we heard a commendable voice from inside that get in.
“Yes, how are you?”. The headmaster greeted us with smiling face.
“We are fine, Sir”. My father answered confidently. And before the headmaster asked anything to us, my father continued verbalising the real intention why we were there.
However, the headmaster said, “I knew already why you are here”. He carried on, ” this boy has been selected here, and is only him who come first particularly for all children who have been selected here from the various primary school this year”.
“What is your name boy?”. The headmaster asked me. “My name is Philip Chiuzeni”. I answered.
After I answered him, then I saw a hundred pages of book in his hands. And he was seriously checking my name if it was on the list of selected students. Fortunately, he found my name which was on number fifty.