“It’s sunrise… Get up now son. We have a long day ahead of us.  And fix the roof before you do anything else. The heavy rains are about to start any time from today.”

….

………

“Juma! Get up!”

The deep loud voice echoed across the circular mud hut into Juma’s small ears who was dead asleep.

In his dreams, he was standing on top of the largest mountain in all the land. He looked around and saw the breathtaking view of the land: the exotic birds flying into the sunset, the green trees swaying as the wind plucked away the brown and tired leaves from their home and they slowly placed them onto the moving stream nearby.

The view was to die for. He watched as the sun set, slowly turning the daylight brightness into dark orange. He continued observing the horizon, and he soon spotted his village. He looked closely and saw his mud hut, which was at the edge of the village.

He smiled.

He looked towards the left side of the mountain and saw it.

He saw what he had been told endless stories about.

A place where people went poor and suddenly emerged rich. The place where only adults were allowed to go into.

He glanced closer and saw a group of men tirelessly hitting the ground.

“Juma!”

He heard his father’s voice calling for him. He looked around and noticed he was all alone at the edge of the mountain.

The voice called again ad he turned fearfully, trying to locate the source of the sound. The sound hit him from all corners as it echoed across the mountain and the trees, making birds scanter away from their nests.

He felt dizzy.

His legs became lighter and lighter.

He looked down and his ankle left the ground, followed by his toes. He wiggled them in amazement as the wind blew him away from the rocky edge of the mountain. He looked at the view and it was more breathtaking than before. He stretched his hands and felt the wind lifting him towards the clouds. Dry leaves tagged along beneath him as the wind made them dance around his feet. He let out a laughter, showing his well-arranged teeth. He could not believe it was happening. He was in the moment.

And then, just like that, the wind was gone.

The leaves that were dancing beneath him began shaking as they headed to the ground.

And so did he.

He felt his body getting heavier. He fearfully stretched his hands hoping to grab onto something, anything that would enable him escape the inevitable outcome which was seconds from happening.

But of course, nothing could save him.

Nothing.

His upward motion suddenly stopped and he started heading downwards. He was falling. And he knew it. His legs were now facing upwards and his head facing downwards. The same ground which was very far away from him was now patiently waiting for his triumphant return.

Triumphant indeed.

The fall got more intense as he saw the ground getting closer and closer to him. He closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands. He closed his eyes and waited.

He waited. Hoping it would end very soon.

But instead it did not end. He slowly opened his eyes and he was still falling down. The ground which was near him was surprisingly far away.

He was falling for the second time.

And this time the fall was faster. Unexplainably faster. This time round he decided not to close his eyes. He felt the need to witness the phenomena unfolding before his eyes. He saw the trees getting closer to him. He hit the trees as he fell down. The branches scratched his skin as he arrived at his destination: the brown ground.

He hit the ground, dispersing a significant amount of dust. He felt a sharp pain through his whole body.

And then he opened his eyes.

He jumped out of his cotton blanket and sat upright. He breathed heavily as he looked around his mud room. He touched his face and it was all sweaty and shivering. He took deep breaths as he looked around: confused as to why he is still alive.

Or maybe I am in heaven? H thought.

He wished.

The morning sun struck his eyes as he faced the window. The sunlight miraculously restored his brain to factory settings and he finally realized he was in a dream.

One crazy dream.

He got out of his bed and stretched his arms up in the air, nearly piercing through the makuti roof. He lazily yawned and stretched his skinny body like a wet sponge being dried of its waters. He felt his backbone crackle, a sign of freedom from the endless curving and winding throughout the night.

“Juma!! Hurry up!!!”

His father’s deep voice echoed across his hut as he leaped into action.

He slowly walked out of his hut, and the sun was already out: something he was not used to seeing sinc3 he was an early riser. The sun’s rays blinded his sleepy eyes, making them shut repeatedly as he looked around. Everyone was awake, going about their daily activities. The whole village was booming with activities. The women were busy entering the village with firewood tied to their backs. They were dropped at the edge of the village which was the central cooking point for the whole village.

Everyone was up and about. Except him. His Royal Highness. The one who wakes up when he sees fit.

He saw his father staring fiercely at him, with his hands crossed on his chest.

He was one of the village elders: a highly respected position.

He steadily walked to where Juma was standing and placed his hands firmly on his shoulder. He towered of little Juma, who raised his head upwards to look at his father.

“Why did you wake up late. You know what we are supposed to do today.”

His father’s deep voice vibrated into his ears as he swallowed a lump of saliva into his throat.

“I…I… I… I…”

He stammered as words refused to come out of his mouth.

He remembered hearing his father’s endless calls while he was in dreamland.

“I… I… I was asleep,” he finally uttered the short sentence.

His father looked at him and faintly smiled.

“It seems it was quite an interesting dream. Do you mind telling me?”

Juma dug deep into his memory to collect the remaining fragments of the dream. He was about to narrate to his father the greatest dream ever.

But it was not there. He tried remembering the dream but it there was nothing to be remembered.

Only emptiness.

His father began walking and he swiftly followed along.

“Good morning mzee.”

Everyone who passed him greeted him: a sign of respect for an elder member of community. Juma and his father headed into his mother’s hut for some breakfast. They entered the hut and his mother and two sisters were patiently seated on the ground waiting for them to join in eating breakfast.

“Finally, the king awakes from his beautiful sleep!” one of his sisters teased loudly while laughing. They giggled as they pointed at Juma who sat next to his father. His mother got up and bent down next to the large clay pot at the edge of the hut. She opened the pot and began serving them a cup of hot porridge each. She carried the five cups of porridge using a wooden frame and placed them between them. As usual, the father was the first to take the porridge, followed by the mother, and finally the children began scrambling for the largest porridge.

“I’ll take this one,” Juma said as he grabbed the cup which was being held by one of his sisters.

“No, it’s mine. take the other one,” She pulled the cup back towards her, making a lump of porridge to fly off the cup, landing on the father’s shoulder.

The children watched as the porridge tricked slowly from their father’s shoulder.

He looked at the mess. And then looked at the children with the fiery eyes.

They immediately stopped arguing and silently began sipping their porridge; with a slight giggle from the girls.

“So you are taking Juma beyond the fields today,” Juma’s mother asked the father.

“Yes, I think he is now old enough to see what happens beyond the farms. He might choose between working in the farms or beyond.

“Wow Juma, you are going to see the place which is forbidden to adults only! Congratulations on becoming an adult. although you are still our little brother. Remember that…” One of the sisters said as the whole family burst into laughter.

Juma’s father let out a faint smile as he sipped his last remaining porridge.

“Nikuongezee baba Juma” Juma’s mother asked as she took the cup from him, preparing to stand and fetch more porridge for her husband.

“ No… Asante nimeshiba,” he responded as he took a deep breath.

“I want more porridge!” One of his sisters said as she gave her cup to her mother. She got up and walked to the pot, scooped the porridge and walked back. She handed the porridge to her daughter, who happily took it and began gulping it down, savoring every drop of sweetness.

Juma finished his porridge and waited for his father to get up. It was customary after eating the father would always be the first to stand.  His father got up and stretched. He took his long wooden cane, which he used to walk with it since Juma was a child.

“Come son, let’s go,” He said as he walked out of the hut.

“Bye brother, don’t get eaten by lions out there,” one of his sisters teased him as he walked out of the hut.

His stomach was now full for the day. He walked alongside his father towards the main entrance of the village.

“Where are we going by the way?” He asked curiously.

His father looked at him and smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll explain everything along the journey.”

Juma was confused. “The journey? How far is it?” He asked.

“Its past the farms and into the forest where……”

Before he could finish explaining to his son, a group of community warriors came towards Juma’s father. They confidently walked towards them and stood in front of them. Juma looked at them in shock as he had never seen a warrior before. They wore leopard skins around their bodies and wore sandals crafted out of cow hide. Their heads were covered with ostrich feathers, which are known as the Warrior’s Head. They were heavily built, with muscles bulging out of their arms and legs. They had a long, shiny spear in one of their hands, while the other hand held a sharp, shiny machete.

Juma was bewildered: he had never seen a weapon so shiny and magnificent.

They greeted Juma’s father and whispered something in his ear. His cool facial expression was suddenly transformed into a face of shock and surprise. His eyes opened widely and he looked at his son.

“Wait for me here. I’ll be back in a minute,” He said as he walked a few with the warriors a few meters away from him.

Juma looked at them curiously as they conversed, preparing all sorts of questions he would ask his father when his brief meeting with the warriors was over.

“So tell me where did you hear this news?” Juma’s father asked one of the warriors.

“We have heard tales of villages being torched to the ground along the Great Ocean. A new tribe has entered our land from the ocean with large white floating things. They have been described as having strange physical appearance. We came down the mountain as soon as we received this information. It is a matter of time before they attack our village.”

Juma’s father listened to the warrior’s words as he finished speaking. He looked down and scratched his head, a sign that he was in deep thinking.

“Go to the other elders and tell them what you told me. And then when you are done head to the rest of the villages and warn them of an impending attack from an intruder.  I’m taking my son beyond the farms and I will be back before bats come out of their caves.”

“Sawa,” They responded as they walked towards the elder’s hut which was located between the village.

The whole village watched as the warriors entered the elders hut.

Juma watched as his father walked towards him.

“Let’s go son. We need to be back soon,” He said as he led Juma out of the village. Juma walked alongside his father, beaming with excitement.

“Why are the warriors here father. And why are their weapons very shiny?”

“Umm…. They are here because they need to talk to the elders about recruiting more warriors,” his father responded.

“Wow! I want to be a warrior father! I’ll be big and strong and…”

“I’m sure you will son.”

Juma and his father were now approaching the farms. It was a familiar place to Juma since he spent most of his time here, digging and looking after cattle. The farms were a busy place where each member of the village took turns in ploughing the land in preparation for the coming rains.

But the farms were the only place he knew. He had been told repeatedly that going beyond the farms was forbidden by the elders. only few people were allowed to go there.

But today was the day he was about to find out.

They walked towards the edge of the farm and reached the end of the ploughed land. Juma looked back at the large tract of land in which he spent all his life in. He looked in front and they were now approaching the forest.

He was about to enter the forest for the first time.

His first time into the unknown.

He looked at his father who was facing straight ahead. His fearlessness was astonishing to him since he was narrated endless stories of how dangerous the forest was and it being haunted by spirits of dead warriors who died fighting the forest beasts.

He slowly walked behind his father, making taking every step he takes. They had now entered the forest and the bright daylight sunlight became dimmer. He looked up, and instead of being burned in the eyes by the brutal rays of the sun, the tall trees above him made a canopy that plunged the surrounding into darkness. He carefully walked as his bare feet squashed the dried leaves beneath him. the silence he was used to at the farm was now replaced with hooting and hissing and buzzing of various animals around him: it was a marvelous concoction of animal sounds which filled his tiny ears with curiosity.

The forest was alive.

Alive with sounds he had never heard before.

He walked closely behind his father, who used his long sharp machete to slash through the bushes and twigs, creating a small path for both of them to pass. The slashing also helped scare away any animal that may be lurking under the dense grass. they were now deep in the jungle. Juma looked back and saw the endless bushes behind him while trying to figure out which way they came from.  But there was no path behind him: only bushes and squirrels jumping from tree to tree.

He was scared. The kind of scared where you don’t know where you are coming from and going to. You are but a mere follower of your parent’s footsteps.

But the tree of trust built in you by your parent gives you a sense hope and positivity that all will be well.

The duo continued venturing deep into the forest. His father was focused on clearing the heavy bushes ahead of them: Juma’s eyes were wide open with curiosity written all over his face.

“Look!” he shouted as he pointed at a large porcupine coming towards him. He beamed with excitement as the shy animal slowly walked towards his feet, smelling his toes. It walked around sniffed his ankles. He knelt down and touched its pointy spines.

“Ouch!” He shrieked loudly as the spine pierced through his palm. The animal quickly retracted from him and ran away into the bushes, vanishing as quickly as it appeared. His father looked behind and smiled.

“Well that’s what you get for messing with a porcupine,” He said as he took his hand and smeared some soil into the area.

“A porcu what?” Juma asked confused.

“It’s called a porcupine. Luckily it is not poisonous. Let’s go now. The soil will ease the pain. We are almost there.”

True to his words, Juma felt the sharp pain gradually reduce.

A life hack learned.

Courtesy of his father’s ingenuity.

“How far is it?” Juma asked his father, who was busy clearing the bushes.

He stopped.

“Shh. Can you hear it?”

Juma stood still and listened keenly. He only heard the sound of birds flying above him.

“I… I… I don’t hear anything.”

“Listen carefully,” His father responded.

He ‘listened carefully’ as his father instructed, not knowing what listening carefully meant.

But he tried anyway.

The sound of insects buzzing was all over his ears.

And then he heard it.

He listened and heard the sound again.

He looked at his father in shock, who nodded at him with a smile.

“Aah yes, now you hear it. We are almost there. “

Juma heard loud bangs coming from somewhere in the middle of the forest.

His father kept walking and he quickly waked behind him. he wondered where the loud bangs were coming from in the middle of nowhere. He knew nobody lived in this dangerous forest. The bangs became louder as they kept walking.

“Where is that noise coming from,” Juma finally asked his father.

“I will explain it to you when we get there. Don’t worry.”

His father was the epitome of suspense. No matter your level of curiosity, you needed to be patient with him or else you will be left wandering into the darkness, completely clueless.

The bang was now becoming deafening, and it reverberated across the forest after every countable number of seconds. Sunlight was now becoming brighter as they drew closer to the place.

The place which Juma had no idea of.

“We are here.” His father said as he stopped clearing the bushes. They emerged from the forest and Juma felt the sun soothing his skin after a long time.

“Come son,” his father said as he let Juma walk in front of him. slowly, he walked past his father and then stopped.

He saw it.

And it was astonishing.

He around and saw a large portion of cleared land, similar to the farm at his village. At the center of the cleared land was a huge hole which went deep into the ground. Around the hole were large heaps of soil and stones: so huge that they seemed like small hills. He looked at his father in shock: and then looked at the huge hole on the ground.

A loud bang came from the hole that made his feet vibrate. The sound echoed from the hole and travelled throughout the forest.

“Welcome to the mine field son,” His father said. He looked around the place, and then behind them.

Then he spoke.

“This is the place that is forbidden to the villagers except the elders.

“What is a mine field?” Juma asked in surprise as the loud bang was heard again from the hole: now given a new name by his father as mine pit.

“Our ancestors blessed this part of the forest and it possesses immense wealth. When our warriors attack and raid our enemies on the other side of the Great Mountain, they take them here where they work for the rest of their lives in the mine pits below. This place is only known to the elders and the warriors of the village. Women and children are only told vague rumors about the place to avoid spilling the secret to the rest of the village.”

Juma listened as his father explained to him the intricate details of the place.

“So what is this immense wealth that is in the ground?” Juma asked, bewildered.

His father knelt down and placed his hands behind his left leg. He took out a shiny knife which he always placed on the back of his leg and tied it with a piece of cloth. The sun’s rays reflected on the knife, making it shine in front of their eyes.

“You see this knife son, it’s made of silver,” He said as handed the knife to him. Juma took the knife and looked at it: amazed at its beauty.”

 “Juma spoke as he turned the knife around to have a closer look. He was completely fascinated by it.”

“Yes it is. Silver is a very rare item. We are blessed to have it in our land that’s why we guard it with our lives. We use it to make weapons among other farming tools. We also trade the commodity with the neighboring community in exchange of animals and crops. Silver is the backbone of our village my son. And it needs to be protected at all costs.

Juma immediately recalled seeing the warriors in at his village with shiny weapons.

It hit him; He was able to connect the dots seamlessly.

“And what is that noise coming from down there?”

“That is the sound of workers hitting the ground using chisels and hammers.”

