Chapter Three


Here’s the newest chapter continuing the story, the third edition, done by Kudakwashe Mukudu. Thrilling twist to the story.

thee_kuda_2014-04-19_09-30-27Chapter 3

The drive became slow and time seemed to pass ever so slowly. He was stuck in that one moment where her eyes seemed to turn red. His thoughts floating everywhere trying to pin point the reason, to understand why for a single moment she looked like a devil. Who was this person, why are they driving him around? This was not the Rose he knew, not the Rose coveted. What had he been dragged into. She glared at him again, the light bouncing from her eyes gave her an ominous look. He could feel the tension build up every muscle screaming ‘leave’.

It seemed they had arrived at their intended destination as the car slowed down on an empty road that was the only explanation. She signalled…

View original post 310 more words

Leave a comment

Posted by on February 5, 2016 in Uncategorized


The Note

I’d like to believe everyone has a religion. As such, we all stay sincere to what we believe in. For most Christians like me, this includes regular church services. My father always makes it a point that when attending these, we should make it to our place of worship very early. However one Sunday, we couldn’t keep up to this family standard and got to church quite late. For that day, we gained the back benchers’ status, something we’ve been made to believe is not quite a nice thing. I never knew and learnt the hard way. Experience is indeed the best teacher.

My sister and I secured seats close to the window. We sat there, trying so hard to get familiar with this unusual territory. In no time, a fine young man sat right next to us. He was ever smiling and warm. We exchanged glances and smiles with him, waiting for the song service to begin. After the song service, we sat down quietly, anticipating the preacher’s message. All that anticipation was disrupted and battered by someone I never expected.

The fine young man next to us had his no-so-smart phone ringing with never-ending message alerts. I would expect that to be the case, given he was young and a bit handsome, BUT WE WERE IN CHURCH for goodness sake. Our neighbor really didn’t seem to mind the distraction his gadget was giving us. People in front and behind us gave him stares, the warning type but like I mentioned earlier, this dude simply smiled warmly at everyone looking at him. What the hell?? In his mind, nothing was wrong. His cheerful character meant he’d never ignore anyone in his life. This includes those who were bombarding his WhatsApp. He’d reply as fast as he could.

No matter how much you’d like to pay attention to proceedings at a gathering, an irritating-never ending string of message alerts on someone’s mobile phone will distract you. There’s no formula to that. Our dear brother (like we address them at church) kept interacting with his cyber connections, whilst I and other people close by struggled to get the preacher’s message. After about 20minutes, his phone stopped ringing. Phew!

In under 4minutes, horror struck again. You know there are times when you feel like anointing someone’s cheek with a metallic, fire filled generously sized slap. Not because you hate them, but just to sober them up a little. Since this was a church setting, I couldn’t possibly try the slap remedy. I also couldn’t tap his shoulder to start conversation with him. That’d draw eyes on me. So I kept my cool, hoping he’d run out of battery power or data.

This has got to be the longest 40 minutes of my life. I couldn’t pay attention to the preacher, and I also couldn’t get this guy to deal with his phone. During all this, my sister never showed a sign of discomfort or irritation. She seemed to be enjoying the message. That was odd. I was puzzled and kept fidgeting and looking around.

After about an hour, my sister gave me a little note to pass to that brother. Whoa! My little sister was ‘feeling’ this dude. And she couldn’t hide it any longer, so much she had to send him a cute little message on a piece of paper. What on earth was wrong with my blood? In our culture, men should pursue women and not the other way round. I got so angry I wanted to direct my frustration on her, but realized I had to be civil. I was in church after all. I just looked at the nicely folded little note, and played post-woman with a fake smile.

I handed that piece of paper to the lucky guy. I was jealous. My sister hadn’t written me a letter in years and here she was sending one to someone she didn’t even know! What a traitor! The receiver had this amazing glow when I gave it to him. He pointed at himself, trying to verify if the note was his. I nodded. He smiled. I pointed at my sister to let him know where it came from. He waved at her, smiling, without opening the ‘letter’ and she waved back. These two seriously irritated me with this. I was sitting between them. What nonsense!

Then a thought hit me! I must eavesdrop when the guy opens the note. I wanted to see what my smitten sister had sent him.
The guy opened the note, smiling, and froze thereafter. I never got a chance to read what was in it. He folded it and re-opened it, this time allowing me to see the cute message my sister wrote.

I froze too. I looked at my sister then looked at the guy. She looked like she loved the preacher’s words and never paid attention to anyone around her. That’s how she had been since she sat there. I turned my eyes to her ‘sweet heart’. He was still frozen. I tried to hold back tears and laughter. My sister had just become everyone’s hero.

In the little cute note was written, “Hi there. Please mute your message tone.  “


Push on…

There finally. Phew! But it’s nothing like they promised
Plan B comes into play.
Wait !It’s already too late.
Heart is racing
Try the locks to no avail.
Kick the door and windows ’til you lose all strength.
A terrible storm is brewing up outside.
The roof leaks.
Dark clouds blind all light.
Where are the powers that (supposedly) have kept you safe all your life??
The powers that (supposedly) led you to this glorified captivity you are stuck in now??
“Push on child..”
Push on and complete yet again this ‘doom-in-the-end’ cycle of false hope and fake promises??
All you (I) have is a dream of a dream of a dream



Ooh no I did it wrong again, you gave me a second chance but it seems I can never get it right

I can never get anything right…I mess up, you pick me up and dust me to perfection but I keep falling, I keep failing you..

