They built thick walls around their empire to safeguard their legacy. They used the breath of their enemies and anyone they deemed insignificant to lay its foundation; their bodies as blocks to hold it up, their blood as cement to keep it steady, their fear to keep it standing through the storms, and their vanity to make it a national treasure. They called it the Imperial Legacy. But what if the enemy was gnawing at the walls from within, one brick at a time?
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
“Innocence once lost cannot be regained. Darkness, once gazed upon, can never be lost.” –
John Milton.
Lusaka, Zambia; 2004
Trinah was thirteen years old when she moved to Lusaka. In more ways than one, she was like cinderella, but without the horse and the prince. Just like Bina Mwanza had said, the new family welcomed her with open arms and treated her like she was one of their own. Her new guardians instructed her to address them as Uncle Venon and Aunt Cathy. Their children, eighteen-year-old Mark, fifteen-year-old Chiza, and three-month-old Isaiah became her cousins.
On the first Sunday since her arrival, Trinah was paraded in front of a fully-packed United in Christ Assemblies Church to give testimony about how blessed she was to have been adopted by the pastor’s family. The reverence bestowed on the Chaile family could only rival that reserved for the gods.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
“Sometimes we are tested. Not to show our weaknesses, but to discover our strengths.”
Unknown
***
Kaleya, Mazabuka, Zambia; 2001 – 2004
Ten-year-old Trinah bolted up, awakened by the thunderous sound of the pouring rain that had, as usual, easily found its way through the unsuccessfully multi-surgically-enhanced roof of their one-room cottage. Sleeping next to her on the mat was her little brother, Enock. At five years old, the little monkey had somehow mastered the art of snoring like a drunken sailor. They say that if you live with pig’s vomit long enough, eventually, you stop smelling it. It was the case with little Enock’s snoring. Trinah was responsible for the boy’s nickname – ‘little monkey’ which she thought was quite fitting given his unusual obsession with bananas.
Lying on the other side of Enock was Petronella, their mother, her state of rest unwittingly bearing witness to the idiom about pig’s vomit. The peacefully sleeping woman looked nothing like a twenty-five old should. Trinah reached over to her and gently removed the silk headwrap that had moved halfway through her thinning pale hair. The years of toil she had experienced after becoming pregnant at the age of fifteen had surely taken their toll on her. It was a wonder how she was not the one prone to aggressive snoring. Perhaps she had transferred the stress onto her son during pregnancy when yet again, a man had disappointed her.
Against my will this morning, I came across a post that was shared by a certain Man of God, and in that post, he was reposting something that had been shared by a Reverend I consider to be quite misogynistic, even though he insists otherwise. I’m a Liberal, so it’s normal for me to find some of the things that Conservatives champion to be quite distasteful. But to each their own, because you know…Liberal. Here’s a screenshot showing part of that post:
That is just part of the post. Feel free to view the rest of the post on his page where he tries desperately to justify his points. Perhaps I should mention that I agreed with some of the sentiments. I just didn’t seem to agree with the basis upon which the sentiments were based! For instance, I agree that the boy child tends to be left out in some of the discourse about female empowerment. And when the man is included in such discourse, it is mostly to play the role of a villain rather than an ally. I myself have villainized men in many of my posts and comments on social media. But, I can explain.
anishagold 