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 THE HOUSE OF BROKEN HEARTS

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PostSubject: THE HOUSE OF BROKEN HEARTS   Wed Jun 27, 2018 4:09 pm

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PROLOGUE
 
He was in his mid nineties, wizened and shaken. A man of his words, the last of his kind, well known for his distinguished career, an expert in the art of mind reading and astronautics, famous for his cherish and love for young children; during his energetic adolescence, he made a successful space tour, for his father was a distinguished astronaut of his time; they travelled great deal merely to discover and explore, and we are told that him and his distant cousin’s friend Philip Jedidiah; a scientist and a traditional herbalist, together they co-invented the first manmade timeship which they used to travel back and forward in time, attending the sick both in the past and in the future. Their prime concern was to ship people back in time as a delaying technique to escape the judgment day. The game of lunatics!
          They played God once, but at the end of the day they crashed and froze along the grand time-stream and perished in the deeps of history. Prior to their ascension on the edge of extinction, they travelled back in time to Scythia, an ancient country north of the Black Sea. While there, Jedidiah suffered from psychasthenia, a severe functional mental disorder, characterized by fixed ideas, ruminative states, and hypochondriacal conditions; and he joined the unknown ancestors eight weeks later. An old chap took his corpse and left Scythia for a 1350’s Smoke City to honor his friend with the best burial. They buried Jedidiah near Aleko village, a very remote human habitat hundred miles south of Nopinian archipelago. Jedidiah’s funeral was one day prior to his birth. At the time when an old man arrived from Scythia, Selina, Jedidiah’s mother was pregnant. She saw the corpse of her unborn baby, the beauty of time travelling. After the birth, an old man took Selina to a 1990’s South Africa, and handled the family to a wealthy Dutch businessman somewhere in Gauteng.
          Following the inauguration of Nelson Mandela in 1994, Selina and her little Jedidiah fled the country for the Dutchman had realized their contradicting identity. An old man found them in Dar es Salaam, a port city on the eastern shores of Africa. All aboard City of Smokes Timeship, they left Africa on December 25, 1995; a Christmas day in some people’s calendar. They left for the Blue Olympus Cape and landed there on the thirtieth day of October, the year two thousands and forty five and they lived there for a couple of decades in the outskirts of Taugamma, an industrial province south of Pink Shadow mostly mushroomed with shanty maisonnettes and other low life shacks.
          The year 2070 witnessed a massive residential rehabilitation program as the world leaders met in Port Anipi and declared poverty a crime and good life a human right. They introduced a single world worship day, job application day, employment day and retirement day. An old man’s house was also rehabilitated and turned into a high standard upper residential apartment. Jedidiah was still young looking but as old as his father, an old man. Confusion!
          Now that we are confused; here again comes another major confusion. Rumors had it that an old man was immortal and omnipresent. Selina once whispered that her husband enjoyed much sharing his vast experience of the past and the future with the youngest generation, and this did not amuse his age mates, especially King Rhombus, and he (the king) always wanted to hear stories about heavens, stars and planets in the outer space. King Rhombus was a good reader of the Bible; he could read from the book of Genesis to Revelation over night, only to wake up airheaded and dizzy the next day. He summoned all the witches and wizards of the land to tell him about the outer space, and none of them satisfied his majesty. Who could tell what happened to the magicians? Negative!
At the time when everything was running smoothly; the time when Olympus government was providing everything for the citizens and the citizens were providing everything for the government, a one world mutual responsibility school of thought was born. The government established a State University of Talents and Paranormal Studies (SUTPAS) and an old man served there as the Dean Faculty of Time Travel and Anachronism. A man from another time teaching students in another time; how paranormal?
          One day when he was on a holiday, his students paid him a visit. They found him getting ready for his luncheon, and they ate together, the National Diet. In the evening he escorted them down the road and Taugamma Express picked them up. On his way back he felt strangely as if an alien monster had possessed him, he rushed quickly into the house while thwarting and quibbling from one matter to another. Seeing so, Selina who was just arriving from Thule, an island six days north of Orkney discovered by Pytheas (4th Cent. BC.) She jumped out of her whole glass time casket and grabbed an old man’s hand. “Bring me a cinchona bark.” An old man whispered. Selina rushed to the first floor and crawled on all fours like a giant arid scorpion searching for her Quechuan purse. She scattered everything on the floor and there it was, a cinchona bark.
          As he was chewing it, he pleaded with his wife never to time travel again, especially by leaving him alone in the house without even a mouse to give him company. Selina gave him a barbaric gaze, as if she wanted to swallow him. “Since I taught you how to ride that machine, you have become now a veteran time traveler huh?” an old man retorted. “Just last week you visited an ancient Roman Empire and met Julius Caesar there, you even shook hand with Queen Elizabeth I of England just yesterday, and here again arriving from Thule. I can read your mind, right now you are planning to attend the Independence Day of Tanganyika only to meet Julius Nyerere. When are you going to spend even a day with me? Or even cook for me? I am a university professor you know?” Selina remained speechless, just as silent as a Hebrew consonant. She then went to the kitchen to prepare her husband a typical Aleko cuisine. Sweet potatoes and condensed milk, an old man’s favorite.
          When dinner was served, an old man sat and summoned his great-great grandchildren; Selina brought him a family photo, the one that was hanging like the gardens of Babylon in the parlor. When he got hold of the frames, he chanted some incantations and the children on the photo came to life. They were about twelve, just like sons of Israel or disciples of Jesus. The youngest of all was about four hundred years old and the eldest was as old as the universe. Forever grandchildren!
          He wanted to tell them a story about the land of the Nullifidians, the legend of the house of broken hearts, a mythical book city. His Highness King Rhombus swallowed his pride and paid a visit, he also wanted to hear the thrilling story, but he met a frozen welcoming from an old man. He didn’t show up physically, it was a mental visit, the beauty of immortality. So, he left the compounds and forced his way to a neighboring mansion. He sat there, all alone in the pavilion, a king of his own kingdom, a kingdom of one man. He really wanted to hear the story, so he sat there in isolation, he didn’t mind the decemberish weather and the giant mosquitoes. He just wanted to hear…
          Children kept calm and listened, the old man yawned; he yawned again, this time with dry tears pouring out, moisturizing the contours on his dimpled cheeks. Before him was a tray of boiled sweet potatoes and a jug of condensed milk waiting for his Orangutan’s belly, the old man could not stop the inevitable, he was salivating, a sweeter bite to start the meal. Selina and Jedidiah left for an ancient India and landed there in the 2nd millennium BC, but they found out that the Aryans were invading the land, and so it was not safe to stay, they then time travelled to Aruba, an island in the Netherlands Antilles, in the West Indies, off the NW coast of Venezuela. An old man could see and even control every move of the casket using his magic wristwatch.
          A 2015 Aruba was just nice for a family vacation, considering its high living standard, nice hotels, beaches and other honeypots. Seeing that they were enjoying the beauty of Oranjestad, Palm Beach and other places, spending florins like regular tourists, an old man smiled and scattered his bulky body all over the armchair and faced the children. His skug sheltered almost everybody, and then he asked… “Are you ready?” and his grandchildren gave him a yes nod. And so, an old man narrated!
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PostSubject: Re: THE HOUSE OF BROKEN HEARTS   Wed Jun 27, 2018 4:22 pm

CHAPTER 5
 
Let me tell you one thing my grand children, everyone in this world is a thief, even you, and you, and you, and you. Tell me something if I may ask, is there anybody who came from the womb with something at hand? Apart from the cries for milk and when you want to poop or wee; with the exception of inherent abilities and divine aptitude granted by the gods themselves, is there anyone, son or daughter of either a woman or some sort of laboratory experiments, who can claim the ownership of anything under the sun? Whether you keep quiet or no, the answer is NO ONE.
          We are all thieves; even the government itself is also doing the same business, stealing, either from the nature, or from the citizens. It’s just a matter of names, this one a tax, and this one a bride price; that one a tithe and the other one a bill, so many names but the same thing; this one a tax collector, that one a preacher, this one an in-law, the other one Mr. Blaa Blaa. If you’re not a thief, then you’re in the wrong venue, a loser!
 
*****
Many days passed as those horrible memories perished, to find Anita was the only mission in my head; so one morning I woke up from that lonely house, the house that chased away my guests; I was alone and the only friend of mine was a man on the radio.
          That early morning I woke up from my rags and my intuition told me to go to a witch doctor to find Anita. I knew the ways of the witch doctor and how they do their things; I brushed my forty teeth and took shower, then I prepared my breakfast. On the table there was a plate full of Mesopotamian worms, a bowl of Nubian cockroaches and a glass of Hippo’s milk from Hiddekel. That was my favorite dish, so I really enjoyed; it was yummy. When I finished, I closed the windows and shut the door; as I was leaving the house, reaching outside the gate, I saw someone with a very unusual stature; a man with a round face like an ancient Ethiopian Chapatti, a very big nose like an old pumpkin from the Great Zimbabwe, big jaws like those of King Kong, very old like the ruins of Mohenjo-Daro, an irregular head like sweet potatoes from Deutsch-Ostafrika, but short like the Mbuti of Zaire. I asked for his identity; hey tall boy, what are you? Lost Tourist? What is your name? “Atido”, my name is Atido Tungi, the younger brother of Sophia Herman Tungi. What? What have you just said? Don’t tell me that you’re my in-law, are you? “Yes, I am” the tall boy replied. Oh! If you may excuse me, I was just on my way to the shrine, I hope you won’t mind if you join me; he agreed and we left the civilization.
          On our way the tall boy asked me so many questions, every three paces, he stopped and asked a question till we were about to reach the shrine. When we reached there, the tall boy was nowhere to be seen, he disappeared. I was very shocked, I almost fainted; I decided to return home, I just forgot about seeing the witch doctor and told myself to find a very powerful Pastor to come and anoint my house and cast out all the magic spells and demons. On Thursday morning of February 14, 2002; a man of God visited my house, this one was Pastor Richard Ganji of Devotion Ministries International, and he came with his wife Mrs. Maria Latina. The couple prayed for about half an hour and the house disappeared. They told me that it was never there; they said that when they reached there, what they saw was the belly of the beast. So this time that my house is gone, where am I going to live? I asked them; my son, don’t you worry, Jesus is your new home, and you’re welcome.
          They left me there with a very welcoming note, “if you’re done with the goodbyes, come to the church, your Valentine awaits”.  It took me hours to try forgetting the names of my history makers, names like Sophia and Anita. I even blamed myself for inviting that Pastor and his wife; maybe they envied my house and so they tricked me with their magic and stole my house. I decided to look for another powerful man of God; so I wondered the whole Romata. I even went back to the brothel and coincidentally I met Anita there. She was very sick, I took her to the nearby dispensary and she died there from Falciparum Malaria. For sure life in Romata was very tough at the time; many citizens emigrated from that armpit of the Planet to the Republic of Nopinia where life was very expensive but at least affordable especially in some places like Winners Island and Senoburg. To live in the capital Port Anipi was almost impossible to the lower class. Many went to Yellow Dove Island, I decided to go to Port Anipi because my friend Professor Nguru was also living there, somebody told me to go to Yellow Dove but I really wanted to enjoy the beauty of Nopinia; the beaches, women, night clubs and national parks all in the capital.
          My boyhood friend President David Coin was in power, so Nopinia was a perfect place for me. Life in Romata remained a history; such a wicked nation was only suitable for corrupt politicians like Kassorobo and men of God like Sango and Ganji. I left the country for good that summer, it was much better because everything turned to be a thorn in the flesh. Living in such a house of broken hearts was not good for me. As I was leaving, my long time friend Nzaly Kasisi telephoned me, he was also moving to Nopinia, he came with his Hammer, so we travelled together.
          The shades of darkness were getting closer, and birds of prey were coming out from their nests; the ugly face of an Eagle Owl scared other birds, the sky turned red as the Sun was hurrying to hide, another phase of the day was spreading its tentacles as the darkness was knocking at the western gates of the heaven. We were running out of gas and there was no any fuelling station in the vicinity. We were in the middle of the jungle; we packed the car amid the road in order to lesser the danger of getting bitten by the mythical winged snakes.
          My Grandma told me that once upon a time there was a tribe, they lived in the jungle, they worshiped winged snakes and they sacrificed virgin girls, twins and Albinos for the reptiles in order to please them. The rituals went hand in hand with the ‘Gadubadu’, this was the initiation ceremony where a barren woman was brought to a village square and then raped to death by all uncircumcised men who were then getting circumcised during the funeral of the barren woman. In order to become a full member of the tribe, men were required to steal from the nearby villages, kidnap fifty children each week, rape ten women each day and kill a hundred lions each month for good two years. The tribe came to be known as “the tribe of the thieves” due to their routine robbery and accumulation of wealth, the tradition that was passed from one generation to the next through deoxyribonucleic acid.
          During the colonial invasion of Rolmaghata, the native name for the modern Romata, the colonial Police force killed the Chief of the tribe after his refusal to surrender the village to the colonialists. His private soldiers were said to invade the city during the night and kidnapped the Governor; in the morning all the police were naked and tied at the town square, all women and children were forced to flog them to death and their corpses were thrown into a lion’s den.
          Back then Romata was not a place to colonize; the Suligy Militia was very active and strong, they used threats and coercion when peace talks failed and sometimes they used magic when democracy failed and they were ready to die for their country rather than surrendering to an invading army. They maintained their strength for centuries until they were ruined from within by the puppets. Many were captured and hanged to death during the second colonial invasion of Rolmaghata. Some were roasted and served as lunch to Missionaries while others were taken as slaves to work in the plantations and mines in Ghost Island.
          Few of them escaped and turned back to the jungle, some into the caves and others disappeared to nowhere. The colonial government changed the country from Rolmaghata (the Land of Winged Snakes) to Romata (Rule of Masters and the Abactors), the colonial motto which meant Slavery and Theft. The Governor was lost forever, his body was never found; some said that the Militia used his head to please the reptiles, his hind and fore limbs for firewood and the rest for the god of vengeance (Tamaroo) to avenge the death of their Chief. Grandma also told me that during the Gadubadu virgin girls prepared to be sacrificed were forced to sing the goodbye song which left the audience in tears. Before they were into the bellies of the Mega Snakes, the girls sang this song of great sadness...
 
Will you be pleased, if you swallow me?
Are you not so big to feed on me?
I’m just a little, take a look at me
O mighty winged; have mercy on me
 
If no other choice, so take me now
Come and rejoice, my humble vow
Don’t dry my voice, so let me bow
O mighty winged; have mercy on me
 
After the song, the winged snakes appeared and swallowed them all, and then they disappeared and waited till the next year to reappear. Years passed and then in the end, men started sleeping with their daughters and some even impregnated them only to save them from the snakes. Rolmaghata was a Hell on Earth Country by then. Sometimes the people thanked the colonialists for eradicating those wicked filthy cultural practices; but the new God from Europe only favored the Europeans and their fellow White men from Asia and America.
          My Grandma told me so many stories about the history of this country, the nature of mankind and how this world came into existence. But my friend was already afraid of the winged snakes, so he told me never to continue narrating to him again. It was already late, despite of tinted windows; we saw giant mosquitoes flying over and above the Hammer. They were the ones that cause Yellow fever, Malaria and Dengue. That meant to get out of the car was fetching one’s own death. The jungle was scary, very scary. We were worried about our lives and our car, the story of the winged snakes and the tribe of the thieves made it even scarier than before. After seven minutes of absolute silence, I heard something from the distance; it was the voice of a man calling from the wilderness, my friend was asleep already, I woke him up, a hyena laughed, then an Owl, then followed by footsteps of a very tall, dreaded men; walking like Zombies, we knew we were dead already. They came near the car, the way they dressed; I came to realize that they were the members of the tribe that lived in the jungle. I thought they wanted to rob us, but instead they watched us the whole night, they even gave us some roasted bush meat and cassava for dinner. They were fifteen men, eight women and four little babies. The dawn of the new day, Militiamen and their families were still there, they laid their children down the road and covered them with Banana leaves, men and women were standing near the car watching us.
          We walked out of the car and told them that we were out of gas, they agreed to push the car to Nopinia but with a single favor, that we put their children in the car, we agreed and they started pushing it. They told us that they too were moving to Nopinia because the forest was getting deforested everyday by the machines from the paper mills owned by some higher government officials.
          They have tried to plant new trees only to see them destroyed by the herd of cattle from the ranch owned by the Minister of Agriculture. Then they decided to move into the caves but the winged snakes chased them. At last they came back to the jungle which was almost getting cleared; from there they saw thousands of people immigrating to Nopinia during the day because they were afraid of the dark. They decided to move to Nopinia but not during the day because nobody believed that they still existed.
          They lost the franchise since the second colonial invasion, so the government never bothered to care for them even after the independent day. The government only cared for those who promised to vote for them and this was only during the campaign; after that the chapter was closed only to be opened the next election. Back then in Romata, the term democracy meant “the government of the thieves, by the thieves and for the thieves”, so the tribe expanded although they never realized that. The forgotten tribe ruled the country for centuries and they are still in power but they have forgotten their brothers back in the jungle.
          A goat is a goat even if mothered by a cow, I asked them; why don’t you go to the capital and join your brothers? They will be very pleased. “Do you think that we will master the modern theft?” one of them asked. The only people who never fail are those who never try, I told them. So they left us there, they took with them their children and their foolishness, they left.
 
*****
I asked myself this question, if all the citizens will move to Nopinia, then what is the meaning of being a leader if there is no one to lead? Is there any government on Earth without the people? Because the country is dead already if it doesn’t care for the lives of its own people; but the stupid tribe thought that the government is really their brother, O poor idiots, they were sleeping when Renaissance came to enlighten them. They always leave their brain at home and head out for the battle. They carried their holey gaberlunzie and disappeared. We were alone again; for sure the journey to Nopinia was just like that of a Sinner trying to get into the gates of New Jerusalem. Many obstacles along the way; I told my friend to leave the car there and take a long walk to the Promised Land. He refused because he loved his Hammer so much; he told me to go and look for gas in Nopinia and then come back.
          So I left him there because even our cell phones were out of airtime so we couldn’t have called anybody or texted anyone. He remained there standing with his arms akimbo; such a pity moment to abandon a friend in the middle of the jungle. After two miles walk, I came to the scene of the deadly car accident; a Lorry and a Toyota Land Cruiser. Nobody survived the accident but the vehicles didn’t explode; I just unloaded about twenty liters of gas and left the corpses of the drivers to be eaten by the members of the Accipitridae family.
          My friend Kasisi was very happy to see me, but he was much happier to see the gas; so we fuelled our Hammer and drove off the cursed jungle, we arrived in Port Anipi very late in the evening, such a heavenly city, lights everywhere, high class lodges and lounges, smart women with bigger bums edible for human use. That was the most expensive city on Earth; the cost of a cup of tea in a hotel was equal to the annual budget for three ministries in the Republic of Romata.
          We parked our Hammer in front of Emperor Haile Selassie Hotel; we lodged a double room and ordered a big meal for dinner, after that; we headed to the Big Day Music Hall, WOW! Sometimes life is very good if you keep seeing beautiful things all the time, and the best of it is only if you will have them for life. The rhythm of romantic melodies accompanied with the bedroom lyrics... I really enjoyed the artistic composition of the verses as I was dancing with Yolanda, a girl on the dancing floor, a girl I was about to milk, very yummy she was...very appetizing. The Disc Jockey knew exactly what I wanted, the old school… Not knowing the historical background of her previous affairs, being ignorant of the fact that she is the “Killer Girl”, I concentrated only on the lyrics of the man on the radio, as the DJ noticed that a rib was holding my waist, his fingers pushed the volume button…
 
*****
We left the music hall and went back to the Hotel, it was already in the midnight but Port Anipi was as bright as the Morning Star. I was very sleepy, I forgot even to take Yolanda with me; I went to the bathroom to take shower and I slept there. When I woke up in the morning, I found myself in a little Shanty Town called San Python, the way it smelled like raw adult human shit; I came to the conclusion that it was the Armpit of the World. I never knew how I got there, but I just remembered that I was sleeping in the bathroom and it was in a very luxurious hotel and that’s all. It was in the morning, it was in the evening, it was day one.
          I slept in one of the classrooms in the nearby school. When it dawned, I walked around and headed to one of the apartments in the nearby, a certain woman came out and barked at me; who the heck are you motherfucker? Are you a new teacher or a new student? I looked at her, her big breasts hanging like magic mangoes on a mango tree, huge like magic Caribbean Papaya; her face black like the buttocks of Satan, I wondered the sperms that fertilized her mother’s ovum, what a waste.
          As she was still showing me how she can get use of her worthless trumpet, a certain short man came out from that same house; he introduced himself as the Principal and asked me to spare his mad wife. The man welcomed me to his house, he told me never to mention what happened to anybody even at the gun point and I promised never to utter even a single word. I asked about the name of the school and he said; the people called it San Python School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but its official name was Saint Peter’s College of Cultural Heritage.
          In that town, everyone was either a Witch or a Wizard, so Mr. Principal asked me to go to New Bridge Street; there I could find some rooms for rent and some cheap women. So I left the compounds of the college and went to New Bridge, it was still very early in the morning; the place was really the Toilet of the Earth. A long walk, through an ugly path, very ugly more than the word ugly itself.
          I was almost there, so I slowed my speed, just like what happens in the movie, I was walking in slow motion, but suddenly I met a woman, a mad woman, she was naked and some stings of rotten menstrual blood covered the whole atmosphere. Just like someone forwarding a compact disc, I ran like Jamaican Bolt. The mad woman seeing so, she joined me, without knowing that I was already in the frontline, racing in an Olympic Marathon at the time, I disappeared into the thin air, just like a ghost, pyaaa! I was nowhere to be seen.
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PostSubject: Re: THE HOUSE OF BROKEN HEARTS   Wed Jun 27, 2018 4:24 pm

