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Previous Chronicle - Zag arrives at the Nishina Institution and learns about the 12 Immutable Virtues
He made his way from one end of the long street to the other, hoping to make it home by dusk. Zag was never allowed to go and play at his friend’s house alone, he was too young. He always had to go with Mukalo or someone older like his cousin Nedi. But this time he was alone. He could see the reflection of his feet in the mirror to his left. For some reason, he never looked to his right. Underneath him, the ground he was walking on was dry, but the feet in the mirror were stepping in puddles of water that made splashing noises to announce every step.
As long as he kept moving he could see the reflection of his feet: His Barefoot, crinkle-toed, young-nails-mangled-from-kicking-too-many-stones feet. His finely-balanced tree-climbing, fast-running feet. He inherited them from his grandfather and his great grandfather before him. They were hunters. He couldn’t be a hunter. He was too young.
When he stopped to examine the mirror more closely it disappeared. If he stood up and started walking again, it reappeared. As long as he looked straight ahead and only allowed his peripheral vision to be aware of the reflection, the mirror was lively. It seemed like the water was more animated, splashing higher with every step, changing colors, dancing in the air with swirls of green, purple, and orange.
If he turned his head to look, there was nothing there. Just the same dirt brown mud houses he’d become accustomed to seeing everywhere in Namanga.
And Mother. Mother was at every house he walked by, sitting on a large mat pounding yam with a wooden mortar and pestle - or “winko” as Mother used to call it. Her favorite food-making utensils. At every house, she had her yam bag next to her with the sisal string, like she always did when she used “winko”.
Neither of them thought to talk to each other. Zag was waiting to know which one of the mothers was the real one. They were all dressed the same: black headdress - unusual for a regular day of pounding yam. Black was for funerals. She had a bright green chitenge wrap around her waist with pictures of the local councilor. This was more usual for a regular day.
Mother never wears this chitenge for special occasions so today much be a regular day, Zag thought.
And now he was in the middle of the street.
Look forward. Watered colorful feet.
Look sideways. Mother.
Forward. feet.
Sideways. Mother.
Feet. Mother.
Feet. Mother.
Feet…
Then he looked backward. Following him were thousands of boys all barefoot, dressed in white, faces expressionless except for a sixth sense that if he stopped in his tracks, they wouldn’t. They would either walk right through him, or over him, all 1000 of them.
He stepped up his pace. They did too.
The mirror and its water disappeared. His mother was still at every house pounding yam and the army of boys dressed in white were keeping pace with him.
He decided he would run.
He looked back and now the boys were dressed in black, their eyeballs were changing colors purple, green, and orange - like the water before. He looked to his left and the mothers were no longer there.
I miss my mother. He said out loud for the first time since he’d been taken away.
He kept running.
The street had disappeared. He was now in an open field. His shoulders felt cold. He looked down. He was no longer barefoot. He had his shoes on. The same shoes he wore to visit Mukalo’s school.
Today must be a special occasion because I never get to wear these shoes if it’s not, he thought.
The shoes seemed to help him to run faster and create some distance between him and the boy army. He looked back and saw 1000 eyeballs with flashing colors. Green, purple, orange, increasing in intensity as if broadcasting their intention to catch up with him.
Sqwaaaaaakkk!!
A noise from straight above him startled him and he looked up.
Jump! The voice shouted. Use your shoes to jump!
It was Koah-Koah, the Oracle. Zag was glad to see him. Looking up to see who it was had slowed him down enough that the boy army was now close enough for Zag to almost feel their collective body heat as they ran, robot-like towards him. He was not sure what they would do if they got to him.
He decided to jump.
He had seen his brother do this when he threw the spear. You take a few big steps forward. Mukalo said this gave you “mamentam” - whatever that was. And then on the next step you put both feet together and you sprang up as high as you can.
Zag executed what he could remember of Mukalo’s jump routine and was surprised that it worked perfectly without him trying too hard. The next thing he knew, he was flying alongside Koah-Koah and being made fun of.
I see you’ve been learning from your brother, huh? You don’t need to do all that singing and dancing here. You just think it and it’s done.
Koah-Koah chuckled. Zag didn’t find it funny.
Zag looked down and the army of boys had disappeared. It was as if nothing had happened.
Ok. he said, I’m glad you came. I have lots of questions for you.
Fire away young sir, said Koah-Koah.
Mr Nko seems a nice man, and he told me that this must be done for everybody’s good. What is this thing that must be done that he’s talking about? said Zag
Koah-Koah smiled.
Ok. Question noted. He said. Next question?
You told me that I would meet someone I can trust. Have I met them yet? Zag asked.
Yes you have, said Koah Koah.
Who? asked Zag
Well, you don’t pull no punches, do you, young sir? Koah-Koah said, laughing.
Zag was unmoved. He just wanted the answer.
Ok. Be like that, said Koah Koah. You need to lighten up a little. It’s Yamika.
Yamika - the boy Mr Ndambo said would take care of me? asked Zag. Is he the only person I can trust?
Yes. said Koah Koah
What about Mr Nko? He seems nice. said Zag
No. A firm no! said Koah Koah
Ok. said Zag
You didn’t answer my other question, said Zag
What?? shouted Koah Koah.
The wind was strong and they were starting to have trouble hearing each other.
Zag felt a jolt in his flying, like a speedbump but in the air. He steadied himself and looked down. The boy army had reappeared, but this time they were all dressed in red soccer shirts and were chanting. He couldn’t make out what words they were saying, but the chanting was getting louder and louder until he could hardly hear Koah Koah.
Remember, shouted Koah Koah. Only Yamika! Or at least that’s what Zag thought he heard.
Zag started falling towards the red chanting army. Their chanting was getting louder and louder. They seemed to not notice him at all, as he careered from the sky through layers of sky clouds and dust clouds. He was now so close that he was sure he would hit into one of them at any moment.
He opened his eyes. He must have fallen asleep.
He was lying on a bed in a small room with two beds in it. He was alone. The other bed was neatly made. Metal frame, white bedsheet, thick grey blanket, one recently laundered pillow, and a thick book on the floor next to the bed that looked like the owner read it every day. The walls were painted a plain blue. They didn’t go all the way up to the ceiling. The roof was made of corrugated iron. It looked like he was in a big warehouse-like structure and this was one of the partitions. There were two small lockers on the left wall. Both had a circular emblem etched on them - the same emblem that was on Mr. Ndambo’s shield and on his ankle. The two lockers were both secured with small padlocks.
It was very noisy. Lots of shouting and hollering like there was a soccer match or a dance festival going on outside.
Zag looked out the small window behind his bed and then he saw it. Two soccer teams, one in red and one in blue, were battling it out on a gravel pitch and generating a lot of noise. And dust. Everyone apart from the players was standing on the edges of the pitch - almost encroaching on the play as they groaned, cheered, and pointed with every play. Some were playing drums and singing throughout. It seemed they were not paying attention to the match at all. Zag did not like soccer that much but he enjoyed watching the people. He spotted Yamika. He wasn’t playing but had a blue jersey on, like the blue team. He seemed to be more animated than the rest of the spectators. He was gesturing, pointing, and flailing his hands all the time - as if shouting instructions to the blue team. Once, when one of the blue team players didn’t pass the ball, Yamika fell to his knees as if struck by a stone.
Yamika likes soccer, and I can trust him. Zag made a mental note.