FORGIVE ME PAST: The News

Even Rachael was there at the front, doing absolutely nothing to save me. Only a sad look was drawn on her face, and her hands, tied with chains. The funny thing is that I couldn’t even remember what I had done to deserve such a kind of punishment, but a feeling of innocence was heavy in my grieving heart.

Most dreams indeed make no sense at all. Why would it be Ronnie, of all people, to play ‘God’ in my nemesis? His fierce eyes were deeper than usual, and I think the dream exagerated his looks—he looked somewhat like a tiger. He was dumb, like he always is in real life, but a sinister smile made his face even more darker. I think it should’ve been him of all people because his well-built gigantic stature gave life to the character he was playing. He bit his lips until blood gushed out as he hailed the machete in mid air.

I couldn’t stand such a diabolic experience. I didn’t even want to give sleep a second chance of taking me back into such dire straits, so I forced myself up despite the intense headache I was feeling. The headache wasn’t something to worry about—it was my daily potion of suffering. I think it had become chronic because it never missed a day ever since I started using concentrated marijuana. Indeed the worst things in life come free to us.

Before I even cracked my eyelids open, I stretched and yawned out all the sleep hidden in my morning person. The beginning of the day was in every way normal: every part of my body was doing it’s morning chore, the sun was still sleepy and I was the first awake being in our *mansion*. The other kings and queen were still silent and Stone, snoring. My first sight for the day fell on him.

He seemed to have froze from the wet clothes he had spent the night in, in addition to the fact that he hadn’t covered himself with anything. His feet and cheeks had swollen overnight, and his skin had grown pale. One would think he had passed out for the lightness of his skin had reacted with the coldness into a ghostly appearance. He’d folded his slim body into his stick-like arms. I spread my blanket allover his cold body as he unconsciously welcomed it with a firm grip.

A rooster crowed from above—I could here it stamping on our dilapidated roof. I immediately dismissed the thought of hitting the roof to scare it away. Such stupidity, one morning, almost made these sleepy heads to kill me, so there was way I could repeat such a mistake. The crowing awoke Gerald.

As I reached for my clothes hanging on the wall, I could hear him whisper to his night angel in an attempt to awake her. The latter replied with inaudible phrases that clearly indicated she was in deep sleep, inhospitable to any disturbances. A number of attempts later, the resistance stopped, and funny sounds followed.

I sat on my mattress and gifted them with my silence too. I only listened. Good enough Stone’s snoring had ceased after I covered him, so this made each and every sound clear to my ears. The rooster too must have fled to another roof. I sat there in silence for about ten minutes until the *Walumbe Zaaya* song cut through the morning from Radio Bwaise.

Radio Bwaise was our local radio, mainly for local announcements. It would always be active on mornings, late evenings, and any other hours of the day in case of emergencies. I paid attention to it because of the opening song—such a song only played when death had visited one of the homes in the region. The daily croaky feminine voice replaced the fading song with greetings.

“Good morning our beloved listeners of Bwaise Radio,” the lady began. “It’s a very sad morning today for all of us. Mama Peter lost her two-year-old son, Peter, last night. She is a resident of this community, a very hardworking widow who has been earning a living from roasting maize and plantain at Bwaise stage. Amid tears, she reported that three thieves attacked her at the blink of the downpour last night, stole all her money, suffocated her child, and one remained behind and raped her. We are in deep sorrow with her. If there’s anyone with any word of encouragement or condolences, reach out to her at the chairman’s home, or through these numbers…”

As the woman read out the phone numbers, I was already drunk of her words and could listen to them no more. Intense sorrow and anger gripped my heart.

“The local police is trying its best to trace these evil men, and we believe they will be found and brought to justice. May the boy’s soul rest in peace.” she concluded. I closed my eyes and grieved with the woman we’d caused such great misery. We really needed the money but rape and death weren’t in our plans.

“Sam, where is the money?” Gerald awoke me from the moment of silence. The oxbow lake in my eyes blurred his and the girl’s image. I reached for the trouser I was in the previous night, checked it, and pulled out all the money and handed it to him. He removed two notes, gave them to the girl and she marched out without saying a word. I didn’t get the chance to visualise how she really looked like because the previous night was a bit dark, and this morning, I couldn’t lift up my head. I believe she was one of the prostitutes that had made Bwaise famous for that matter.

I searched for my phone in one of my courts by the wall and turned it on. It was just 7:38. Gerald handed me my portion of the amount. It was only 15,000shs. One of us raped a widow and another killed her son just because of such little money. Tears had now formed distributaries down my face. Gerald kicked the sofa to awake Stone as he called Ronnie too to wake up.

Stone sat with the blanket allover his body like a primary kid who’d been woken up at 5am for school. Within a minute or so, Ronnie had joined us on our side. Before saying anything, Gerald first handed them their share as well.

“We are thieves, not rapists and murderers, you know,” Gerald started off with a statement that would have come in the middle of the conversation.

We remained silent. What could we say anyway? Stone was still entertaining the sleep in his eyes, Ronnie looked to be absentminded, and I, just wiping my eyes. every after a second. “Why can’t you confine your cock in your trousers just for once?” Gerald questioned Ronnie, piercing him with a sharp stare. Ronnie never said a word. “And you even go on to kill a baby?” Gerald continued nevertheless.

“I didn’t do that,” Ronnie spat in self-defense.

“But you went ahead to rape someone after the daily songs we’ve been singing to you that you should stop that beastly act!”

“What is your problem?” Ronnie barked back. “What did she lose?” Gerald went dumb for a minute, clearly defeated at this. There was no way he could remain arguing with the imbecile. Ronnie went back to his bed after a few minutes of silence in the room.

“Who killed the child?” Gerald addressed the question to Stone and I. Stone’s heart must have skipped a beat at that. We remained silent.

“I.. I was only trying…to keep the boy silent,” Stone stammered. I believed him. He didn’t have such an evil heart of intentionally killing a baby. Silence followed. “I pinned his face onto the bed but I didn’t intend to suffocate him,” he continued to confess.

Gerald punched the wall in intense anger. “Why do we always have to create curses for ourselves? Are these worthless notes worth an innocent soul?” he argued, throwing the remaining amount in his hands—his share—in mid air. The notes flew calmly and down they went. Silence. “Ronnie, you have to think with your brain, and not with your penis,” He sent a final bullet to Ronnie on the other side. Silence.

Gerald took a deep breath, burying his eyes behind his right hand he’d placed in his face as thought thinking. He cleared his throat and said in a lower tone, “We are not doing any robbery for the next number of weeks. I believe the police is going to be on a rant for sometime.” That was final. He didn’t wait for any suggestion or anyother form of reply—he made his way out and all sounds followed him.

Stone rested his head at the left arm of the sofa, gazing at me. I think he’d seen so much that just that, and was amazed by my strong emotion towards the news. Nevertheless, he did not say a word.

“This is no place for ladies,” Ronnie spat, clearly referring to me. “Such and even worse outcomes are expected in this kind of field. You should try modelling I think,” he continued. He was getting on my nerves.

I didn’t wait for his next statement after a sarcastic laughter—I grew thorns and jumped to his side in great furry. All I can say about the fight is that he disciplined me—thanks to Stone who came to my rescue—but I also made a point.