Making sense of Vongi

September 24, 2008 by Emmanuel Sigauke ·
Filed under: Books & literature, Short Stories

She arrived on a Sunday, dressed up for church but not intending to go to any church. She just wanted to see her aunt, to show her that she was grown up, able to penetrate Harare on her own.

“But tell me, how did you make it? The last time I talked to brother he said no one knew where you were. Everyone kept their ears open for the day someone would announce the marriage ceremony, or to hear the worst of news,” Maiguru said.

“I was out and about, doing this and that,” she said.

I leaned closer to hear this.

“I knew, secretly, that you were up to some mischief. Now look who shows up at my door, in Harare, hundreds of kilometers away from Mazvihwa! How did you do this?”

Vongi laughed briefly, then she let her lip dangle to let a smile linger a little longer.

“Tete, things have not been easy, but, you know, we try.”

“Tell us something with substance now.”

“You want to hear the whole truth?”

“Would you dare lie to me? Then you know I would sure give my brother the go-ahead to kill you!”

Vongi cleared her throat and began. The whole time everyone back in Mazvihwa was wondering what had happened to her, with some filing their teeth for the meat that would be eaten at her wedding and others enjoying the itch of their hands in anticipation of bride price money, she had been in Kariba.

“That’s too far from home. How did you end up there?” Maiguru asked.

“A man was going to marry me.”

“Then?”

“I woke up one day and took off! I had resold some fish I bought from a white man at the lake. I made enough money for transport, and said, ‘Where is my auntie again?’ My heart told me, ‘She is in Harare. Go to Harare.’ So, here I am.”

“But you know I have no room for you. Why didn’t you write in advance, to warn us at least?”

I laughed at how she said that. Talking about a warning like Vongi was the plague or a tornado. For a moment she said nothing, but her face was still an oasis of smiles. Then she shifted and said, “I didn’t write because the plans got better on the bus!”

“What happened on the bus? You met another man?”

“No-o, Tete. I met a family that was returning from a weekend trip. We started talking and one topic led to another and they decided to employ me as a maid.”

I said, “Ah!” but no one paid attention to me.

“They promised good money, so I took the offer and told myself, ‘Now I don’t have to burden my aunt, but I can visit her often. So, yes, here I am.”

Indeed, here she was, her whole sixteen-year-old self, glowing.

“What a story. So where does this family of yours live?”

“Oh, we live in High Field. Nice woman. She has two children who attend school. The husband lives alone somewhere in the city but sometimes comes to visit for a night or two.”

“Some messed up family,” I said.

“They are not a family any more.”

“You are not making sense,” Maiguru said.

“The man is not her husband, but again they are not divorced. It’s weird how she explained it, but all I care about is my job. She pays me well.”

“Just make sure that man does not touch you,” Maiguru said.

“He would not even dare, would he?”

“You tell me!”

I roared with laughter and for the first time Vongi looked at me directly, pursed her lips, and said, “So Babamunini, how you been?”

“You know, just trying my best to contribute to life.”

“You still write things?”

“Things? You must mean novels.”

“Whatever!”

“Don’t be rude to this man now. He is as good as your husband! Have manners, Vongi!”

“Fine,” she said, sticking out the tip of her tongue towards me and rolling eyes. “So do you still do that church thing?”

I hesitated for a while, but yes, I was proud of the Word.

“I happen to attend the High Field service,” I said.

“Inga! We shall join that church too then,” she said, then refocused her attention on Maiguru. “You know with time, being that I’m making that much money, auntie, I can finish school.”

“That would be a good thing to do. You know Babamunini here is in Form 5?”

“He is….” Not a question, not an expression of surprise. “Be careful now, Babamunini, don’t get too educated for me!” she said.

I did not get a chance to respond because at that time Mukoma, my big brother, entered the room. He had been out fixing someone’s stove in the neighborhood. At first he seemed exhausted but when he saw Vongi, his eyes lit and he said, “Look who’s here now!” He reached over and hugged Vongi, who proudly rested in his arms. “Look at you, all grown and ripe!”

She chuckled. Maiguru rolled her eyes, and moved to open room for Mukoma to sit. But he and Vongi kept their embrace for a while. I mean, there could never be anything wrong, looking at it from a cultural point of view, in a man leaning on the ripeness of his wife’s nieces. He was as good as her husband, was more entitled to this cultural benefit than I was. Come on, the man had paid bride price for the girl’s aunt.

“You two, stop it now so we can find where to look,” said Maiguru, with a voice more playful than it was annoyed. Mukoma disengaged and continued to acknowledge the presence of everyone else in the room. Vongi sat down like a good young woman and the rest of the day ended with us talking about general issues, eating a late lunch and I escorting Vongi to the taxis.

On the way, I took the opportunity to follow up on the church issue.

“So were you serious about coming with me to the church?”

“Of course! I don’t want to be bored alone. You know I don’t work on Sundays since the family visits some relatives in Glen Norah. I’ve the house to myself and I’m bored to death.”

“Well then, I’ll make sure I come by so we can go together. You’ll like it; they dance better than the one back home.”

“I like the sound of that, Babamunini.”

After she gave me her address, I realized that the house was in a walking distance to the High Field church. So that meant I would get in an emergency taxi to High Field and get down at a stop near the house. We would walk to church together for five to ten minutes. I looked forward to bringing a new member to the church; they would appreciate that very much.

Back home I found Mukoma waiting outside.

“How was it? She is fun, isn’t she?”

I had to be careful the way I answered. “Just so-so. She wants to come with me to the church.”

“Be careful. I didn’t like the way her heart fluttered. She comes off as someone you cannot trust, and remember you can’t mess up your education.”

“No, I wouldn’t do anything with her. She’s just a baby,” I said, hoping he wanted to hear this. You know, Mukoma was just like a father to me, and I was not free to discuss these matters with him.

“There’s nothing called a baby once a woman reaches that age. Remember, your Maiguru was only fifteen when we got married. Even then, she was mature enough to know what she was doing.”

I remembered. The way she would walk into our compound, acting like she owned the whole world. Mukoma had just returned from South Africa and he had nothing else to do but to show off and spoil his girlfriend of two weeks. They were married in the third week, after they had been caught together in Runde River by her big brother. He had just looked at Mukoma and said, “Man, you know how to be a man, so be a man all the way.” Ah, within a week she had joined our family. She had been only fifteen. I saw his point.

“I’m not saying don’t take her to church, just don’t get crazy ideas in your head. You are a book man and she, she is just a….you know!”

I laughed to show that I knew.

“If you mess this one up, I won’t hesitate to take care of you myself,” he said, and I knew exactly what he was talking about. There was no need to go through months and months of repeated beatings. That’s right: beatings, even though I was an eighteen-year-old man. When it came down to the issue of discipline, the fact that I was in A-Level, and that I was eighteen did not matter.

“I can’t just watch as you do anything stupid,” he said, concluding our chat.

[To be continued….]

Tell the world: