15 years ago
Blantyre City
4:20 pm
...
"We've arrived!"
A taxi man informed teen Zabi and his father, seated curiously on the back seat, windows opened to the fullest so they could see the city in its highest glory.
Skyscraper's dominated the skies, alot of people dominated the streets.
Zabi's dad looked normal, hair perfectly combed, body muscular. He looked talkative too — completely opposite to what he looked like in the present.
Earlier, after arriving at the airport from Africa with an address of the house they rented in hand, they called for the grumpy taxi man.
"Can you drop us at this address, and if you don't mind, tell us when we arrive!" Zabi's father said neatly, respectful too, his face filling the window that the driver opened to talk to his customers.
The raw enthusiasm of an African accent full in his mouth.
A piece of cake for the taxi man to instantly know they were foreigners.
It was their first time in America, a "COUNTRY WHERE ALL DREAMS COME TRUE," they said.
Maybe a ploy for the founders to make their country superior to the others.
Its news spread throughout the world, becoming a destination for many.
And when Zabi, the smartest child in the country, got a scholarship to study at Keyfox University, it came as a very large surprise to them — light in the darkness of the poor, corrupt country they lived in.
All the villagers celebrated so much as if it was their child who had done something no one had ever done in their village before — dancing, eating until their hearts content.
After a few hours,
the adrenaline settled. That's when their doubts came. Zabi's dad was a mere builder back in Africa, a job that had little to no proper pay.
Their financial status couldn't accommodate food and other expenses in another country.
A vital sacrifice had to be made, and at the end of five sleepless nights he formed the perfect plan.
He follows his son to obodoyibo (abroad), becomes his workforce while Zabi goes to school.
A perfect idea that had many physical and psychological benefits — an exception the school understood was vital, especially because of the smart child involved, who had everyone becoming a fortune-teller, speaking proudly about the bright future ahead of him.
Pha!
"Thank you very much, may God bless you sir!"
He gave him his pay.
They had finished pulling off all their equipment; it was little but a nice starter pack.
A mat, clothes and pots — all a person needs to survive.
Eyes darted to them all over the street in curiosity; some whispered, some pointed. It was not a common occurrence — two black men from Africa had just arrived. By what they carried and how they looked, they seemed poor too.
It impressed some and irritated a lot.
Unlike his father, Zabi saw it all — the judging, oppressing eyes that drew to them, a spiteful anger brewing in his heart.
...
"That's all of it, Dad!"
Zabi said, carrying the last box into the single-room apartment they rented. Rats and cockroaches swirling around freely, unbothered by the newly arrived owners.
"Good job, son. Let's take a rest first, then we go buy dinner. I just hope we don't find them selling dead snakes!"
He mockingly uttered, laying on the mat that was their new bed.
"Hahaha!" Zabi laughed, his cheeks brightened.
"It's not here, Dad. That's another country. There are people here who are actually afraid of snakes!" he added, a laughing tone still clinging to his words.
"Really? That is a relief!"
He added, as a rat walked in front of them, stopped, looked at them — exchanging glances for some seconds — and walked on stress-free.
"Ooh, they are also afraid of rats!"
Zabi's dad looked at Zabi sarcastically, but in a laughable way.
"Rats?"
"They freak them out!"
"Hahahaha!"
He started laughing uncontrollably, little tears of joy forming in his eyes. Zabi smiled too as he looked at his father, who hadn't laughed or smiled in days. Now that they arrived and he got relief, it was a good chance for him to blow some steam.
"Well then!" He stood up, changed his tone to some kind of motivational speaker. "I guess it's time we show the rats in this house what we do to rats in Africa!" He ordered like a commander in some kind of war.
He reached into his bag, then carried five notes of money.
"After you finish resting, put water on the cooker. I want to bath when I come!"
He told Zabi as he fixed his attire, looking at a damaged mirror on the wall.
"I'm going to buy us some food and ropes to make our own rat traps!" he added.
Zabi remembered the judging eyes that looked at them when they arrived.
"Should I go with him?" he thought deeply. But then he remembered something else.
Even if someone tried to steal or beat him, the thugs would just get beaten up in return.
"There is no frightening thing more than a man who has seen the worse parts of life."
He remembered — a quote his deceased mother used to tell him whenever he felt worried that his father was going to work himself to death.
"Dad!! Walk safe!"
His father smiled in return, a mutual respect they shared.
"Don't worry, son!"
He went to the door, and when he reached for the doorknob…
He froze in one place like a statue, his hand still on the doorknob, unshaken by anything else.
Unknowing, Zabi reached for a book in his bag — a comic he was given as a parting gift from his friends at school.
He opened a page in the middle to start from where he left off on the plane. Luckily he saw his father still frozen at the door.
"I thought he had already gone out!" he wondered.
"And why is he standing… like… that?"
His instincts went off the charts. He knew something was wrong,he rushed to his father.
"Dad!" he called curiously, his heart jumping up and down, the sound echoing out of his chest.
"Dad!"
He walked even closer only to find his father's head shaking vigorously, sweat covering his skin like he had done a load of work.
Zabi's eyes enlarged, hands trembling, a repetitive ringing shutting down every sound in his ears. He knew he had to do something, but he had seen something he had never seen before in his life — the look of a dying man. Even if he tried to help, he wouldn't know where to start.
Then—
His father fell to the ground. His body joined in on the fray; he started shaking uncontrollably as tears started to pour out of Zabi's eyes.
The smart kid wasn't smart anymore.