BROKEN HEARTS

CHAPTER ONE
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Some eyes were projected on that serene star of Kararu Primary School. The
youngest of the lower classes busied with a variety of games. The boys
entertained themselves, running behind a ball made in banana leaves. The
talented ones crossed and struggled wrestling to tiptoe the ball imitating the
leading striker at Kararu. The playing ground echoed and re-echoed to the
sounds from the pupils.

Where he stood, he watched them calmly, his mind apparently being fascinated
by their performances. Down the playing ground, the soil was shaved of grasses.
There hadn’t been any rain for months. The earth was bare and dry. It seemed
there had never been a blade of grass growing anywhere before. That was the
pitch for small shabby children. You might find a group of other children toddling
and kicking one another. It was their knack to count scores after striking their
marbles against each other. Small girls on the side opposite the path were
jumping every here and there shouting Mabigibigi.

To be in P6 was a prestige. The P6 pupils stood in groups of three or four and

discussed warmly about the stars and their courses. The maids, where they sat
under a huge umunyinya tree chuckled. Heightened by the lull of their age, they
pointed at him making some unheard remarks.

He used to stand near the ring. You could imagine that he was dumb. Adama’s
state of being had made some few skirts in his classroom concerned. In break
time, they exchanged murmurs, their eyes wide open and took furtive glances at
him as if they suspected him of a patient, a philosopher or coach tackling his
tactics during a fierce football match.

In the classroom, the atmosphere was stressful when the teacher of English
divided them into groups. Nearly, the girls pushed one another scrambling to be
counted in his group. His seatmate surrendered his seat and watched the on-
going preaching of knowledge as an onlooker. That day, a few of the girls who
felt mature provoked him putting their sharp breasts on his shoulders as they
leant over him. Though a nuisance, he stayed indifferent. He neutralized his erect
tool by clinging to the exercise. Satisfied with his performance, they would go
back to their desks, either of them patting lightly on his shoulders, a
manifestation of burning affection or others would reluctantly go.

The talkative girl who sat two desks behind him never ceased to arouse his
attention. Tina would fold a piece of a paper and throw it on his back. Turning
round in anger; he would be cool with a blink of eyes and her quizzical smiles.
What was surprising was the drawing of a red heart and the word” Beau girl” on
that paper.

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Beau girl was the then current word. It referred to those attractive boys who
appeared candidates for the fashion shows and who made girls’ hearts throb. It
was spread among peers at Kararu primary school.

Tina might have made Adama a changed guy. She might remove him out of the
state of loneliness and turn him into her idol darling. Her plan was impeded by
her moving to Kigali unexpectedly mid May 1995.

The school which was found on plateau could become a tourist site. It was
surrounded by lovely scenery of flowers, pinus trees and fig trees at the Peak of
Nyarubuye Mountain. Down the trunk of the mountain, you could find very
sophisticated white rocks which made the mountain more beautiful and more
precious. Once you stood on that plateau contemplating its marvelous beauty,
you could project your eyes far beyond the horizons of Tanzania opposite
Akagera River. The school premises themselves were demolished. Apart from
the high church building that harbored the bodies of the victims slain there and
the statue of holy Mary shot by bullets, no other building looked solid there.
There was hope that they might be mended and restore Kararu’s exceptional
beauty.
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Despite the ruins and fresh memories of the Genocide against Tutsi that ravaged
the whole of Kararu and Nyarubuye region, Kararu primary school was always
the champion. The school had an idol in football. That was the always silent teen
boy Adama. The school hardly won when he was absent. His playmates might be
tempted not to be morally motivated. He was the only player to stir their
opponents. He was named the Jesus of their team since he helped them to win
where it was crucial.

One day Kararu were playing against Nyawera primary school, a very tough
team which his playmates feared much in Inter school tournaments. Nyawera
play makers were very tall and very skilled. It was no easy to snatch a ball from
them when they were in action. Adama was the only player who threatened their
defense and shattered their hopes of winning. He dribbled three players including
the goalkeeper and chipped a superb goal. The whole playing ground stood
hopping very high waving their coat and T-shirts and shouted hailing him in
unison,”Oyee!!!! Long live Adama, Adama the great! Oyee!!!” They roared and
roared even the students from Nyawera joined them to celebrate that goal. At the
end of the match it was Adama two, Nyawera zero. What uproars were at the
playground! Nyawera students threatened to fight Kararu students but they run
away from their rage and took the trophy to Kararu.

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Adama was a brilliant boy in his classroom. His hard work and resilience in
whatever exercise and course work given paid off when he was proclaimed to be

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the first at the provincial level. Later in September, he was admitted to the
Gahini Complex School, a few miles from his home.