His father responded as the loud bang echoed from the mine pit.

“Where are the workers?” Juma asked curiously.

His father did not respond. He moved closer to the mine pit and looked down. Juma carefully followed his father and peeped down the mine pit.

It was one deep mine. There were ropes dangling from all corners of the mine, all leading to the bottom.

“I see one person down there,” Juma said as he pointed down.

 His father looked in that direction and saw him. he was in a system of confusion as to why he was alone yet when he last visited the mine there were almost one hundred captured enemies working at the pit.

“Wewe!” His father shouted.  His echo bounced from the pit and vibrated throughout the forest.

It seemed like a middle-aged man was hitting the ground with a chisel. He stopped hitting and looked up towards them. He stared at them, not uttering a word.

“where are the rest,” Juma’s father shouted.

The man kept staring at both of them. He turned back towards the ground and then hit the ground thrice, making three loud bangs. The bangs were louder than before and they made Juma’s body vibrate continuously.

His father looked around the mine pit confused. He walked away from the hole and went a few steps towards the large heap of sand. Juma followed him curiously behind him.

His father stopped walking. Juma walked towards him and saw his father’s hands tightly clench the machete. He looked toward the heap of sand.

There was a dead body lying next to the heap of sand. He had a leopard skin covering his body and ostrich feathers around his head. Juma was shocked.

 He had never seen a dead warrior before. Until now.

His father looked closely and saw a deep circular wound on his left side of the chest. He looked closer and saw a shiny thing underneath the wound. Juma watched as his father placed his fingers inside the wound. He dug deep into the wound with his two fingers and they came out holding a small spherical ball. Juma’s father looked at it in surprise.

For the first time, Juma saw his all-knowing father confused.

He keenly observed the ball, wondering what it was.

“What is that,” Juma asked curiously.

“I… I… I don’t know.  And it’s made of silver,” his father responded.

There was a loud bang that made birds scamper for safety. Juma looked behind and watched as the birds flew away from their nests into the deeper part of the forest. The noise was louder than usual. He looked at the mine pit, which was few meters from him.

“He must have hit a large rock, right father,” Juma spoke as he turned back to face his father.

He stood there looking directly at him. He slowly opened his mouth to speak to his son.

Blood began coming out of his mouth. His eyes became wider and he knelt down. He placed his hands on his chin and looked at the blood that was oozing from his mouth.

“Father!” Juma screamed as he ran towards his father: confused.

He fell on the ground in pain as his son knelt beside him. Juma was confused, not knowing what to do.

“Help!! Anybody!!” He shouted.

But there was nobody there. Only trees. And birds. And insects.

“Umepiga wapi… Kwa mgongo.”

Juma heard slurred and indistinct chatters from the thick bushes. He watched as his father struggled to breath. They looked at each other in the eyes, with Juma shedding tears.

“Father! Wake up!” He shouted.

His father eyes became weaker and they slowly shut down, never to be opened again.

He had already slipped into the never-ending slumber.

Juma heard footsteps coming from the bushes.

“finally, someone Help!!” He shouted as he held his father’s lifeless body on his hands. The footsteps grew stronger and he eagerly waited for someone to rush to his help.

Two people emerged from the thicket. His wide smile on his face turned into a frown. He looked at the two people and none of them was familiar to him.

They were not from his village.

Not at all.

He watched them in surprise: particularly one of them.

He was unusual; he had not seen such a human being before.

One of them wore a cow skin around his body, with eagle feathers surrounding his clean shaven head; an indication he was a warrior from the neighboring community.

But the other one was one of a kind.

He gracefully walked along the other person; each step carefully calculated before leaving and hitting the ground. His skin was astonishing. It was white; the kind of white Juma saw when milk was being milked from cows by his mother.

His skin was white: unlike the other guy.

He looked at the man’s dressing and he even got more confused. He was wearing strange looking attire all over his body and instead of feathers on his head which was common. His eyes were blue and white, instead of the usual brown and white.

He was a white man:

Rumors had been going around the village about strange-looking people who had come to their land using ships with white sails.

Juma immediately realized that the rumors were indeed true.

And he was in the presence of one of them. He looked at his hands and he had a strange looking weapon. It was a long black metal thing with a large hole at the end. He held it using a curved handle and placed his finger on small piece of metal. The hole at the end of the weapon was red, and white smoke was coming out.

“Shika huyo mtoto!” The white man spoke using the local dialect as he pointed the weapon at Juma. He stood up and looked behind. He looked back and the white man pointed his weapon at him. 

He had to make a run for it.

Before he could even run, the man from the neighboring community pounced on him and grabbed his tiny arm.

“Handcuff him!” the white man commanded as he lowered his weapon.

The warrior dug into his leather pouch and took out a large shiny chain. He made Juma stand upright and placed his hands together on his stomach. Juma watched as the chain was tightly wound around his hands. He looked at them closely and they were very shiny: similar to his father’s knife.

It was silver.

The chain was made from silver.

The white man walked towards Juma’s father and placed his hand on his neck.

“He’s dead.” He said as he rolled his body, making the backside face upwards. He Had a large wound on his back.

“Too bad, he would have made a very fine slave just like the rest of the miners.”

The white man walked towards Juma and looked at him from head to toe.

“This one looks healthy. He will grow up to become a strong one. Round him up with the others. We are behind schedule. One more village is remaining. The one in that direction.”

He pointed to the direction of Juma’s village: the same direction they had used to come to the mine.

“We need to capture as many slaves as possible.”

The warrior nodded in agreement as he lifted Juma and placed him on his shoulder.

He began walking towards the mine pit.

Juma’s heart raced with tension as he imagined being thrown into the dark abyss.

The warrior reached at the edge of the hole. He looked down and saw the middle aged man who was hitting the ground with the chisel.

“Keep hitting the ground. We need as many people to come here as possible.” He shouted to the man who nodded.

“I took out his tongue. He won’t spill a thing to anyone,” The warrior said to Juma as they walked away from the mine and into the forest.

Juma tried freeing himself but the chains were too strong for a mere child like him: and the strong arms of the warrior held his body like a piece of firewood. He was unable to do anything.

“Don’t worry kid, your new home awaits.”

Juma looked behind and saw the white man walking behind him. He took out a short straight thing and placed it on his mouth. He then lit a small fire using his hands and placed it on the short straight thing. He took a deep breath in and took it away from his mouth. He breathed out and smoke came out of his mouth.

Juma watched in amazement as he put the stick in his mouth and exhaled smoke.

This was not an ordinary human to him.

It was a supernatural spirit.

The white man looked at Juma and laughed hysterically.

They walked deep into the forest and emerged on the other side of the forest. The warrior dropped Juma on the ground like a sack of potatoes. He landed on the ground smoothly; not as he had expected.

The soil was unusually smooth: and white. He felt a cool breeze brushing through his body. He turned back and saw it.

There was plenty of water behind him. too much water that he could not see the end of it.

It was the ocean.

There were five large ships with white sails swaying as the ocean wind blew the water in all directions, making them slightly dance on the water.

He looked around and saw a large group of people standing in a long straight line at the shores of the ocean, boarding the ships one by one. They had silver chains around their necks and legs, with each one tied to the other person. On the ships there were men with long weapons pointed at the ones who were boarding.

“Faster!” One of the men shouted as he whipped one of the slave who was having difficulty boarding the ship. The whip landed on his back, peeling his black skin off.

“Hey, kuja uchukue huyu,” The white man shouted as one of the guards rushed towards him. He grabbed Juma and looked at him.

“Come along now.” He grabbed the silver chain on his hands and dragged him on the beach towards the large crowd.

“We will name you John,” The guard told him as he placed heavy silver chain on his neck.

“No my name is Ju….”

A heavy slap landed on his face before he could even complete his sentence. He rolled on the ground in pain as the other captives looked at him in pity; unable to do anything.

“What is your name?” The man asked Juma, staring at him with fiery eyes. He looked at the other captives and one of them who had a huge scar on his face nodded at him.

