User talk:Kswag101

The future Rhodesian

Prologue

The deep, thick , nauseous smell of death lingered in the house .Her scent had vanished, her smile and her grace was evanescent .that motionless, debilitated body was a testament to the highest level of enfeeblement .The sound of cracking bones was almost like music to him every day he woke up ,that morning the light shone like blades at his face .Mbonisi could sense that something was wrong as the dead silence was almost deafening.his heartbeat was erratic and hypnotic, like a group of drummers in sync it thumped , and thumped .his breath became deeper and slower .the air felt cold and the withered concrete icy. He averted his eyes from the Sunrays and set off to enquire..the absence of electricity was the first blow .his hands were still fixated on the switch when realisation and his wits dawned on him .Mother .“mother" he bellowed ,he knocked wildly at the door but it was all in futility.his heart sequentially threatened to leap out of his body as dread and grief struck him ..his baggy eyes were overwhelmed with tears and his could not help but cry ..

The rings on his eyes told a story that only a Ndebele boy from Luveve could know ..orphaned at six his mother had assumed both parental roles for 5 years and it had taken a toll on him .the smell of shit was overwhelmingly dominant over the foulness of the corpse .his mother was diagnosed with a flesh eating disorder, gangrene and cholera.mbonisi had to deal with bucketloads of stool everyday .the colour of her shit had been progressively changing, it had started out firm and brown , changing to soft and smooth, watery black then for the last week his mother had been shitting coloured water .He had seen hell at first hand and the hand was cold .the last he remembered from that day was the sight of his do good neighbours breaking the front door and swarming over him as he faded out of consciousness Linda The slap to her face had made her face red ,"I'll strangle you and your cunt wife, hells' rivers coarse in my veins .touch me again and I'll end you " she failed to say as her father galavanted in senile way as she only managed to master a smug look. "Better go to your room, before I tell him to come back and wipe that smug of your polka dot face" bellowed Ashley her young attractive step mother who was particularly short for her age .A sudden rush of emotions overwhelmed her and streams fell and came crushing on her cheeks the Victoria falls, she was never confident about her looks but she had her pride .her heart was heavy , stained and in the right place

Her father had divorced her mother when she was six, growing up in big mansion in Bulawayo as a white girl had taken its toll on her 16 year old body.

ASHLEY MBONISI NDLOVU

ᾺἈΞ≥≠≈′Kswag101 (talk) 14:36, 17 April 2016 (UTC)

Mbonisi

The procession was slow, the smell of tar and nicotine had succumbed to the foul smell of the alcoholics inside the tent .Mbonisi was no stranger to grief and pain but the sight of the red cloth hanging from the gate sent a chill up his spine that only lashing could cure .there was no lashing and he wouldn't have wanted one .His uncle sat next to him , pot bellied with a magnificent beard , a feeble extension of his accredited ego .the air was thick with a impressive concoction of aromas , foul smells and dusk which made a blend of a really nasty experience .the lawn had been decimated and the ground was littered and infested with humans that it was surprisingly impossible as to how everyone in that small enclosure was in any way related to his Mother ..it was a sobering experience that only a funeral could offer .church members , “friends" , neighbours and a few relatives had attended yet the majority were strangers .it was a hard time and any opportunity to get free food was all anyone would had needed to stir .it was the year of unity they said the year 2008 ,all it had united was the people of Zimbabwe with hunger and desperation .The body viewing was quick , the prayers quicker .all were eager for the main event , the food .the potatoe stew was thick and the cabbage was raw ,the mealie meal or “isitshwala" had bulges of coarse granules so large that I'd think a plate was a volcano island.

After he watched his mother descend in the family casket, they called it that because that was what It was. After every burial the casket was exhumed by the family to be reused by another family member when death would have knocked on their door ..it was cost efficient and they had to paint it every time to change its appearance .he watched the wretched old thing sink .its hood shimmering in the scouring light revealing a tincture of layered paints .Sometimes he would swear that his watch was made out of concrete not only because it was heavy and his muscles were a fantasy but because the times were hard.The very fabric of human nature was tested that day, increments in voices were noted as soon as the first shovel went over his mother's shallow grave .a feud broke out over the matter of inheritance ,it was glorious .the sight of pure anger and desperation had torn humanity into a different level .His father's brother in wroth set the house ablaze while the others disputed .Mbonisi felt a calamity of implosive feelings hate flared , love died , confusion clouded him and his heart throbbed.the enormity of the inferno quickly grabbed people's attention and it became a spectacle like no other .He watched helplessly as the blaze consumed all that he ,all he loved and all that he had .greed and avarice had finally overwhelmed reason and humanity .his tears well null as the heat of the inferno insidiously started to boil his wits and blood .Th air around was bitter as shit from a mountain goat , every gasp took am essence of his humanity .A thought lingered , distant in his state of mind .aA better world , euphoric, a place of endless possibilities and out comes .Grief , pain ,anger and blood lust held by his manhood. The sight of his distant cousin was a needed wake up call from his abyss.

A week had passed from that tragic day as he lay in alley in the streets of the city of kings Bulawayo, he lay there motionless reminiscing on a time not long ago, a time when reason and compassion weren't a fantasy .the streets were silent , his dirty fingers numb and the moment became a deja vu. It was only that this time he had nothing to lose, nothing to love and no one .The struggle is real he thought and he had learnt the hard way .life had taken its penis and shoved it in his mouth .The soft current of the southern air swept like a dagger across his face as he could feel his heart beat slow like the drums of war in ancient times , that sweet rhythmic vibe was like music to him and it was soothing to him. His heartbeat was all he trusted, if he lost It he had nothing else to loose .His bloodstained rags told a story so edifying to his apparent