But this time I have fallen, don’t pick me, let me crawl for my dear life…

….let me burn in the shame of the mistakes I have made…

When will I learn, when will I do it right…

I know no one is perfect but my imperfections surpass everyone’s imperfections put together..

You take me in your arms and hold me tightly…you call me your angel but we both know

We both know, I’m no angel….how could I be??

The angel you used to know is gone…buried away and I can’t get her back

When will this all end …going in circles, hurting myself and suicidal thoughts

I can’t live with myself anymore and you don’t have to put up with me but you still do

You say my weakness is your strength but my weakness is what drives me from you

My weakness is what breaks your heart but you still love me

Everyday I cause you pain but you still care

Wish I could go far away so you wouldn’t have to see me like this…

You ask me to trust in you but I turn away

I turn away not because I don’t love you..

I turn away because I am ashamed…

Ashamed of what I have become


Tessa Mahata



Gone, maybe..

I love teddy bears. I found one last year. Man i loved it a little more than the rest of them. That bear inspired me, made me feel warm at night and the thought of my bear got my mind sharper . My bear somehow moulded me. I grew from clingy to stubborn. Instead of always looking at other teddy bears for warmth and closure from my boredom , depression and never ending confusion, this one made me complete. Not that i wasn’t whole before, it just reminded me that i can shine on my own.
I am self centered. I hate sharing. I hate groupies. I loathe noise. I love silence. Silence speaks to my soul.
I dislike silly games that’s why i stuck with my teddy always.
Time passed, the world kept rotating and seasons shifted. My teddy bear grew a little cold, old and boring. I thought twas just my confusion. I had doubts. Confusion mixed with doubt is a bad prescription for an unsettled spirit.
One day i took a really closer look at my teddy bear. I looked again and again. I got angry! Was i seeing right?? Was i dreaming?? Was this all a prank and it’d get explained to me later? Why?? My heart sank, my knees went weak and my eyes closed. Why??
My teddy bear wasnt really mine. It belonged to someone else. I got to understand i had been a keeper of someone’s property. But how? I knew twas mine and events made me believe so too. How again was it not mine?
I hadnt noticed that when i got this teddy bear, it had a mark that showed it already was someone’s. For all this while, i never noticed, until i was too used to it and too attached.
You see when you love something so much and it grows on you, your worst fear is to wake up one day and find it missing, either stolen or reclaimed by its owner. Well this was me, shocked, angry, weak and confused, realising i had been sold dreams. I am self centered and i hate sharing. I am also not mean. What doesn’t belong to me doesn’t feel right , no matter how much it makes me happy , smile and feel safe and warm. The mark meant i had to surrender ‘my’ teddy bear, the bear i learnt to love and appreciate. ‘My’ teddy bear wasn’t mine.


No small talk for me, please

I am horrible with small talk. I hate it ! I hate being asked “How are you?” a million times a day. Those pointless, typical kind of questions that receive generic responses irritate me. It may sound silly to some but that’s just who I am. I dread going through that more than once a day so I tend to ignore such talk/messages.
It’s amazing (and depressing) how people get so obsessed with this habit that they almost completely become ‘unable’ to have different kinds of conversations with others other than the “Hi. How are you? How’s everything” type. Nothing wrong with that but having to endure such talk, with the same person, all the time is quite unbearable for me.
Rather tell me what you’re thinking about. Tell me your most intimate thoughts. Share a story. That way you can trigger my mind to ride on a different thought wave. Enlightenment comes about when you don’t follow the same trend/routine/method, be it in conversations, adventure or solving problems.
Amuse me. Hit me with a fact I might have missed. Teach me new methods of doing things in a conversation. But don’t attempt to engage me in small talk. It bores me. Ever wondered why some conversations with me end abruptly..?? SMALL TALK


My Monday morning ‘situation’

In a killer dress, heels and a matching handbag, I walked as if I own half the world towards the ‘bus stop’. Before I got there, a kombi (mini bus) stopped about 20metres away from me and I continued gliding towards it. Everyone in the kombi stared at me. As I took my seat, I blessed everyone’s nostrils with my mom’s very expensive perfume which I had borrowed(well I actually stole it) and sure kept their attention. That long weave to compliment my almost yellow-bone skin tone completed my super ‘hottt’ look. Boy, I felt good. 🙂
As in every kombi, time to pay our fares came. Did I mention I sat next to a guy in a sharp suit and well, he offered to pay for me and I politely declined his offer. I regret it now!!!
I proceeded to open my handbag. When I ran halfway through my zip, a large brown ‘baller’ COCKROACH (bete rema bhachi in Shona) jumped out of my handbag!!!!  I FROZE. The cockroach leaped onto that guy next to me and made its way in and out of his jacket.
Dude screamed.
Yours truly was still  frozen.
After about 10seconds ‘my cockroach’ went under our seat and disappeared. There was dead silence.
Good people, a 9minute ride seemed like forever. I just froze. The ‘hwindi'(conductor) didn’t ask for my fare and I silently told Jesus I needed the strength to run when I drop off the kombi……the rest is history