“My name. My name…my name is J…J… John.”

He uttered the name as instructed. The man smiled at him and placed him at the end of the line, awaiting to board the ship. He was about to be taken to an unknown place; away from his family and everything he knew.

“Yes. Good boy.” The guard patted Juma on his head.

“Your name is now John.”

The sun was now setting, making the ship cast large shadows on the beach. John felt the ocean’s waves on his small feet, making the silver chain on his feet tremble uniformly with the movement of the waves. He watched as the people in front of him got into the ship; and it was almost his turn. He looked behind and saw the vast jungle behind him; wishing for the tiniest of opportunity to avail itself do that he could scamper away to the safety of his village and his family.

But that was just wishful thinking.

Everything he knew was about to change completely.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

THE END

“We are gathered here to celebrate a life well lived of my brother, Mr. James. His sun rose on August 24^th 1985 and set on the 30^th of June 2019. His life on Earth was full of up and downs, to say the least. But this did not stop him. He went from a young farmer in the sloppy hills of our region to one of the richest men in the country. He has helped thousands of people all over the country with the great position and wealth given to him by the Almighty. Everything he did was for the benefit of the community. We are all angry and bitter about what happened to him. I am personally very angry about his sudden and shocking death. He was my brother and I loved him so much. I cannot even imagine his last moments as he watched the watched the horror unfold in his eyes. This is just…just disheartening…I…I…” He stopped talking and looked down.

He could not hold back his tears. Not anymore after this short speech that filled the compound with tears and deep emotions.

His brother was gone. Taken from the world. Gone forever. And that was something he was going to live with until the last of his days. The whole family was there. Plus James’ friends and business associates. The large compound which was surrounded by a 6 foot wall was filled with people: for the first time since the house was constructed. The large mansion stood at the end of the compound: a one of its kind in the rural area.

A few meters next to the main entrance of the mansion, he lay there. A golden coffin, shinning in the midday sun, filled with flowers from end to end. The coffin was placed on a metallic stand, complete with beautiful decorations from the top to bottom. It was placed there so that all could see.

The dress code was of course black. All black from head to toe. People were seated on black plastic chairs. Black glasses of water. Black. Black. Black. Black was everywhere.

And so was the mood of the day. Black.

Everyone who knew Mr. James was there. From his huge number of business associates all the way to his family members. After all, he was the wealthiest individuals in the region, so who wouldn’t come to his final day above the ground? People were seated on the neatly arranged plastic chairs, each one of them holding the eulogy of the departed. A black, 200 pages book containing his history from sunrise to sunset. Indeed he had lived a long adventurous life: one of a kind. Seated at the front row of the plastic chairs were James’ family. His beautiful, young wife Cynthia and two children, Mercy and Faith: two gorgeous twins. His princesses as he used to call them. They were seated together with Cynthia between the twins, holding them tightly while trying as much as possible to prevent them from seeing her cry.

“What’s wrong mommy?” One of them asked in a sweet, soft voice.

“Don’t worry baby. Everything is going to be all right.”

“You told me daddy is asleep in that wooden thing over there. Why hasn’t he woken up?”

“Yes, baby. Daddy is just sleeping. Don’t worry. Now take my phone and play your favorite game.”

She took out her phone and gave it to them. She watched them as they giggled while pressing the phone. She felt sad for them. Her included. She knew that when they were older they would be able to understand the inevitable concept of death.

But for now let them enjoy Candy Crush.

For Now.

On the far right end of the first row, she sat quietly, staring blankly at the golden coffin. She had not uttered a single word since she was told of her son’s untimely death. She wore a black hat that covered a considerate proportion of her upper face. The outfit was completed with a black gown that went all the way to her black leather boots. She took out her black handkerchief from her black purse and lightly wiped away a drop of tear that escaped from her right eye after being held captive for too long. She wiped the tear and neatly returned the handkerchief to her purse. She looked at the coffin. Keenly. As though it would magically open and her son would get up and do whatever dead people do when they resurrect.

But it was not going to happen. Not for a very long time.

She looked towards the left side and saw Cynthia. Next to her were the twins playfully laughing while playing their favorite game. She looked at her for a while. Hoping that she will turn and face her side. Cynthia looked towards the right and saw James’ mother staring directly at her. Her deep blue eyes locked onto her brown watery eyes. The look was of both grief and loathe. Her eyes were hot steel and she was solid ice: smoothly piercing her from the outside on the most brutal way unimaginable.

She looked at her. She looked back. A fierce battle of gaze exchange.

But this was not something Cynthia had wanted.

Overwhelmed, Cynthia looked away from the mother and faced her daughters’ direction and pretended to play with them. James’ mother still gazed at her for some time before looking down, bursting into tears.

“Look mommy, grandma is crying” one of the twins said as she pointed towards her.

“Yeah why is she crying?” The other twin asked their mother. They got up energetically and ran towards their grandmother while smiling.

“No…No…No… Come back here… Don’t disturb your grandm…” Before she could even finish her sentence and think of getting up, the twins were hovering all over their grandmother. They ran towards her, as she quickly wiped her tears with her gloved hands.

“Hey grandma why are you crying…”

“I…I…I…

Dust blew in my eye that is why…” She stammered as the twins sat next to her, with smiles all over their faces.

If only they knew.

“Why don’t you go and play with your uncle…” Their grandma said as she pointed towards him.

“Ok,” They said as they quickly ran towards him. He was seated a few meters next to her, not uttering a word since he broke down into tears a while ago while giving his speech. He sat there, eyed fixed to the coffin. The twins came at him with all their little energetic selves. But he was totally unbothered. The twins were running around him but he did not move a single muscle. A man in deep thought. Wondering why did his beloved brother meet his end in the most horrible way.

Nobody knew. And no one would ever know.

The front row seats were occupied by James’ family, with the far sides sat by two sworn mortal enemies: his mother and his wife. It was clear that the only thing which prevented them from attacking and wreaking havoc to each other were the two young beautiful twins whom they both loved dearly. They were the family’s weakness: the unseen bond of love that held the family intact. The other seats were occupied by his uncles, nephews and all his close family members. The other seats behind were occupied by his huge number of friends he has gathered throughout his life. And the diversity was unmatched. The compound was filled with people from all corners of the globe. His ‘global family’ as he was fond of calling them. It was a sight to behold how an individual from one of the most rural areas in the country could amass such wealth and friendships from all over the world.

Such a wonder.

The clock was ticking 3 in the afternoon. The day that once began as cloudy and dull began to change as the clouds drifted away, leaving the sun to bless the planet with its light. People were finishing their lunch, which was prepared by hired chefs who came all the way from the capital. They has prepared a wonderful three course meal which everyone enjoyed before commencing with the main activity of the day.

“I’m so sorry for you loss,” an elderly man came to Cynthia and comforted her. She looked at him and immediately recognized him. It was Eliud, one of James’ closest and most trusted friend. He was a good family friend. Cynthia got up and gave him one huge hug while crying. He hugged her back while comforting her.

“Don’t worry. We are with you until the end,” He said as he helped her sit down. He proceeded to greet James’ mother who was also delighted to see him.

“Just sit here, with us. You are family remember,” she said as she offered a seat next to her. He gladly accepted and sat next to her.

In some few minutes, the murmuring was over and everyone was seated calmly. The pastor woke up from his seat and went and stood next to the coffin. He was scheduled to deliver a summon before the body was laid to rest. This was going to be his second sermon of the day. A wooden pulpit was neatly prepared next to him. He made two loud coughs and everyone was dead silent. All eyes were on him. He looked at the coffin once again and began preaching. On this day, he did not wear the usual white garment: this time it was all different. He wore black; from head to toe, complete with a black cross dangling from his chest.

“We are gathered here to commemorate the life of the late James, whose life was ended abruptly by some enemies of progress in this country. We all know he was a great man. What he has done for the community will make him keep receiving blessings even after his death. Whoever killed him will not have peace for the rest of his days. He will pay for what he has done to our beloved brother. Malipo ni hapa hapa duniani.

