Chapter IV

 

Two months had passed since she delivered a baby boy in the bush. She grieved in silence hiding everything from everyone around her. Life continued as usual and her father was in high spirit. The family ties were still strong with Ima doing all the chores as per custom. She chose to move on and forget the past including the boy who made her pregnant. It was a mistake she resolved to correct and never to repeat in future. The young villager decided to restructure her life and pursue that which would eventually uplift the living standards of her family.

None of her brothers and sister had the capability of improving their financial status. They all seemed engrossed with the village life and never wanted to aspire for better things. The pregnancy period up until delivery changed her mindset. It brought painful realities to the young girl and seemed to inject her with a different drug. The drug which at first was painful eventually ignited a ray of hope. She lamented the opportunity she lost in school. She could have been far ahead of the poverty her and the family were going through in the village.

The young girl was weeding the maize field with her father while the two boys had already gone out to drink local beer at the Junction bar. Despite, several beatings from their father, the boys still chose to lead a rebellious life. They did not care for their father and the two sisters.

‘Mr. Mambo visited me a week ago,’ Ima’s father said without stopping. ‘He brought his son with him.’ ‘Oh how is he…it’s been a while since I last saw Mr. Mambo. He came with Chilu?’ she asked.

‘No he came with his first born son asking for you’ he replied nonchalantly.

‘They wanted me for what father? Frank has been bothering me a lot of late…’

‘That’s the reason why they came to see me – most likely they wanted to ask for your hand in marriage.’

‘They better be kidding father. I hope you showed them my birth record.’

‘I did not my daughter – they proposed a number of good things which may be good for us as a family. They are willing to give us a number of cows, goats and sheep including vast farming land along Chongwe river. I’m sure your mother would have liked the idea of us having cows for the first time since corridor disease wiped our animals fifteen years ago.’ The old man said standing straight looking at her dearest child. A gesture he hoped would send a strong wish to her and influence her decision.

‘I know how much we need the animals dad. I understand the pain you are going through. The ridicule we are going through as a family. We have always been the ones begging for relief food.’

‘Is that a yes my daughter?’ he asked beaming with excitement. He did not know the best way to tell his daughter. Since the demise of his wife, her daughter was all he had. She was different from the rest of his children. She was a gemstone that beautified his life with refreshed vigor of hope and comfort. He counted himself lucky when his late wife accepted to take care of the daughter he came with from town. His wife took baby Ima as her own child and gave her the love as the rest of her real children. Ima grew up knowing that she was the biological daughter to her late mother.

Mr. Mwanza least expected her daughter to leave his home for marriage. Day in day out he fought the thought of his daughter giving her hand in marriage to any other village boy until Mr. Mambo a local business and farming tycoon visited him.

His offer was too sweet to be turned down. It was the only thing he could allow his child to leave his impoverished home for. The Mambos were a respected and feared family in Chongwe whose influence was beyond the borders of the chiefdom. Since the day they visited, the poor man struggled with the thought of letting go of Ima. He could not see himself manage living with rebellious sons without the helping hand of his daughter. He however, imagined himself having the animals and the land for farming in exchange. He comforted himself that his daughter would always be his even though she got married and so he could let go and retrieve his lost glory.

‘What’s your opinion father?’ The girl asked not sure what her father wanted at the same time not wanting to offend him. ‘I accept the hand in marriage or what?’ she continued. Ima did not want to offend her father, and so she needed to be very careful. Down her heart marriage wasn’t anywhere near her plans. She craved for better things in life than settling down as a housewife to some son of the famous and boastful farmer in the village. Frank was her senior at the local Primary school who later dumped college life at Natural Resources Development College for the luxurious life of his family.

‘I follow what you want my dear,’ her dad answered unconvincingly. ‘How about if I turn it down?’ she asked looking at her father’s expression. ‘Then we are doomed in this abyss of poverty my daughter.’

‘Meaning?’ she asked again wishing for him to read her mind. ‘Meaning you are the key and us we just follow through.’

‘What if I go look for work in town and buy you whatever you want father?’ she asked almost apologetically. ‘I can work very hard for you and the rest of the family. We can have the animals and buy the land,’ she continued.

‘I have no doubts about your capabilities my daughter. I have faith in you I hope you know that. So whatever you decide I will just follow.’

‘Father look there!’ she interjected pointing at a Land Rover parked along the road hundred meters from where they were weeding.

‘That should be Mr. Mambo’s car.’ It was a statement.

He quickly put the hoe down and dashed towards the car leaving the young girl weeding behind. He had no idea what brought such a respected figure in society to a peasant farmer like him again. The only time the two agreed to meet was only when he talked to the girl. Before that he didn’t know the agenda and so eagerly he went to meet him.

‘Good morning Mr. Mwanza!’ greeted Mr. Mambo. ‘Good morning Sir and how are you and the family?’

‘I passed through your home and was told by your daughter that you came to the fields.’

‘It’s fine sir… you can find me anywhere. It’s just that we decided to attack the weeds before they attack our maize this morning.’