CHAPTER 6
 
Kong! Kong! Kong...Ngong! Ngong! Ngong... Tung! Tung! Tung... the noisy metallic sound continued to disturb millions of eardrums in the neighborhood. Nkong! Nkong! Nkong! The residents were growing impatient as one harlot walked out of a brothel naked followed by a giant cock from the back, roaring like a Lioness in labor shouting…what the hell is wrong with you motherfucker? Nkong! Nkong! Nkong! To what end? We need peace you little pussy…
          You need peace? And how is that my business you worthless scumbag? A metal worker responded. Fuck you…, fuck you too! For anyone walking across the New Bridge Street early in the morning, he would be probably welcomed and greeted in such a way that his entire day would smell raw shit. The town was a destination for distinguished prostitutes, bandits, pirates and businessmen who escaped paying taxes to the revenue authorities. The Tattoos and filthy paintings on the walls decorated the civilization of the inhabitants; guns, explosives and knives in each house symbolized the height of their hospitality. The Sword on the table during meals represented the level of their kindness.
          Life in that town was very simple, all you need to do is to wake up from your under bridge rag room; organize a mob, find some guns and machetes, go and rob a bank, easy money. But things changed later when financial firms modified their security systems. Banks employed soldiers from the other world; the “Invisibles”. During the hottest seasons of the year, life turned bitter for many; Textile Industries were closed, boutiques received no customers, and to go naked was the fashion of the season and sex was declared human right.
          For those who nicknamed themselves as sons and daughters of God branded the place as Hell on Earth Town, but they never quit the place until the wrath of God fell upon it. To find a job in that town was very hard; in one office, you could find a husband the general manager, his wife the accountant, his son the marketing director, his niece the secretary, his old friend’s neighbor a gate man and a cleaner from his home village. For the new comers in town, they were advised to take an advantage of the present and seize any opportunity whenever it presented itself. Since the only people who never fail are those who never try, children and strangers were told that life in town was never a journey but a race in which you have to kill each day to live each day, being number one is everything, no second places, no second sucks. Someone could find a key to success and somebody else could just simply change the lock; so the government formulated lots of slogan to encourage citizens to work hard and to be creative and competitive in the labor market even though subjects and classroom lessons never prepared students to be with such qualities.
          An African student born in the arid home where they only see fish in books learning fishing in Japan and Timber Industry in Canada was really a waste of time and mental raping. But their little gods kept on proposing slogans; one of them read “No Competition, No Development”, the other one stated “Strength lies in differences not similarities”. But the most celebrated one was “The shadow has no place in the darkness”.
          The jobless ones were regarded as lazy and San Python was the darkness itself. In factories and workshops all over the town, the message on the gates read “Good things are not meant for the Lazy”. So there was never easy job, never easy money; you dare rob a bank, your ass got kicked by the Invisibles. They were the Mercenary Jinn from the Persian Gulf, Syndicates and Tycoons imported them to protect their businesses, some Evil Champagne Politicians employed them as their personal guards; others went further and married them and as usual pregnant Jinn delivers after three months, so the town was not a place for ordinary people as those jinxes brought nothing but tension and hypertensions though they really looked sexy.
          That early morning I reached at New Bridge Street and rented a room; it’s said that when in Rome, do as Romans do, so in San Python if you don’t have some money to pay your Landlord or Landlady, then you pay by sex. So if you are a man then you do better find an apartment owned by a woman, you make love to her in two days, you live free in two weeks. So I got a room and spent the whole night with her, she almost paralyzed my manhood, very rough. That morning I woke up from the heap of broken mirrors; my back was itching seriously, my entire spinal cord was in great pain. No one even the Devil himself could stand such time and live, but I survived. I really tried to wake up but it was just like reality, with all the consciousness with me, there was nothing fictional, no dreams, it was really happening. I was in San Python for sure, the land of the whores, no jealousy, you can have sex even to the wife of your brother in his presence and no war. But everyone was sick, mostly from sexually transmitted infections like syphilis, gonorrhea, fungus, HIV and the likes.
          There was no shop selling Condoms, even the hospitals provided no contraceptives. This was because the church, with its lunatic dogma insisted that people multiply and fill the earth, and so people using condoms or any other form of contraceptive or family planning measures were condemned sinners and they were banned from the societies. The church auxiliaries stopped sponsoring orphanages, education and threatened cursing the nation when the government intervened into the matter. What a stupid religion, what a shame? I was really sick that I found myself speaking things no one can understand...
          That morning my little face was full of shame, life was very bitter and that time it pushed me to swallow my pride for new things to happen. I was really sad, really sad when I saw a young married woman leaving her husband only because money was no longer part of their family. She took the kids with her and left the man with his poor scrotum as a possession. Pity! The man begged and begged, but the woman never uttered even a single word of mercy.
          Sometimes falling in love while you have got holes in your pocket is not a good thing to do. Sometimes I wish marriage could be just like any other job where people write application letters, attaching their curriculum vitae and get paid for the job well done and if they mess up, they get fired. My entire body was growing weaker and weaker, my legs were developing pins and needles, my stomach was roaring like thunder. I crawled like a snake trying to get into that stupid room of mine; seeing that I cannot stand again as I use to be, I cried like a little baby asking for help. The man left alone with his poor scrotum as a possession came and lifted me up like an empty bucket, he told me; “when my wife left me you didn’t do anything you little fool, now that you are between my fingers begging for help, what has come over you huh? Now that you look slim like a toothpick does it mean you slept carelessly with some fat bums?” Let the pain take control, he added. I remained speechless, what could I do? Just allowing the laws of the universe to take its course; he dropped me on the floor like a Charcoal bag and abandoned me there.
          As he was leaving the room, he twisted his spring neck and said; “next time use condom, it’s much safer than the warmth of some contaminated genitals. This is San Python, not Romata, don’t trust women easily, most of them are members of the deadly Angela Roy Milking Society”. He left… Hey Mr. Man of God, close that fucking door, I shouted. He pushed the wooden door and disappeared. Though nobody told him to tell me the truth, I knew he was hurrying to take his daily bread, the ARVs. Thank goodness I was alone in that house, at least nobody heard what was happening with my bowels; coughing like an Elephant with Tuberculosis, stretching myself like Naja naja on fire, sweating like fish; it was really a stinging moment.
          At that time of pain and worries, I remembered the God of the Colonists, in their religious Novel “Bible” written by a bunch of creative authors, I read one of the legendary character called Jesus who used extra-ordinary powers to heal people. Whether magic or divine, he saved men, women and children. They said that the man from the book will one day come back to punish his own creation, the universe. Such a story threatened many and people sacrificed everything including their wives to Pastors and self acclaimed Prophets who in turn developed into a wealthy class in the name of the gospel. I remembered Brian Deacon and how the world worshiped that English Jesus, what a shame. Hanging his pictures on the walls of every home deified the culture of the Middle East and the supremacy of the Western world.
          Since when did Brian Deacon become Jesus of Nazareth? Anyway, it can be the way of spreading the word of God, but now he has branded himself as God, or else the stupid Christians are working tirelessly to justify their stupidity by printing the portrait of Deacon or some other white guys, making money out of their sales. To me, that is more than SIN. Remembering such a portrait of Divinity was the funniest of its kind, but if really the Bible is telling the truth, why did such a holy scripture allow itself to be abused in the hands of Colonists and letting the Whites go unpunished? Taking with them all the resources in the name of a stupid Civilization Mission? Did the God of Europe and America created Africa as both their Wealth Pot and a Dust Bin? I wanted to pray for the heavenly intervention, but I remembered that even the stories of Heavens and the Hell were all fabrications of the Colonists.
          Where is hell anyway? Is it down there? Can someone dig the ground and reach there? And why did the Romans had Galileo assassinated? Where was that God when Missionaries delivered our souls into the hands of Europeans? Was that also written in the Bible? I asked myself, why don’t people pray then before having sex? I wish I could have done so before bumping myself on top of that heap of viruses, maybe I could have been a champion of some Olympic games this year.
          But look at me now, slim like an Acupuncture needle; so what can I call this mess? I asked myself. But hold on, there are things that are happening in this world and we can’t find the answers, things such as the universe, the sun, the moon and the stars; where do these things come from? The origin of life, why are living things dying? And if they are dead, where do they go? Is the grave their last resting place? Even if the colonists negatively spread the gospel, the outcome has been very positive, and by the way, is there any other God who is so true and just other than this one? Is there any? Can somebody answer me?
          At nightfall I heard some footsteps marching towards my yard, heavy like those of Loxodonta africana, big one like those of Satan walking straight towards my wooden door, I worried about my ramshackle health for I could not be able to stand such a bulldozing march. I tried to find where my soul was so that I could exile it but it was too late. I stood up firmly like Centurion though I was weak like a sperm tail; walking towards the door to see with my own eyes what was going on out there. The deserted seat of the spirit in the lonely house, a knock at the door…Tum! Tum! Tum! Nicholas...Nicholas, open the door? The voice of a woman called. From the pose of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon; my one and only sick cock rose to sky high and lifted my pants like a crane, I opened the door slowly with my chest forward.
---bienvenido a casa [welcome home]
---Oh Nicholas, Wow! (She hugged me).
That was Senorita, a girl from Mexico, she was the best friend of Sophia Herman Tungi, when she heard that Sophia died, she automatically became my woman because we loved each other even before meeting Sophia.
---How is Mexico?
---Fine.
---So who told you that I am here?
---Oh! Your Landlady is my Mom.
---What? (I fainted.) When I woke up, behold!
 
A beautiful hill of pleasure at the back
Bewitching round spots on her breast
Shining eyes like fireflies in the dark
 
Calling lips that can quench my thirst
Spongy thighs that invite heart attack
Yummy cheeks that refreshes my chest
 
She was there, on the bed, waiting for lucky me. Let me tell you something my grand children, some girls are beautiful, really they are, even myself do appreciate that. But Maria Rodriguez was above all, with her Spanish accent, when she calls you, as if there’s a festival in heaven and you are attending there. If she kisses you, as if there’s someone telling you that your name is written in the book of life; if she touches you, as if you will never die, and if she gives you the best of her taste... O my goodness, no words to tell. Now she was telling me to get closer, I torn apart my pants and jumped. How can I put it? Let me see, I asked the European God to forgive me because I was about to go against the book of Exodus 20:14. That day San Python was punished.
          The wrath of gods and goddesses from all over the world fell upon the town. Representatives from different civilizations attended and each brought their supreme beings to gather power to destroy San Python for good. The Chief God of the Town “Babachuchu” was the strongest and he feared no one. But in a twinkling of an eye that little Shanty Town exploded and I woke up. I can’t recall what happened but I was still sleeping in the bathroom inside Emperor Haile Selassie Hotel. Grrr! I roared, who woke me up? Nobody responded; a knock on the door, who is in there? I’m a maintenance man…open up? I jumped off the Jacuzzi and rushed on the wall to pick up the towel, before I completed tying it up; the maintenance man bumped in, Oh my Green God! He was carrying a Bazooka…He was breathing heavily like a pregnant Elephant; I decided to press to discovery.
---What is happening?
---We are going to war… (Answered the maintenance man as he was struggling to land the weapon he was carrying)
---War? Fighting what biggy?
---Death, human beings want to live forever man…we are fighting death.
          He put the bazooka on the wooden table and started loading it, at the far corner there was a huge metal box, I didn’t know what was inside, and he told me to bring it. Beneath the box there was an envelope, Biggy what of this khaki envelope? I asked politely. Let me see, he insisted. He opened the envelope and shouted! What the hell? Who brought this here? He asked; his eyes wide open like a pooping demon, he sat down silently like a feather and concentrated on the paper which read:
 
To all the armed forces and patriots of the federal republic of Nopinia; Greetings! Comrade, our nepionic country was already crawling and we were busy erecting its economic pillars, but now our own breast cannot breastfeed our starving son. Join us in our campaign and let’s save our land from the hands of the psychopaths; “praeses debet mori, nisi hac sola via”__ the president must die, this is the only way to save this country. Hope to see you there soon, and remember; the codename is ‘Operation VIP’.
 