Everyone nodded rhythmically as the pastor continued with his bitter summon. He narrated how he had known the deceased since he was a little boy and how they would go to the river and fetch water. He gave detailed description of how they were raised together in the same community and how his death was shocking to him.

Shocking to all of us as a matter of fact.

Everyone listened to him as he emphasized the need for unity during these trying times. James’ mother and his wife Cynthia looked at each other once more. Eyes of fire. And then they looked away.

The pastor noticed the tense moment but simply continued preaching.

His preaching lasted several hours as each and every family member stood in front of everybody and say whatever crosses his or her mind about the departed. First was James’ mother, who had wrote an emotional tribute for his son. He had personally penned it down for him the previous night. She got up, her knees weak from the grief; her son rushed towards her and helped her walk straight next to her other son’s coffin. She opened her purse and took out a piece of paper with writings on it. A microphone was quickly given to her. She held it, her hands visibly shaking. And then she began reading from the paper.

“…Rest in peace my son,” she finished reading five minutes later. She tried as much as possible to hold herself together. She was escorted back to her seat. James’ wife followed next with her emotional tribute to her husband. She held her two daughters with each hand. Both of them were smiling and waving at the congregation as they looked at their mother while giggling.

If only they knew.

She completed her tribute and proceeded to sit down, bursting into tears. She had lost the hang of it. Next were the friends and associates of the deceased who poured out their hearts to the departed. Soon, all those who felt they had something to say had spoken out.

The pastor gave the signal for the commencement of the next schedule.

The coffin was brought next to him. He removed the beautifully arranged flowers on top of the coffin and carefully placed them on a table. On the right side of the coffin, there was a blue button. He carefully pressed the button and the top part began to open up.

It was time to view the body.

The first ones to view were the family of course. James’ mother was first in line. She slowly got up and walked towards the half-opened coffin. She reached where the coffin was and saw him: lying there: unable to move a single muscle. His son who was a source of life and love for the family was no more. Forever silent in these four wooden walls. She gave her son one last look while leaning towards him. He gave his cold cheek a kiss, looked at him one final time and went towards her seat.

Next was his wife.

She slowly walked towards the coffin, with her two daughters closely following behind her. She had never seen her husband after his shooting. She was nervous. More nervous than ever. She walked towards the coffin while the pastor let out his hand to move her closer. She stopped next to the coffin and looked inside.

He lay there. Dressed in a shiny blue suit: his favorite color.

She looked at him. His face. And neck. He was the same person he once knew. Except for two things. His neck had a large gaping hole next to the throat. It was visible from far. It was covered with a white cotton cloth tied around his neck. On top of his right eye was another hole, which was covered with a cotton cloth as well. They were both bullet wounds inflicted by his killer. Or killers. His face was still intact despite the physical injuries. She looked at him while crying.

“Hey mommy, can we see daddy?” One of the daughters asked her.

“Umm…Umm… you’ll see him next time honey,” she told her as she could not begin to imagine the children’s reaction when they see him like that.

“Is father waking up?” They asked while shaking her black dress.

The kind of questions children ask. They will leave you speechless because you don’t know the most accurate way to answer without revealing the whole truth to them.

“Yes, he will wake up. One day,” she answered them as she glanced at James one last time.

“Ok now, let’s go and sit down. No more questions,” Cynthia said as she led the twins to where they were seated. She went and sat down, the image of her dead husband’s disfigured structure still clear in her mind. She wondered who would do such a thing to someone who was loved by literally everybody in the community.

But that will remain a secret between James and the Lord.

One after the other, people lined up in long queues to view James’ body before he is laid to rest: final respects for the departed. The queue curved as people were eager to see him one last time.

“They are going to disturb daddy while he is taking his nap!” Yelled one of her daughters as she pointed at the coffin. Cynthia held her closely while bursting into tears.

“Poor child. She doesn’t know, does she?” One of the mourners murmured while they went to have a glance at James.

Few hours later, everyone had paid their last personal respects to him and it was now time for the final event. People returned to their seats as the pastor began his last sermon for the day. The last one for James.

He uttered a short prayer and told everyone to stand up and head towards the far end of the compound. Where the grave had been dug. His final destination.

Slowly, people rose from their seats and went to the gravesite.

“Let’s go now girls,” Cynthia said to her daughters as she began walking towards the grave.

She reached there and saw the six-foot rectangular hole. The depth only made her dizzy. She held her daughters tightly as the pastor stood next to her, holding the Bible in his chest with one hand.

“From dust you are and dust you shall return.” The pastor said the famous lines as he prayed painting the grave. The coffin was carefully placed on the lever and as the pastor finished reciting the Lord’s Prayer, the coffin was slowly and carefully laid down. People were crying and screaming as his body went into the grave. The coffin was lowered and it finally landed on the ground and stopped.

It was six feet under.

Cynthia reached for the pile of sand next to her and grabbed a handful of sand. He gave some to the twins and they went closer to the grave. She lifted her hand towards the coffin and released the sand, which fell on the bouquet of roses placed on the coffin. The twins followed her steps and poured sand on the coffin.

“What are we doing mommy?” One of them asked.

“This will help daddy wake up,” she answered back while smiling at them. They looked at each other while giggling. James’ mother did the same, followed by his brother, and the rest of the family followed suit as well.

Five men came with spades and began shoving the sand into the grave. The coffin was soon submerged in sand and the sand was filled to the top. He had now returned to dust.

From dust you are. And dust you shall return.

The burial ceremony was now over. The grave was filled with sand to the brim and a large wooden cross mounted on top of it. The final prayers were uttered.

The sun was now setting, as the wind blew the dust from the grave upwards into the sky. One by one, everyone began leaving the site and heading where they came from. He was now resting in peace. Cynthia, the twins and their grandmother went into the mansion since they were going to spend the night there before heading for the city the following morning.

“Ok girls, let’s eat and then go to sleep. We have a long day tomorrow,” Cynthia said to the twins as she poured food into plates and served them. The five of them; Cynthia, James’ mother, the twins and James’ brother were seated in the mansion’s living room as they quietly ate their food: still in disbelief as to what had happened. Nobody spoke to each other; just slight glances and stares. Everyone had now left the compound, leaving them to their home. They finished eating and the twins were led to their bedrooms.

“No mommy, I don’t wanna sleep alone. I’m scared.”

“Me too”

Cynthia understood. After what they had witnessed today, whether they had an idea or no idea at all, they hesitated to sleep alone.

“Ok then, you’ll sleep in my bed tonight. We will sleep together. How about that,” she told them and they all nodded in agreement. She led them to the master bedroom in which James and Cynthia used to sleep. She tucked them into their bed and told them goodnight.

“Let me go back and talk to grandma and uncle. I’ll be back in a few.” She said as she left the bedroom.

The three of them were now seated together. Looking at each other suspiciously.

“Ok now let’s talk about it. What happened to my brother,” James’ brother talked while staring at Cynthia. They both stared at her fiercely.

“Wait. You think I would kill my husband! Are you insane! I would never do that.”

“No one has said you killed him. Have we son?” James’ mother spoke while looking at her son.

“Nope,” He responded.

Cynthia looked at them shocked. For them to think that was unimaginable.

“We all know you hated your brother, maybe you tell us. And don’t you ever tell me that I did this to him.” Cynthia shouted to James’ brother.

He stood up furiously.

James’ mother stood up as well.

So did Cynthia.

The leather sofa sets had proven to be unsitable.

They all stood up looking at each other bitterly.

“The true killer is out there and we are busy fighting amongst ourselves instead of probing an investigation to the police. If James were here what would he have said if he saw us fighting?”

Everyone was quiet. Cynthia left the living room and went into her bedroom. She banged the door furiously behind her and jumped into her bed. Her two daughters were asleep next to her. She wept uncontrollably as she looked at her late husband’s photo which hung on the wall. She heard James’ brother and mother faintly murmuring in the living room before they each went to sleep in the other two large bedrooms. The whole mansion was quiet once again, except for the loud rumbling of thunder from afar. Moments later, it started raining. Heavily.