‘Our issue Mr. Mwanza…it’s been a week now!’ ‘Oh yeah I know It’s just that my daughter has been busy, she has not yet replied back to me,’ he lied. ‘You mean she needs time to think about my son’s offer?’ he asked in a braggadocio tone. ‘Does she know what she wants?’ continued Mr. Mambo.

‘I’m sure she does Sir……it’s just that the request may have come at a short notice. You know these young children... they need time to understand some of these issues.’ Mr. Mwanza labored to explain knowing too well that her daughter was not willing to marry Mr. Mambo’s son. ‘I broke the good news to my child last night and so she asked me to give her time.’

‘Last night? But we talked about this seven days ago Mr. Mwanza?’ The tone was high and Mr. Mwanza feared his daughter could hear. ‘Let me give her some time I will definitely come back to you sir.’

‘Mind you every offer has deadlines…. so is this one. Four days from today or else I will take the offer to another lucky girl. You know my son is the heir to my thrown and you know what that means to you and your family.’ He said and jumped back on the driver’s seat and sped off.

Mr. Mwanza stood helplessly looking at the car disappear through thickets. His mouth was dry and brain thoughtless. He hated the pomposity of rich people at the same time he required a part of their wealth. His daughter’s words were clear and he could not force her to get married even though the suitor was rich and probably on demand to most girls in the village. Her daughter was in fact not for sell. He resolved to respect her wish and allow her to go and look for work in town as she suggested. Even that she was to be convinced by herself alone without him exerting any undue influence on her. He knew she was a very smart and hardworking girl who would not fail to achieve her objectives.

 

***

 

She stood by the station holding a tiny bag on her shoulder since she had nothing much to carry along. A decision was made and her father blessed the young girl. He understood though he wanted her to continue living with him. Evidently, Ima did not belong to the village as her father did. He allowed her to explore town life and probably grab one or two opportunities that may come her way. He was a strong believer in her abilities. Ima was to go straight to Kalikiliki and squat with her cousin who left the village three years ago almost in similar circumstances.

She stood along the dusty road waiting for the only van in the area which tripped to Chongwe town and back every day once. The van had no specific time though it always passed before noon. Ima vividly remembered how humiliated her father was when Mr. Mambo boasted about his son and made him feel that they had no option but to just say yes to their marriage demands. It was as if her marrying Frank was doing Ima’s family a great favor. The same Frank who had been bothering her at most of the times asking her out. His father made it look as if all girls were dying for him. If that was true, but not herself. She looked beyond the material things his family boasted about. Her motivation was not found anywhere in the village. She imagined a better and cozier life full of unquenched lifestyle.

She took time assuring the old man that it was all not hopeless and lost. Her failing grade seven exams was not the end of the world. There were many more avenues for her to succeed in life.

She had pleaded with the old man to allow her visit the capital city and seize some opportunities to her advantage and probably with his blessings they would be able to have all what the Mambos were promising them. Lessons were learnt and the best thing she did to herself was to accept her mistakes. She swore to herself to be loyal first to her father then to herself. She promised him that his words would always be in her head everywhere she went and that she would remain constantly in touch with the family using any means available.

After two hours of waiting, she saw a cloud of dust hovering on the eastern side. Every waiting passenger stood up and moved closer to the road. The van was their only hope of going into town. She confirmed her only money she tied on the wrapper she wrapped around herself. She could not stand losing the only money she raised from the sale of the two chickens. Ima pushed herself closer with the other passengers and quickly jumped behind the wreck of the van belonging to Mr. Mambo. Since they were the only family with the car and so enjoyed the monopoly of business around the area. She peeped at the passenger’s seat and saw Frank seated with his kid sister in between himself and their driver.

The journey was rough and bumpy, but Ima’s determination was stronger. She sat though uncomfortable at the corner of the trailer doing all she could not to be seen by the man who thought could use his wealth to force her into marriage. He was lucky to have been born with a silver spoon in his mouth. To the contrary her story was different and therefore, she wanted her children as well to have the same spoon in their mouths. Ima resolved to rewrite history so that one day she would recount the hardships she went through.

After sixty minutes of the most uncomfortable ride, the van pulled to a halt five hundred meters away from the station. It was their custom to off-load people from there for fear of the police since their van was not road worthy and had no valid road certificates.

One by one, Frank collected money from passengers. Ima stood on the queue with her fifty kwacha note in her hand. She wondered what Frank would say when it was her turn. Ima did not view herself antagonistic to him since his father had already asked for someone else’s hand to marry his son.

‘I didn’t see you at my wedding,’ Frank said when it was Ima’s turn. ‘I guess it’s because you didn’t invite me…...if you did I could have come,’ she said handing him the money. ‘Are you sure you want to pay?’ he asked going to the next passenger.

‘It’s business Frank……you will be short of cashing,’ she reasoned. ‘I cash to myself, you don’t know that Ima?’ he asked boastfully.

‘If you insist ……anyway thanks a lot,’ Ima said and joined the other passengers walking to the main bus’s station to Lusaka. She was excited leaving village life to the territory she was not even sure of just because of people like Frank and his father who thought they were kings and princes. The idea of buying her father the very things the two wanted to use as a weapon for her family strengthened her will and energized her to do beyond the ordinary. The abject poverty made her indomitable.