This must be happening soon, the music hall is not so far from here, hey, why are you here? Asked the maintenance man, you must be one of us, name your passcode. He forgot that he was reading the letter aloud, so I remembered the passcode he just mentioned a minute ago and I answered:
---Operation VIP
---Operation what?
---Operation VIP!
---Correct comrade, tell me the coordinates, the headquarters must watch this, I want to stream live. What is your name? He asked.
---My name is Nicholas, W.W.W.
---That is counterfeit, your real name?
---Jonathan Tafreg I guess.
---Are you kidding, how can you guess your name? Tafreg is not your name either, that is the name of the former prime minister of the Ghost Island.
---What is your name little rabbit? He asked furiously, this time I decided to tell him the naked truth.
---“My name is Nicholas Morgan Tafreg, the last of my kind; I am the father of Jonathan Tafreg, the former prime minister you mentioned happened to be my son. I am the living guardian of the Tafreg Dynasty, my mission is to find the lost constitution and give it back to the owners of the land.”
---The lost constitution? Asked the maintenance man,
---Yeah! I replied. It’s called “The House of Broken Hearts”, all the spirits from the afterlife are looking for it.
---Are you also the spirit?
---That is an answer Mr. Bazooka, ask the question now.
---The lost constitution is with the president, his heart is the key to the safe, kill him and you will accomplish your worthless mission. To get the safe, you must live a hundred years from now.
---Where is the safe? I asked.
---It’s not yet made; its manufacturer is not yet born.  You can die if you like and come back to life later. (Replied the maintenance man)
---The president is my best friend, I can’t kill him.
---That is the problem with the spirits of nowadays, they easily forget the fact that they are demons; now this one is pretending to befriend humanity, go to hell! Shouted the maintenance man and stood upright.
---The one you are going to kill is not the president, so stop acting like a lunatic and get ready. Dress up paperboy, we are going to war. We must get rid of that good for nothing David Coin and his allies. Yesterday he sold two provinces to his best friend in Europe. Early this morning he attended the birthday party in the United States and he promised to give three million acres of arable land as the birthday gift to the son of his favorite musician.  Now he is on his way coming home, our men are waiting at the airport. They will give him a VIP treatment. Prepare for the battle, let’s go to the music hall, he will be there soon enjoying the New Year’s Eve with his concubines. He thinks that this country belongs to his grandma? He must pay for his sins that son of a pig. I dressed up as ordered the maintenance man, he took his bazooka, and I carried the metal box and the envelope. The hall was amazing, red carpet everywhere. We took our chances and telephoned the headquarters. You’ll pull the trigger; shoot him between the balls, end of story. Said biggy, his moustache like the Jamaican Bobo, he smiled for the first time and loaded his Coffinata, the latest model, the most deadliest long range rifle on earth.
          According to the Nopinian Mythology, the rifle was used for the first time by its manufacturer, Louis Kester Bottleman, who was the soldier from the underworld. It was first used to kill aliens from the Colfelog, one of the notorious provinces on the moon. Its inhabitants invaded the earth several times and took with them very rare earth metals, women, water, cattle and crops. When human beings declared war against them, they descended during the night and raped all the female animals including their women and children. Human beings later allied with the King of the Underworld who promised to help them under one condition; that all the departing souls will join his rebel army down the hell.
          The King of Humans accepted the terms and Bottleman was sent to save mankind from the wrath of the King of Colfelog. Bottleman designed the rifle to take the souls straight to his underworld burning barracks. When the war reached to an end, Bottleman manufactured only ten Coffinatas and gave the King of Humans as the remembrance of their friendship and contract. Bottleman went back home and there was peace on earth. Colfelog was destroyed completely and life ceased on the moon.
          About four to five minutes later, my target was already in, such a moment that no mercenary or a sniper would dare waste even a second, just like a man in the heart of the desert, what could he do at the sight of an Oasis? I used Biggy’s Coffinata to send an old man on his way; the hell opened its bellies and swallowed him, as I was rushing to get his heart, he disappeared. The maintenance man transformed, I took one of the girls as a hostage and escaped; on my way out the book opened its last page and the same hand that grabbed me in, took me out and the book closed again. I heard the voice from the book saying “What you have witnessed and the life that you lived as our guest is real and that is what happened to the great Nopinia, your experience is the content of the lost constitution, go and tell the world everything you saw, tell them about the tribe of the thieves, tell them about Romata, tell them about the Federal Republic of Nopinia, and don’t forget to tell them about the moon and the soldiers from the underworld”. We fell on the ground like mangoes falling from the mango tree. It was unfortunate that my hostage was pregnant, so she was unable to run all night. We slept at the nearby cemetery and waited for the dawn. It was the longest night, so long we waited, poco a poco, and at last, we slept.
          The next morning I woke up, tired and hungry, the pregnant lady was still asleep; she was the most beautiful girl and the last of her kind. When I gazed at her, I smiled and laughed, I was so happy to escape with the hostage, the girl that later came to be the mother of my doyens, the cure to all the earthly problems. She woke up and we journeyed westward, we reached the shore around 8:00 A.M in the morning of December 31, 2099; I found Tony, Gilbert and Olympia waiting. I was surprised to see them alive; they asked about the lady and I told them “She is a gift from the book”. Which book? Asked Olympia, (she was a very jealous woman and cunning too). “The House...” which house? The House of Broken Hearts; where is the book now? Long story, I’ll tell you later.
          M.V. Poseidon II, the boat that brought us all that far, she was there ready to take us home. All on board! Screamed Tony, the island is sinking, hurry! We rushed in like fools and the island sunk and the deep of the sea remained quiet. The Big Mama (M.V. Poseidon II) took us to the Blue Olympus Cape; we moored at the Pink Shadow Harbour on the second of January, 2100. What is your name sis? Asked Olympia; my name is Vicky Winslet. Nice name, welcome to our world paper lady (Because she came from the book), thank you! Answered Vicky, and we departed. Gilbert and Tony went to see their father who was living in the land of Essay, just five miles from the heart of the Blue Olympus Town. Olympia, Vicky and I boarded a bus to Justice Road Children’s Park and we lived a happier life thereafter. After some months later, Vicky gave birth to a bouncing baby boy and we named him Tafreg, my father.
 
*****
          After listening to the story, children asked an old man to narrate another story with a happy ending; but an old man didn’t utter a word, he was already gone. Seeing so, King Rhombus descended from the pavilion and joined the children to mourn the deceased. Meanwhile, he wanted to prove for sure that an old man died. Actually, it wasn’t a happy ending, but rather; a bitter bite to end the meal. Now that it was clear to him that an old man was no more, he was a little bit delighted; but the children were really saddened by the incident. No one to comfort them, loneliness and stings of disunity that was shading around was like a dagger in their hearts, piercing them sliver by sliver. King Rhombus realized that, after the burial, his majesty summoned the children.
          His intensions were not bad, he just wanted a place in the children’s heart, and he also wanted them to remember him in their kingdom. So, he thought of a story to tell them, a story of a man called Madusa, the fisherman from the nearby land of Ratura. So saying, children sat and waited for their new friend to tell them a story, they prayed first, and then King Rhombus sat amidst them:
---Hello! My lovely grand children, how are you today?
---We are not fine. (Children gave him a choir response)
---I understand the situation you’re into now, but don’t worry about grandpa anymore. It’s written that man shall go back to the hands of his maker, so grandpa is probably there already incase if he is not encountering some problems with the custom officials about the Visa stuffs and the like.
---Visa? (Asked one of the children, determined to go there and help his grandpa to get rid of those custom officials)
---Yeah my grandchildren, Visa and some passports! It’s not easy to go to heaven; you can die and continue roaming here and there if you don’t have the Visa and the passport. But don’t worry, after telling you this story, he will surely get the Visa.
---Really?
---Yes!
---And what is Visa anyway?
---Oh, visa is an endorsement on a passport which indicates that the holder is allowed to enter, leave, or stay for a specified period of time in a country, another planet, hell or heaven.
---We need a visa, we need a visa… give us a visa… (Children crowded around his majesty)
---Ok, calm down my children, calm down… Yes that way… now that you are ready to listen, I won’t waste a minute, get close and listen. Can somebody tell me where is Africa?
--- (Children looked at each other in surprise, whispering in low voices…) Africa? Africa is in heaven… (Answered a boy aging about eight centuries)
---Heaven? Do you know how heaven looks like?
---Yeah!
---Enhe?
---It looks like Africa, isn’t grandpa?
---Yeah my children, heaven looks like Africa; and Africa looks like heaven, but there is neither heaven in Africa nor Africa in heaven.
---Why?
---Because in Africa, everyone is trying to be God, and their godliness is not turning Africa into heaven, but hell.
---Why is Africa doing that?
---The problem is not with Africa, but Africans.
---Who are these Africans?
---You and you and you… and you.
---But grandpa…?
---Grand what? Have you blackened your skin with shoe polish? Let me tell you something, even if you call yourselves with English names, you’ll always be Africans.
---Grandpa can I ask you something? (Asked Lumbazi, the bravest of all the boys)
---Go ahead son!
---Are you black or dark?
---You…you cousin of a cat… are you insulting me?
---No grandpa, but I can’t see you.
---Do you think I’m seeing you either? I can only see your teeth when you laugh… see who is talking, like a nightmare.
---Hahahahaaaaaaa! (They both laughed)
---Actually I don’t know why we Africans are black; there is no theory that can prove anything. If God created man in his own image, then I wonder if God is multicolor or something… I really can’t figure it out. But I think God is also black, don’t you think so?
---Yeah, he must be black, but not an African… Hahahaaaa!
---Ok, let’s stop it, whether God is black or white, African or European; that is none of our business. The only thing that matters is that we are black, and that is our identity and we love it that way. So, listen about this fellow African, who fished a woman instead of a fish. Hahahaaaa! Very funny!
---What happened? (Children asked as they laughed and laughed…)
---So many things happened, but where is Selina and Jedidiah?
---In Aruba, we buried an old man with his magic wristwatch, we forgot to use it to inform them, and we can’t even send them a signal.
---Aruba? Which year?
---2015.
---2015? Women and machine, one day they will even time travel back to Virgin Mary and tell her about the prophesy of conceiving Jesus even before the angels of God reach there. But don’t worry; they will come for sure, only that they won’t find this year in history. And as I speak to you now, they are on their way to the Smoke City, 1350 AD.
---What are they going to do there?
---To change the destiny of an old man, that is another beauty of immortality.
---Wow! Are you also immortal?
---As we’re all. Are you not from the photo?
---Yes we are. And unfortunately the house disappeared with it.
---Don’t worry, after the story, I will surely take you back to Eden to meet Adam and Eve there, your real grandparents. They will tell you more about the house, the photo, an old man, Selina, Jedidiah and I. But for now, let me take you to Africa.
---Yeah! Take us to Africa.
---Alright! King Rhombus narrated…
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PostSubject: Re: THE HOUSE OF BROKEN HEARTS   Wed Jun 27, 2018 4:25 pm