She tucked herself into her bed, said a short prayer and closed her eyes; which were still watery. She could not believe what she was being accused of. Of all things.

She slowly drifted into sleep.

……

She was woken up by a loud scream.

She opened her eyes and sat on the edge of the bed, blinking heavily. She brushed her eyes with her hands and lazily wore her slippers.

“I heard a scream mommy, who was that?” Her daughter spoke as she opened her eyes.

“Stay on the bed. Don’t move,” She told them as she got up and went out of the bedroom into the living room. She switched on the lights and saw the doors and windows were wide open. Cold wind blew across her, swaying her night dress. Lightning flashed outside, making the heavy rain visible. The trees in the compound were dangerously swaying as lightning kept on flashing. She looked on the floor and saw what appeared to be mud stains. A trail of mud stains went from the door into the bedrooms.

Another loud scream was heard.

This time she confirmed it was coming from the where James’ mother’s bedroom.

“What is it?” Asked the brother as he came out of his bedroom.

She pointed at the mud stains which led to her bedroom. They were surprised as they both rushed into the room.

She was standing at the corner of her bedroom, with hands on her head.

“What is it mother,” she was asked by her son.

She looked at him and opened her eyes wide.

She then pointed towards the other end of the room.

They turned their heads and saw what she was pointing at.

Cynthia made a loud scream as she moved backwards, her hands on her mouth. She made another scream. And another. And another. She heavily blinked, and then opened her eyes. It was true what she was seeing.

The brother just stood there, immobile. He moved his head forward to ascertain what he was looking at. He shifted his head sideways and it was indeed real what he was seeing.

He was standing at the corner of his mother’s bedroom. His whole body was covered in mud, which dripped on the floor, leaving behind a trail of dirt. He was not moving, except for his head which was slowly moving from side to side. His eyes were unusually open. On top of his right eye was a huge gaping hole which was wide open and one could see through his head. His neck also had a large gap that made his head slightly inclined towards the left.

It was James.

He looked at his wife. Then at his brother. And then at his mother. They were all shocked beyond normal. He shifted his eyes around the bedroom.

“H…H…How are you here?” His brother asked him while stammering, after gathering the little courage that had not been engulfed by fear and disbelief.

James turned his gaze towards him. Slowly, his right leg began moving. Followed by the left leg.

He was moving towards his brother.

He steadily walked towards him, with mud still dripping from his body. James reached where his brother was standing. His brother felt his horrible stench diving into his nostrils. He smelt strange. Smell of death. He gazed I directly into his eyes, which were pale white without pupils. His mother and wife watched in shock as his brother stood his ground. He looked at his bullet wounds, his blue suit which was now completely covered in mud.

James leaned to his brother’s ear. He opened his mouth and a deep, faint voice could be heard. He whispered for some seconds to his brother and then stopped. He moved away from him, looked straight at him and nodded.

“So that’s who killed you… Oh my God. Why?” James brother said as he could not believe what he was told. He looked at his mother, and sister-in-law in shock.

This changed it all.

He finally knew who killed his brother.

……….

“Hey look, its daddy!”

The twins ran into the bedroom towards James.

“No…No…No…” Before Cynthia could even finish, they were all over him.

“I told you daddy would wake up,” One of them said as she held her father’s hand while smiling.

“You smell funny daddy…. And you are all dirty…..And what you have a hole in your neck.”

James turned his eyes towards them. He knelt down and looked at her daughters.

“Why are your eyes white daddy,” One of them asked as she pointed at him. He looked at them. His daughters. His flesh and blood. His joy.

His two princesses.

He slowly pulled them to his side and gave them a hug. His head was dangling on his neck. But it did not seem to bother him.

“Get away from him girls!”

“Please don’t hurt my babies.”

Cynthia shouted as she waved at her daughters to come to her side.

James placed his arm around them and carried them up. He smiled as the twins enjoyed being carried by their father. The last time they were carried by their father was two weeks ago. When he was alive and well.

He looked at his wife, mother and brother. They looked at him back: shocked and terrified. He looked at his brother and nodded.

“Mommy, aren’t you happy? Daddy came back to us.”

Cynthia was horrified as she watched her daughters giggle in their father’s arms.

“Come grandma,” One of the twins waved at her. She was utterly speechless. Her cross was tightly held in her arms.

The lightning and thunder continued to cause havoc outside. A flash of lightning lit the bedroom, causing the lights to burst, spraying glass across the bedroom. The bright light made everyone cover their eyes. The twins could be heard giggling and their soft sounds slowly began to fade.

The flash of light disappeared and the room was plunged into darkness.

The emergency generator immediately went on and the lights came back on.

Cynthia, the brother and mother slowly opened their eyes. They heavily blinked and slowly looked around. They saw each other. They gazed their eyes towards the bedroom.

They were only the three of them.

James had gone. Disappeared. Vanished.

The twins were nowhere to be seen.

The spot where James was standing was empty. Except for the mud stains and two bracelets on the ground.

The twins’ bracelets.

They looked at each other in confusion.

The rain continued pouring as thunder and lightning fiercely rumbled outside. All windows and doors were wide open and the cold night wind blew across the room, smearing the mud stains across the mansion.

……………………………

“… You cannot imagine the level of excitement that is within me.  Finally, after seventy-five years of hard work and determination after acquiring our independence, the people of this country have achieved the first of its kind in Africa. We are so happy to be officially recognize as a first world country. All I can say is that we made it.”

“Thank you Mr. President for coming to the People’s radio station and delivering that amazing speech. Today is indeed a special day for all citizens to celebrate our achievements as a nation. And thank you once more Mr. President for leading us to this great achievement.”

“As I always say it’s my pleasure serving my people. Unity is everything. But this does not mean we should stop there. We have worked so hard to make the nation where it is today. We must continue upholding the nation’s laws to the latter. Thank you once more and God bless Kenya.”

…………

The date of this day was today, 27^th October 2038.

The news spread like wildfire. Radio stations, televisions, both local and abroad were focused on our small East African nation. World leaders from the powerful nations, including our beloved President were holding meetings at the State House, which was broadcasted live for the citizens to witness. You could see the excitement everywhere.

“As you can see, the World leaders are greeting our president, a sign of respect for what the nation has accomplished. The United Nations Secretary General is holding some documents, which he is now showing them to the President. They are now heading to a table just opposite them. Live pictures are showing that the papers are actually the acknowledgement that our country has officially been recognized as a first world country. The President is smiling as he signs the papers. Next to sign is the Deputy President. For sure this is indeed a glorious day….”

The Radio presenter continued his accurate descriptions of what was happening in the State House. The public train was full of murmuring and whispers as people were holding their own meetings and debates in the train. For the first time in ten years, public transport systems were allowed to use their speakers to broadcast the events of the day. Thirteen years ago, public transport system used to be a noisy and reckless means of transport in which traffic rules were technically nonexistent. My father used to narrate to me tales of how they used to move from one place to another through small rectangular vehicles, which were known as ‘matatus’. I recalled how I used to laugh at the phrase every time he mentioned it.

“ Mata.. Mata..tu? What kind of a name is that?” I remembered how I used to ask him. He showed me photos and I would laugh hysterically.

“This is what you used to travel with? Damn!”

“Yes, son, those were the good old days when we were still a third world country. The matatus were banned two years before you were born. A lot has changed for the last twenty years. Our discovery of oil has proven to be a blessing from below I guess.”

I recalled the conversations with my father as the train moved slowly through the city center. A snake in the concrete jungle. Electric train systems had been installed throughout the major cities of the country. Roads were often empty since people preferred them for their punctuality and efficiency. There were dozens of train stops in one part of the city alone and they has a reputation of always being on time. I was seated near the window, watching from afar people going about their daily lives. It was a Saturday so of course the streets were empty. The train stopped and two elderly men walked in. One sat through the door while the other slowly walked and sat behind me.

