Writings / Fiction

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“God help us. You have killed a murungu!”
“It was not intentional.”
“All the same. Killing a white man. Au”
“I would suggest you run away”
“Where to?”
“Anywhere. Nyasaland, Northern Rhodesia…”
“No.”
“No What?”
“I have surrendered myself to fate.”
“Are you mad?”
“Even if I run. They will find me.”
“So you want to hand over yourself like a sheep before slaughter?”

Shingi was silent. His wife started crying.

“Oh who will look after my child if his father is hanged? Oh the world has no mercy.”

Despite his pain, her cries acted like some cruel lullaby sending him to sleep. She silently joined him in bed.

They were woken by a loud knock early in the morning. Already there was a sizable crowd outside. A Black Maria always attracted a crowd. Sergeant Dermott who was well known in the location was flanked by two black policemen. They wore khaki shorts and jumpers, brown boots and wrapped some putty around their legs. They wore funny looking small helmets on their heads. They usually rode bicycles to do their rounds in townships but today they were on special duty.

Africans sometimes vented their anger on black policemen, whom they regarded as sell outs who had sold themselves to settlers for a paltry salary. Shingi came out of the house expressionless. His wife followed him rubbing her eyes with her right forefinger.

Sergeant Dermott faced Shingi looking him in his eyes. He did not look hard like the rest of white policemen Shingi knew, though he had heard that Dermott had arrested more black people than other white officers. He looked at the crowd, and saw the same fear he had seen in the eyes of sheep when a dog was unleashed on them back home.

“Are you Shingi Chirenje, house boy for Mrs Johnson of Crested Crane farm?”
“Yes.”
“Are you aware that you have killed a white man, Phil Haddock?”
“I am aware.”
“Come with us to the charge office.”

Shingi’s face still registered no feeling as he was taken away with his hands held behind his back by two black policemen. His wife clung to him but the taller black police officer pushed her away. “Don’t take him away. It was all the white man’s fault.” The car drove off raising dust. The crowd dispersed and went back their business.

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    Art Quote

    “Painting is easy for those that do not know how, but very difficult for those that do!”
    - Edgar Degas

    Art

    Zane Turner

    Eauhh Yellow Pain- Zane Turner

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    Dedication

    To the memory of Stephen Potts