CHAPTER 7
 
Long time far back, somewhere in Africa, during the reign of chiefs and tribal leaders; there emerged a small but very powerful chiefdom, Ratura it was called. It was just a small village, but very civilized. People trusted their chiefs and kinsmen; they worshiped their gods whenever they wanted to eat or go for fishing. At a time, it was actually a men’s village. It was a place for fishermen and traders from Gashura and Wabiriga. After several years, few women reached there as whores, and served as communal concubines for all the fishermen.
          The population of fishermen dropped dramatically, some died of sexually transmitted infections, and others were drowned into water during their fishing activities. Jealousy developed among them and consumed their lives. Little had they know, that the very women they were dying for, were not humans, they would have zipped their desires and focus on fishing fish instead of spirits. Few men left decided to marry and abstained from womanizing. Later on, there was peace; all boys aging eighteen were forced to marry before being consumed by the tentacles of adolescence.
          There was a man who married what the rest called an abomination; the man married a barren woman whose breasts were big like buckets. She wept the very day she got married, and now she was very tired, her little round face swollen, wet and shaggy. From a closer look, she was not happy at all for the gods had closed her womb not to bear even a single child for her husband. She was a very shaggy woman, just like any other primate of the jungle, she was much alike the baboons of the inland Ratura. Her breasts were said to weigh almost ten kilos each. She was the ugliest woman on earth; she even scared children when she smiled. No wonder she ended up marrying a handsome fisherman, son of a custodian of the old ways, keeper of the customs of the forefathers. Akisi she was called, daughter of the late Chief Anguro of Gashura.
          Despite all the elements of ugliness, Akisi never wanted to beautify herself to please the public opinion. Her husband, Madusa the fisherman loved her so much. This love was enough for Akisi to consider herself as beautiful. Since beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, Madusa left all the girls of Ratura and married Akisi. The man found something interesting about the breasts of Akisi, apart from her breasts, her hairy body stimulated Madusa to the climax. She was dark skinned, natural and well fed. Her morphology like a soldier, pure hearted and smart. She was a woman of principles, who enjoyed no jokes except from her husband, but this time she was really exhausted from the stings of loneliness and infertility. She wanted a child comma; she wanted a child full stop. Madusa was just eighteen when his father Obare married Akisi for him. Obare offered thirty eight bulls, twelve cows, fourteen goats, two canoes, seven hoes and a machete to Chief Anguro as a bride price. Akisi was only twelve at the time, but her breasts were already as big as a pumpkin.
          Chief Anguro had once issued an order to force men to marry her, but men were ready to hang themselves instead of facing what they called an abomination. He even tried to milk her daughter in an attempt to get rid of her breasts, but none of the efforts produced better results. Obare was not an idiot to pay all the expenses for such an ugly woman; he wanted his son to marry a woman who won’t attract the attention of other men in Ratura, especially his fellow fishermen. Akisi was the best choice, but there was a problem with the decision. She was fruitless. After fifteen good years, there came a time when Obare fell ill, all he wanted was to hold his grandchildren before he embraced his ancestors, but Akisi failed to prove an old man right, she instead offered a reason for enmity and mistrust from her in-laws. Obare was disappointed, he demanded Madusa to marry another woman, but the son insisted on believing in the gods, that one day his wife will regain her fruitfulness and bear him hundreds of sons and daughters. The next day Madusa left his compound early in the morning and went on fishing in the nearby Lake Ratura. His heart was not at ease, he recalled his conversation with his father the previous night, and he didn’t want to share the thoughts with his fellow fishermen. He was very distressed and confused. He finally came to a humble conclusion, to pray and wait till the fullness of time.
          It was a very lucky day for Madusa, but for anyone in his shoes, it was not lucky at all. He fished a woman instead of fish. This happened when he was drawing out the nets from the water, his canoe nearly sank, he thought of a shark or a whale, then he thought of a crocodile or a corpse, but reaching the water surface, it was none of it, but a naked woman; freshly naked, with all the pleasures below in a smart display. She was breathing, very alive, tender and splendor. She was not having even a single scar, her breasts like heavenly needles, her waist like the neck of a bottle, her hips like a rainbow, fair in complexion, with long dark hairs like a mermaid, but she was no mermaid, she was just a beautiful woman from the water.
          Madusa was both terrified and happy, where she is coming from terrified the fisherman, but her beauty made him a happier man in the whole terrestrial globe. The idea of marrying her popped in his mind, he asked for her name and the lady answered “Layola”. He took her home, laughter!
 