“They must be full of wisdom,” I thought as they looked across the train, observing people busy scrolling through their phones. I watched as one of them pulled out a phone. Not an ordinary phone. I t was a black phone which had a small screen. He keenly looked at it as he began scrolling.

Then I felt a light tap behind me.

“Young man, come sit right next to me.” I looked behind as the old man spoke to me with a wide smile.

“ Oh..ok.”

I rose from my seat and jumped behind.

“Wow, I remember during my days when I was that energetic. I used to participate in high jump races. Those were the good old days. Good heavens! I had forgotten. Please help me check my phone’s date and time. It seems it is incorrect.”

He handed the phone to me: an iPhone 30. The latest smartphone on the market which had been released on December 2037. It was among the transparent version of smartphones which were launched five years ago.

“My son just bought me that phone. I am used to the old ones which you could control with the screen. These transparent ones are quite complicated,” He spoke while laughing. I turned the phone backwards and next to the back camera, which were also transparent, was a round black spot. I pressed the spot and the controller popped out. The controller was a white circular object which looked like a ball bearing. I placed my thumb on to it and it stuck.

“This is the controller. You are supposed to stick it the back of your head, just at the beginning of the neck,” I showed the old man the tiny object on my thumb. He quickly wore his glasses and leaned closer to see it.

“Ooh wow, let me put it then.”

He took it and stuck it at the back of his head.

“It feels quite comfortable, but its electric impulses are annoying,” he said as the turned his neck from side to side.

“Now think of something, like opening the camera.”

“Okay, let me try.”

The phone’s camera opened in an instant.

“Well that’s how it works. You use your mind to control the phone. No need for touching it. Here you go.” I handed the phone to him.

“Thank you so much young man,” He said as I jumped back to my front seat.

The train went on and snaked through various streets. The emptiness of the streets was satisfying to watch. The huge screens on top of the skyscrapers kept repeating the same advertisement over and over: the one thing that got all of us addicted. It had over two million users countrywide and more were joining as its popularity spread across the nation. The internet was filed with thousands of articles about it and how it has corrupted the minds of the young population into participating in behavior and actions that had deadly consequences. Despite the various accusations, its popularity was rapidly growing. The train hooted several times and came to a gradual stop. The city screens continued repeating the same exact advert.  I looked out through the window and saw them. Five of them. My best friends.

My people. My squad.

The “savage seven” as we would call ourselves. I waved at them and they waved back. The train doors opened and people flowed out of the train then others started boarding.

“Oya buda niaje,” James, the loudest member of our group, shouted at the top of his voice as they came and sat next to me. We bumped fists as the train continued with its movement.

“How have you been man, long time no see.”

“I have been fine man, you know the usual stuff. School and such. How about you,” I answered.

“I’m doing fine bro. Just stressed, with Sandra you know.”

“Ooh yeah, I remember you telling us about it. Eti sasa utakua babake mtu. Congrats man,” I said hysterically.  He smiled as he answered.

“Yeah man. I talked to Sandra about it and instead of aborting; we will just have the child. And the funny thing is that none of our parents know. If they find out, I do not know what is going to happen. Or maybe I should tell them when the child is born…”

“Don’t worry man. All will be well. We will support you and Sandra and your son…or daughter?” I assured him.

“We are having a son,” James answered back.

The seven of us were the best of friends. Having grew up in the same neighborhood, went to the same primary school, and coincidentally attending the same high school made our bonds stronger and inseparable. We trusted each other ever since, and when they said they would support me, they meant it for sure. We talked and laughed as the train slithered from stop to stop. We were going the last stop which was at the edge of the city. The stop which had a very infamous reputation. We were going to see James’ younger brother who was admitted in a mental hospital for attempting to burn their house down. Before that, he has attempted suicide several times but was luckily saved by curious onlookers. They could not keep up with his behavior and they had no other option but to send him to the mental institution for further treatment.

“Hey guys!!! I have just remembered!” James shouted. Once again.

“Remembered what James,” I responded.

“Have you tried playing E.O.G?”

We all looked confused for a moment.

“Ati EOG? What on earth is that?” We asked James, who began laughing.

“Yani you don’t know EOG? All of you seem to be living under a tree or something. It’s the famous game, Edge of Glory.”

“Oooh, you could have said that earlier. No, I haven’t played it yet. Not even thought about  downloading it.”

“Well what are you all waiting for? The game is really fun. There are even real prizes to be won. And money as well. Pesa buda!”

I took out my phone and googled the game. I had seen its advertisements everywhere but I had never really has a keen interest about it. After all, I had little belief in these games that offered payments. They were all fake, I thought. My friends took out their phones and downloaded the game. I did as well. The game was huge in size. One whole Terabyte! I downloaded it knowing very well my phone would have to suffer the consequences. Within five minutes, I downloaded the game and it took another five minutes for it to install.

Finally, it opened. After another five minutes.

“Please select language..” A deep voice began talking. I chose English.

“Now listen to the instructions carefully,” James said as the rest of my friends’ games opened as well. I took my pair of earphones and fixed them into my ears. The deep voice continued talking.

“Welcome to Edge of Glory. Prepare to be amazed, frightened, entertained and experience all other thing that rush the adrenaline in you. But before we proceed you must allow us to access some of your phones tools as well as your private information…”

I read their terms. I was to allow the game to access all of my phone’s applications, social media profiles, files and all my personal information including my Mpesa and bank accounts.

“So I must allow them to access all of these things? Isn’t that illegal? What if they steal my money man?” I asked James.

“So many questions bro. Just tap allow. Trust me. I have done it too. Me and other several million people who have downloaded the game. So no pressure bro.”

I looked at the rest of my friends and we all agreed to tap the ‘allow’ icon.

After all, it was just a game.

We allowed the game to access all of these demands. Then our phones went dark all of a sudden. I pressed the power button severally but it didn’t switch back on.

“ What is this?”

We complained to James as he looked at us while smiling. “Keep calm, all of you. Do not panic. Give it some time it will switch itself on.”

Five minutes later, all of our phones vibrated and came back on simultaneously. “Welcome Westwood.” The words were shown on the screen, followed by a large smiley emoji. ‘Press here to continue.’ The deep voice spoke and I pressed the said button. They know probably everything about my

“Well you are now officially in the game my people. Now all you do is just follow the instructions and voila! You earn some money! Easy, right?” James said as we all waited for the instruction.

“Hey guys, an instruction just popped up in my screen,” Jack said as we all gathered around him, curious to know what the instructions were.

“Well, read them for us.”

“Ok, it says that I should do a back flip. Then I receive five thousand shillings. It sounds easy to me. Just a back flip.”

“If you can do it press ‘Accept’.”

There were three options. Accept, Deny or Refer a Friend. He quickly pressed accept and the phone’s back camera opened.

“Someone is supposed to record you doing the challenge for them to confirm if you’ve really done it,” James said as he took the camera and faced Jack. “Ok, now stand up and do the back flip.” James stood up and walked towards the space between the train’s seats. James stood in front of him while recording. He looked up and did the back flip, landing on his feet.

The phone beeped for some time and a smiley emoji popped up. ‘Congrats Jack’ the deep voice spoke from the phone.

We were all waiting for the money part of the challenge.

“MERT4356YU Confirmed. You have received 5000 from Edge of Glory…”

The message arrived. We were all left in shock and surprise.

“So it’s real huh. Alright.”

We were all believers after that. 5000 shillings for just performing a back flip.

Real believers.

We began waiting to see who was next. My phone was glued to my hand while staring at the screen, waiting impatiently for a pop up.

“Come on,” I whispered as I looked at my phone.

“Has anybody got a challenge yet?” Peter, one of our friends asked. The answer was of course no.

Then we heard a loud beep.

A huge pop up appeared on my phone.

It was a challenge.

“Hey people, I have a challenge!” I shouted in disbelief as my friends gathered around me.

“Well what does it say? Quick. look?”

I pulled the screen closer to my eyes and read. I read the challenge and looked at my friends in surprise. “What does it say Westwood? Show us?”

I was shocked. Shocked for real this time. Of all challenges I could have done, they chose to pick this one for me. Why me?

The challenge was that I stand at the edge of the T.M Towers for 20 seconds. With one leg up.

“Wow, that’s a tricky challenge man.”

“And what is the prize by the way?”

The prize for risking all this was astonishing. “The prize is twenty million shillings.”

My friends wowed in amazement.

“What! Twenty million! That’s a lot of cash man. Just accept the challenge. The next stop leads to the towers.

That’s a lot of money man. Just accept it yo!”

I began thinking about it. Twenty million shillings was a lot of money. That was nothing but the truth. I began consoling my inner mind and soul about it. And I has ten minutes to decide if I was going to accept, deny or refer to a friend.

“You have to choose. The stop to T.M Towers is just some few minutes away.”

My mind was in a dilemma. Deep down I knew I could not do it. I mean honestly, I stand on the edge of the tallest building in East Africa: staring directly towards death. Just because of a game! Bur here comes the other side of the story. The prize. The reason for doing all that risky activity. The chance to be a millionaire in less than a minute. Who wouldn’t want that right?

A golden opportunity. Sent from heaven by the Almighty Himself.

I came to a conclusion and made my choice.

The final choice. And that was it. No going back. Ever. I breathed in, breathed out and spoke to me friends.

“You know what guys, I have made my choice. Whatever happens just know you are the best of friends I have ever met in my entire life.”

“Oh God, you are going to do it, aren’t you?” Peter spoke as I saw excitement beaming from his face.

“You are the man Westwood!”

I smiled and then spoke.

“Actually what I’m going to do is not what you are thinking. I am not going to deny it, but I will instead refer it to a friend. That is my choice.”

My friends’ excitement faded away. They looked at me, and then looked at each other then to me again.

“What! Who are you going to refer to and why? You are letting twenty mil slip away like that.”

“I am referring the challenge to you James. I thought since you are expecting a child, the money might be of greater help to you. And it will also help pay for your brother’s treatment in the hospital.”

I pressed the refer option before James could speak a word. My phone beeped I entered James’ details on the space provided. Immediately, his phone beeped and a smiley emoji popped up followed by the deep voice.

“Hello James, challenge 563 has been referred to you by Westwood. Please select your choice.”

“The choice is yours man. Accept or deny.” I told him.

He looked at his phone and murmured for a while.

“Ok. Screw it, I’ll do it. Happy now.”

A few minutes later, the train came to a slow stop. We had no option but to postpone seeing James’ brother. The seven of us alighted from the train and began walking towards the T.M. Towers.

“You know what, I think you are right. Let me do it for them. But of course well share it amongst ourselves if I win right. How can I forget you six idiots,” James said jokingly as the approached the building. “And by the way, I was told the game was developed by an engineering student in the University of Nairobi. Rumor has it that he had remained anonymous since the game gained popularity. The authorities have been looking and tracing him but they have never caught him. And another rumor is that it is being operated by an artificial intelligence software hidden in a house somewhere in the city.  Who knows?”

We reached the entrance of the building and I looked up. It was so high that the end was covered in the clouds. We walked in the building and a young female sat at the reception office.

“Hello, welcome to T.M Towers, how may I help you?”

“We are here because of this…” James said as he showed the receptionist his phone.”

She looked at us in a frightened look.

“Oh… oh… okay go right ahead. The elevator is on your left,” She stammered as she pointed at the elevator. We headed towards the escalator as I contemplated about her reaction. I looked back at her and saw her phone on her hands pointing it at our direction.

We entered the elevator and pressed the top most floor.

It was floor number 200.

“I hope it works guys. Pray for me,” James said while laughing hysterically. Then he kept quiet. I am sure all of us have that habit of calculating how you would spend money which is not in your pocket or account. We have all done it. At one time in this life, when you are a few hours or days away from gaining a lump-sum of money, you suddenly become an accountant and plan your expenditure to the very last penny.

James was no exception.

Two minutes later, the elevator opened and we were at the top of the building. The wind was strong and cold as it blew across us, drifting my cap into the air. I watched it as it swirled round and went overboard. Dark clouds had formed, and it was uncertain whether it would rain or not.

“This place is really high man.”

We walked towards the end of the building and looked down. It was a long way down. The clouds covered most parts of the building, making it impossible to see the roads and trains beneath us.

“Now which edge is the right edge?” James asked as we looked around the building.

His phone suddenly beeped. He looked at it then the deep voice spoke.

“The edge is on your far right. Get there and perform the challenge.”

We looked to the right and went to where the voice said.

“Are we being watched or something?” I said as looked up and round us to see if there were any drones following us.  We reached there and it was indeed the edge of the building. Except one thing.  The protective barrier was not there. Instead, a long horizontal structure protruded from the edge, like an antennae of some sort, except it was metallic and relatively narrow.

His phone beeped again. The camera opened and it was time.

“Give me the phone, I will record,” I said.

“Okay guys, wish me luck. Its only twenty seconds and we are stinking money!” He shouted as we walked towards the edge. I closely followed him and I stopped as the horizontal structure began getting thinner.

“Na uchunge buda,” I said as he tiptoed towards the edge of the structure. I looked down and the height made my eyesight blurred, as though I had been under the influence. I heavily blinked as I focused on recording him.

Then his phone vibrated. It quickly switched from the camera to the timer.

“It has switched to the timer. Are you ready?” I shouted since he was now far from where I was standing. Slowly, he began lifting his left leg up.

The countdown immediately began.  From twenty seconds downwards.

19….18…17….16…15…

I looked at the phone as the countdown neared fifteen seconds. I looked at James as he maintained balance at the edge of the metallic structure. We cheered him on as I zoomed the camera to let the game see that he was going to make it, if they had any doubts about it.

10…9…8…

The countdown was clocking into the last five seconds.

He was really going to make it. Unbelievable. Twenty million, just like that?

..5…4…3…

I looked at the phone in excitement as the countdown was almost over.  My eyes were wide open in amazement as we cheered him on. James looked at us and burst out into laughter. His unique laughter.

..2…1…0

The countdown was over. He won the challenge.

He won.

The phone vibrated and then a pop up emerged from his screen. “Challenge Won!” It wrote.

“Ha ha ha!! You see guys. It was not that hard. You could have done it Westwood.” He said while laughing.

“If only you weren’t such a co….”

A bright flash of light suddenly appeared out of nowhere. The light blinded my eyes and I heavily blinked. The light was followed by a loud rumbling.

I opened my eyes slowly and looked at James. He was standing still, with his eyes wide open.

“What was that?” Peter asked.

“Lightning bro,” He was answered.

“Is everyone okay?” Jack asked.

I looked at James and he seemed ok. I looked behind me and my friends were all laughing after what happened.

“Hey James, the challenge is over. You can put your leg down now bro!” I said.

He stood still. With eyes wide open looking at me.  He was still.

“Hey something is wrong with James,” I told my friends who came towards me. “Oya James acha ufala,” Jack said as he waved a middle finger towards him. He did not respond and continued staring at us.

A strong wind blew towards us.

We stood there in shock as James slowly began swaying towards one side. My mouth opened wide as he fell off the edge like a cut tree. We watched as he went down towards the ground. The clouds swallowed him and he was no longer visible. We looked down, but the clouds surrounding the building prevented us from seeing the ground. I turned back at my friends, my eyes and mouth wide open, not believing what I had just witnessed. We gazed at each other in shock and confusion, trying to comprehend what had just happened.

His phone beeped. I looked at it and a smiley emoji appeared on the screen. And then it vibrated.

“MWTRO85YT Confirmed. You have received two million from Edge of Glory…” The message was followed by another one of the same exact amount. And another one. And another one. Ten messages came to the phone, each with two million shillings. The total balance was twenty million shillings. We looked at each other, as we saw the balance right before us.  I looked over the edge and James was gone. In his phone there was twenty million shillings.

We knew exactly what to do.

Meanwhile, the lightning flashed once again, followed by the loud rumbling of thunder. This time it struck the lightning arrestor of the next building which was a few meters away.

…….