*****
No woman in the shoes of Akisi that would just sit and do nothing when a husband comes back home from job carrying a strange woman instead of food or gifts. It was during the sunset when Madusa arrived home, his sick father was still lying down in his hut, and Akisi had prepared corn cake and was now waiting for her husband to bring fish. When she heard the approaching foot march of her husband, she rushed out to welcome him, it was her custom to welcome her sweetheart that way; but things turned upside down, she nearly fainted when she saw her husband carrying a bare woman.
          Actually, it was very strange, Madusa took his shirt and gave it to Layola to warm her body, but from the waist downwards, she was totally naked and ripe. The commotion from the lake up home had left Madusa erected and helpless. From a professional gaze, he has slept with her before reaching home, judging from the beauty of the woman, no perfect gentleman could have abstained from doing what Akisi was thinking.
          In a twinkling of an eye, Akisi was out of control; she jammed and fumed like a charging lioness. The commotion forced Obare out of his bed and was now crawling like a snake trying to see what the heck was going on. He managed to reach out there only to find his one and only son holding Layola, the sea goddess of wealth and power. Obare died instantly, not because of what he saw, but because of the idiocy of his son for not knowing what to fish and how to fish it. Madusa wept helplessly till his voice dried up. Akisi accused her husband for killing his own father, she left instantly and went inside to pack her things, she didn’t forget to pack her well prepared corn cake, as she was leaving, Layola stopped her. In a very unusual drawling accent, the half naked woman asked:
---Where do you think you’re going?
---Out of my way you evil spirit.
---Poor child! One day you’ll understand these things, you must keep growing, not in your breasts, but your brain. Next time no one will stop you, but mark my words, it’s never a good idea to carry food with you when leaving your husband’s house in that mood. You can starve to death instead of getting help from what you call a well prepared corn cake. I know you girls from Gashura love eating so much, but this is not Gashura, this is Ratura, women don’t cross these walls with food taking to another wall. Leave that cake and you may go in peace, no one will stop you.
          It was another hard moment for Akisi to make sound judgments, trusting the spirit was not an easy path. She then decided to stay, but continued lamenting and blaming everyone for allowing such things to happen. The villagers were very outnumbered and scattered. It wasn’t easy for a neighbor to hear any commotion in the vicinity unless somebody shouted at the top of his voice. Layola insisted not to cry, but Madusa was already in half time, waiting for another half to proceed with weeping. It was getting dark, Madusa stood up and went inside, he took a hoe and a spade, he started digging. Layola joined him, and so did Akisi, they helped Madusa dig a grave for his father.
          Now that Obare was buried already, it was a time to lecture Akisi about Layola. It was a custom that if an old man dies in that manner, people should not weep or tell even the relatives urgently. Although Madusa failed to hold the inevitable, no one in Ratura noticed the incident at the time except Madusa, Akisi and Layola. Akisi prepared dinner, a dry corn cake without a stew. Madusa fumed:
---“Where is fish?” he asked.
---“Are you blind? Can’t you see the naked fish sitting by your side?” she meant Layola. The fisherman jammed, like boiling water, his temper poured out like volcano, he nearly killed his wife with a blow.
---“Are you beating me because of her?” wept Akisi, “Is it because her breasts are not bigger than mine?” poor Akisi wept bitterly that even her husband Madusa felt uneasy.
---“What is it woman? Is this the first time to beat you up? By the way, you’re just consuming my fish and corn cake for nothing, why can’t you bear me children? Huh! Aren’t you a woman?” Layola intervened because she was now the source of all the blames.
---“Nothing to worry Akisi, I am not here to take away your husband from you, I am here to help you build a better family. After nine months of pregnancy, you will surely bear him a bouncing baby boy. Trust me, the end of your shame has come, you will never drop your tears because of not bearing children, you will cry for labor”.
“What?” shouted Akisi, “me pregnant? Hahahahaaaaaaa! You must be kidding, that is impossible. You must be dreaming, Hahahahaaaaaaa! Let me wait and see”. It was very hard for Akisi to believe any of the words spoken by Layola. Madusa was just quiet all this while, staring at Layola, his thoughts went far, he was imagining how sweet Layola might be, then he zoomed the idea of kissing her, without conscious, he laughed loudly “Hahahahaaaaaaa! Ahuuuuu” Akisi was shocked, but Layola knew exactly what was happening. They were making love, laughter!
 
*****
“Wake up Madusa, wake up…” Akisi was trying to awaken her husband, but Layola insisted not to wake him up, “don’t you want to be pregnant? Leave your husband alone; can’t you see he is busy? Leave him, after some hours he will get back, just go inside and sleep, I’ll watch over him, don’t worry my lady, everything gonna be alright”. So saying, Akisi left and retired to bed, it was already late. Layola peeped here and there, there was no one watching, she took off that shirt and bumped herself atop Madusa who was lying down the ground on a wrapper, and there they were, making love in broad midnight. To Madusa it was a dream, to Layola it was real. That was the way of the goddess, after a couple of minutes, Madusa was dead tired, he woke up, and he could not believe what had been happening several minutes ago. He was smiling, gazing at her, he laughed.
---Why are you laughing Madusa?
---Hahahaaaa, you know… you know…
---What is it, tell me?
---I don’t know how to put it, but I have really enjoyed.
---Enjoyed what?
---Something.
---What something?
---Something very sweet.
---Something very sweet? And what is that?
---It’s right there… (Pointing his trigger finger at Layola)
---Where? (Layola asked looking at the direction of Madusa’s finger)
---Between your thighs, there is something very sweet in there, Hahahaaaa!
---Hahahaaaa! (They both laughed)
---I have an idea…
---What is it?
---Will you marry me?
---What? (Layola was a bit fumed, as if she didn’t expect it from Madusa)
---It’s just an idea; don’t take it serious my lady. I’m just confused, but I’m sure this is love, its love that I’m feeling… please think about it.
---What about Akisi?
---Ah! Akisi is not a problem actually; the problem is your beauty. See, if you marry me, and bear me children, I will love you wholeheartedly, and I will treat you handsomely, just say yes… just say yes.
---Akisi is pregnant as we speak.
---What?
---Yes, she is…
---Hold it there, let me go and see… this can’t be happening.
     Madusa left in a hurry, he rushed inside only to find Akisi in a deep sleep. Akisi… Akisi… Akisi wake up, Akisiiiii… Is she dead? Asked Madusa who was still naked; “She can’t hear you now, but trust me, she is pregnant.” Intervened Layola; “Really?” Oh yes, she is pregnant. So saying, Madusa left the room and went to the kitchen. He was really hungry, but there was nothing to eat. He only met with empty plates and sauce pans. “So, there is no food in this house? This doesn’t sound good, what a bad omen?” While still in the kitchen, Madusa was surprised to see a hand picking the fire woods, set fire and started cooking. Suddenly there was a smell of delicious traditional cuisine. That hand was pealing onions, chopping tomatoes and other fries; he saw two big tilapias being roasted.
          Everything was happening so fast that he thought he was dreaming. In a twinkling of an eye, the food was on the table. The hand fetched water for washing hands from a barrel at the far corner of the kitchen and there he was washing his hands. He sat and started eating. Just like a dream, he finished his meal and washed his hands, he stood up with his hands akimbo. Still wondering what was happening; he saw the hand washing the dishes and packing them where they were before. The hand took the broom and started sweeping, after some seconds, the kitchen was as if nobody was there and nothing happened; “Uuuuuwiiii! Wololooo! Uuuuuuuwiiii….”
          Madusa shouted at the top of his voice, but nobody responded. Layola was just laughing, as if there was another woman in her, when she laughed, as if they were two. “Hahahaaaa, Hahahaaaa, Hahahahaaaaaaa!” She laughed. Finally, she stood upright, she stretched herself and elongated her hand, and she grasped Madusa like a stick and held him firmly. Madusa was half dead; the only thing he was able to say was a rapid “YES” whenever Layola asked him anything.
---You won’t tell anybody what you saw in the kitchen, you hear me?
---Yes sir!
---Idiot, I’m not sir… do you hear me?
---Yes sir, oh sorry… yes sir!
---Stupid, I’m not a man, now listen, you call me sir again, I kill you.
---Yes sir!
---Are you tired of your worthless life?
---No woman can do what you’re doing to me, you must be a superman.
---Shut up!
---Yes sir!
          Akisi was now awake; she heard of the conversation outside but didn’t hear clearly, Layola notice this, when Akisi was pushing the door, Layola dropped Madusa on the ground. Akisi was still in a daze, but she saw something unusual out there. Layola disappeared into thin air.
---Madusa? Called Akisi who was walking like a crocodile; “Madusa…?”
---Madusa my husband, what happened to you?
---The fish…
---Which fish?
---The fish… the fish from the lake, she… she… she is not human?
---Who, Layola?
---Yes, yes, yes…
---I knew it; I had a bad feeling about her the moment she stepped into this compound. Are you not asking yourself why papa died instantly after seeing her? She must be the devil if not Satan.
---No, no, no… the devil is even better; she is a monster, very beautiful monster. Do you know what she did to me?
---How can I know, tell me?
---She raped me!
---What?
---Yes, she raped me.
---That is much better, I thought you raped her, if she is the one who raped you no problem. Sometimes you men need monsters like Layola to rape you so that you may learn your lesson in real sense. Are you not satisfied with your women? Do you think Layola’s vagina is producing gold?
---But I really enjoyed, she even cooked for me.
---There was no food in the kitchen; she cooked what then for you, her buttocks?
---Not really, she prepared two big tilapias and…
---And what?
---Ugali, a well cooked Ugali.
---Did you drink anything?
---Yes!
---What was it?
---A glass of milk.
---We don’t even have glasses in our village. I am afraid to tell you this, but you must have been eating a human flesh and drunk a human blood.
---That’s impossible.
---Let’s go to the kitchen and see.
---Let’s go.
          Both Akisi and Madusa left for the kitchen, opening the door, they nearly fainted. It was him, Mr. Obare’s corpse was lying down the ground, his buttocks and manhood could not be seen. It seems Layola made tilapia out of them. Madusa could not prevent the inevitable, he vomited seriously, and so did Akisi. It was a hard time for the two couples, but still, Akisi was really pregnant. After several weeks, villagers started questioning the condition of their fellow fisherman, Madusa was very sick. He developed strange skin rashes and he resembled a python. He scared everybody including himself; this situation terrified Akisi. She wept day and night, wishing her parents were alive, maybe she would have asked for help from Gashura, but Chief Anguro and his wife died in action when the war broke out with the chief of Wabiriga.
          After six months of agonizing sadness, Madusa changed, he was not human again, he developed long canines and a tail, his trunk like that of a python, he was terrible. Elders gathered and decided to intervene; they were really determined to help the son of their friend. Abukabi was the eldest in the village; he summoned other elders including Aroko, Akuro, Anjugo and Mr. Osienya the shoemaker. The council of five sat and decreed that Akisi be exterminated before giving birth and her corpse to be offered as a sacrifice to Gulangoro, the chief god and patron of the living whose abode was the peak of Mt. Gula. Now the arrangements for her death were ready, all the elders and a band of fishermen gathered at Madusa’s homestead, Madusa was not told of the plan, he only knew that elders were there to perform some rituals for his sake, but little had he know that elders were determined to sacrifice his wife, he would have scared them away. There came a time when everything was as planned, but Aroko, the man who was appointed to kidnap Akisi was not yet there; so they were waiting. They waited…
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PostSubject: Re: THE HOUSE OF BROKEN HEARTS   Wed Jun 27, 2018 4:26 pm

CHAPTER 8
 
At sixteen hours, Aroko arrived, he was already late. His fellow elders nearly ate him. “What were you doing Mr. Aroko? Alcohol again?” asked Anjugo who was already drank.
---Men, there’s a problem.
---What problem Aroko? Asked Mr. Osienya who was at his mid eighties.
---Layola…
---What? Screamed Abukabi who was one hundred and forty years old; his eyes nearly popped out.
---Yes, Layola is here, I saw her talking to Akisi outside.
---Which outside? Are we inside?
---Yes, we are inside Mr. Abukabi, we are inside, and she is outside talking.
---Mama yangu weee! … We are finished.
---What are we going to do now? Asked Akuro who was trembling like an earthquake, his jaws shaking like a generator. Are we going to die like the other time? Somebody tell me please?
---What are you talking about Mr. Akuro?
---I’m talking about Layola.
---We are already dead as we speak. Abukabi reminded his fellow elders and the band of fishermen who were inside that house.
---Already dead? We are still alive bwana! Aroko was still optimistic.
---Look at you…
---Look at what?
---Look at you now?
---I know how I look like, why looking at my own self again? What, are you seeing a ghost?
---Yes, I am seeing a ghost, a very stubborn ghost who doesn’t like to look at himself.
---If I am a ghost, then perhaps you’re a blind monster. Can’t you see your own ribs, Hahahaaaa! You look handsome Mr. Akuro.
---Oh yes, let me see those ribs you’re talking about… (Mr. Akuro gazed at his own body only to see he has changed into a skeleton) haaa, haaa, what is this? Uuuuuwiiii, Uuuuuwiiii, somebody help me?
          The commotion developed into something very terrible, everyone was running here and there shouting, asking for help. Everyone in that house turned to be a skeleton, they laughed at each other for the first time, but now they were trying to help each other, but they were very funny, they kept on laughing just like during their old days. Some were asking the whereabouts of their flesh. Actually, it was a comedy of some sort.
---Have you seen my buttocks? (Asked Mr. Osienya)
---Not really, perhaps Layola can answer that question, don’t you think so?
---Yeah! I think so Mr. Aroko.
---I can’t understand; but why is everyone a skeleton?
---A skeleton is always there, why are you afraid of your own skeleton? You should be happy to have seen your own internal morphology.
---Really?
---Yes Mr. Osienya. You should be happy.
---Are you also happy Mr. Aroko?
---Happy? Is there anything to be happy about?
---Yes.
---What is it?
---Your skeleton.
---Stupid, what skeleton? Get out of here you scam, skeleton…
          They were confused, Layola took Akisi and they were on their way leaving Ratura, they were heading down the lake. Madusa was nowhere to be seen, it was nothing but chaos and confusion. The council of five sat, other fishermen also demanded to be included in the council. Abukabi welcomed them, now it was the council of skeletons. They decided to find Madusa and his wife. They took hoes, spades, machetes, paddles, stones and woods. Off they went, the council of skeletons, in a quest to find Madusa, in the hunt for Layola, determined to sacrifice Akisi… forward they marched… the council of skeletons.
          About thirty minutes later, they reached the banks of Alawan River, the largest tributary flowing into Mukuwang, the mouth of the great Kamurando that pours its water into Lake Ratura. The council marched, without haste, without rest. Reaching the shores of Lake Ratura, it was already late. Layola and Akisi were already far inwards, water level reaching their necks, the council shouted…
---What are you doing? Asked Anjugo, as if he was not seeing what was happening down there.
---Where are you going? Added Akuro, “Where is Madusa?” hey!
---Hey? Insisted Abukabi; but none of their efforts produced better results.
          Layola and Akisi submerged completely into the deeps of the lake as the skeletons watched. They remained there, with their arms akimbo, standing like electrical poles, as if something glued their feet, and they changed into trees and water weeds. After some minutes, Madusa arrived there, this time he was completely an animal, not a human again. He was like a snake-dog. Half a dog, half a snake; his four limbs like a stallion, barking like a dog, but he was an herbivore. He fed on grasses and leaves.
          Actually, he was a very scary and ugly animal, when he reached there to drink water, he saw the weeds and some trees nearby; he started grazing there and consumed all the green vegetation around. Little had he knows, that the very weed and trees he was eating were exactly the elders and his fellow fishermen, he could have wished to die instead of living in misery like that. After filling his belly, he drank water and left into wilderness. Poor Madusa! That was his destiny. He lived in the wilderness for the rest of his life, and there was no any other fisherman in the village. Melancholy!
---Then what happened grandpa? (Asked Lumbazi who was very cunning)
---That is what happened, Madusa died!
---What killed him?
---Death!
---Death? That is ridiculous, why is death so cruel?
---Grandpa? Grandpa… grandpaaaaaa?
          King Rhombus passed on shortly after telling children what happened to Madusa the fisherman. Another phase of mourning raided the hearts of the little kids. Their first grandpa had just passed on four days earlier, now again King Rhombus, they hated the place. The house where an old man used to live disappeared with the corpse of the king. It rained heavily that night, it was thundering throughout. Children ascended to the pavilion, after seeing what happened to that little house of their grandpa just disappearing into the thin air, they came to the conclusion that, everything was just a dream. So, they waited for the dawn to wake up. All alone in the pavilion, just like the world orphans, they have got no one to call their mother or father. No place to call their home. They sat there and waited, they waited till they both fell asleep.
     They kept on waiting for the morning, but the rising sun was nowhere to be seen. Although the situation weakened their morale, but they waited for the fullness of time; and there came a time when it dawned, they only came to find that they were late for school. Their mother came there to wake them up; actually, they were late for school.
---Hey you little warthogs, look at their buttocks, mosquitoes must have sucked your bitter blood to the maximum, wake up you idiots!
---Wake up, wake up… wake up you Indian cockroaches. (The woman grabbed the bed sheet which smelled like rotten menstrual blood, expired sheep placenta extract, raw shit, hyena’s semen and a donkey’s piss combined.)
---You belong to which kingdom; Monera, Protista or Plantae?
---Don’t wake me up! (Screamed one of the boys)
---Hey you anthropoids, wake up?
---Mom, you’re too much. You talk like a parrot, aren’t you tired?
---Are you not going to school?
---Which school, are we students?
---No, you are teachers. Now get up before I circumcise you with a piece of glass. Don’t you know you’re in the middle of your national examinations?
---We know mom!
---So?
---We are going!
---Which subject are you doing today?
---Biology.
---And what is Biology?
---Is a branch of science which deals with the study of stubborn mothers… hahahaaa! (They laughed at their mother in a joking way)
---Pathetic! You must be out of your mind, or perhaps your mind is out of you, idiots. If you answer that, your worthless lives are doomed. Now get ready edentates. Shame upon you; stupid tamanduas, worthless arachnids, foolish aardvarks, toothless sloths, blind armadillos, sick pangolins… sons of an ape! You must be sick in the head. You are alone, if you don’t struggle for success, your stupidity and laziness will bring no food on the table. You must toil, you must labor, and you must sweat. The world is corrupted, but you must live; and you must live big. Being number one is everything, no second places, no second sucks. You must win! Remember, the world works with three people; the connected ones, the talented ones and the educated ones, you must get the light for the riches of this world are hidden far away from the hands of darkness. Go and get the light my titans!
---Thank you mom!
---You’re welcome!
          They left for the school and their stubborn mother as they thought wished them the best in their examinations. Off they went, with their school bags at their backs, filled with boiled sweet potatoes and a bottle of condensed milk. Just like their dream grandpa, they were always that way; the ways of the grandchildren, sliver by sliver; without haste, without rest.
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