The school itself was not decent and conducive compared to Kararu primary
school. The school premises stood in the valley surrounded by two hills in the
position of boxers. Gasyo village was a threat to everyone.It was shaven of the
banana plantation. The buildings were a rarity there. No signs of life apart from
the scavengers of the carcasses of the massacred bodies that were thrown there
waiting to take a respectful rest some time in future. Gasyo once a lovely village
was then the shrine of grief from the innocent slaughtered brutally there. On the
opposite side, Gatuza village embodied signs of life. That created an opposition
between the two villages. If it were not Gahini valley that reconciled them, they
could have pushed each other, since Gatuza always wanted to cover their guilt in
the black scenes that left Gasyo a colorless village.

Four blocks that made Gahini school infrastructure were seriously riddled by
bullets. Doors and windows were no where to be found. Even the few that were
left not looted had no glasses. The dormitories were on around six hundred
meters from the classroom. They were surrounded by a huge forest and other
bushes. It was speculated that murderers still lived in some of the burrows found
there. Despite the lack of school facilities and frightening environment that
harbored female mosquitoes, dangerous vectors of Plasmodium faliciparum
protozoa, Gahini School was loved because of its laiser fire kind of rule.

At that school, things were hotter than ever before. Strange things happened to
Adama when some senior girls challenged him in what they called initiation. They
teased him as much as possible and a small number of them wanted to befriend
him, which he feared very much.

In the secondary school, he did not lose his fame in playing well football. He
became known and that caused girls to begin associating with him. Being
taciturn, they failed to win his hearty and make him friendlier. They went on
persuading him with their physical gestures in vain. Thereafter they began to
spread the rumor among his fellows that his pen was not functional.

The boys’ hostels were far from the playing ground that was found behind the
classrooms premises. Along the path leading to the hostels were bushes and
creepers. These bushes were the shelters of romantic affairs even at noon. In
addition, all those who suspected themselves of HIV hooked the innocent boys or
girls who might pass there in order to infect them. Grown up people raped small
children nearly throughout the country, it was like a breakout of a disease. They
did this with the belief that they could be healed of HIV.

Adama walking alone in that dense forest heard a whistle. He stopped a little
scared. To his surprise an evil looking girl dressed strangely approached and
started coaxing him. Though it was beginning to be dark, he noticed she was one

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of the evil Queens of that forest. As he shoved his way, other two stormed out of
the bush.

At first he thought they were devils, but later realized they had traces of
humanity. In his confusions, the first one broke the ice. “You play well and I love
you.” She chuckled as she began to twist her arms round his shoulders for some
strokes.

Adama was trembling and millions tactics of escaping were racing in his mind. To
escape, he fooled them by showing signs of cooperation. He attempted to
descend his shorts. Having found his gesture of approval they scrambled each
one of them racing towards him. It was in their jam that he crept through their
circle and absconded mysteriously.
“Where is he?” One of the girls yelled.
“Oh! The angel transported him.” The next one added with a great surprise.
“I know he is here. You hid him so as to escape with him.” The third girl
threatened and she was ready to trigger a fight.

She continued to quarrel “Scoundrel! Let me come and finish all of you. You think
you are stronger than me. You Debtor of the devils; who hid that medicine and
prey of ours….!” This third girl roared

“Don’t yell at me if you want peace. Do you think what you were going to do was
just?” The offended girl barked.
“You fail my plan. Idiot! Let me come and finish you! Be as it is if I am to be
sentenced because of you.”
The second girl who watched a film aloof being a bystander intervened.
“You stop your bloody game! Sillies! If he left it’s up to him because he survived
our cruelty. So why do you keep on quarreling until you nearly tend to cut
yourselves the necks.”

The third girl, a fat girl with red eyes turned a deaf ear to the second girl who was
apparently very slender and weak. A fierce fight broke out between the first girl
and the third girl. As they wrestled, the third girl trying to strangle her opponent,
the second girl was agitated intervening in words cursing them to stop the fight.
She failed to control their anger. She tried as much as she could but she got
wounded by the nails of these two girls that scratched like leopard’s claws. The
war was cooled by the honk heard in distance.
“Hey! There come the police!” The second girl screamed.
“What?” The third girl barked and she was bleeding profusely through her
nose.
They all scattered back in the bushes where they camouflaged.

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Everything to Adama looked like a monster. He struggled to fade out those
terrible memories but the images of persons carrying machetes, swords, and
truncheons engulfed him. He tried to overcome that state; instead it overwhelmed
him with numbness. His case was not yet discovered until the mess hour for
supper.

His bedmates found him in terrible condition as he was crying for help. Some of
them got confounded by that incident as they joined him in unison. It was a great
challenge that Rwanda had been undergoing to deal with post traumatic period
after the horrific genocide against Tutsi in 1994.

The hall became a scene of cries of agonies of desperation and help that
haunted the school officials to be anxious about the last of those calamities. The
experts in counseling among the staff did not delay to intervene in helping those
affected.

It didn’t take a long time to reach Kararu. His father was awakened by the roaring
of the school van. He woke up from the dreams and fearlessly led out to see
what the incident in his home was.
“We are very sorry!” The driver of the school van sighed wiping his
seemingly sleepy eyes.
“What happened?” Kabeyi queried with horror.
“Your son is in trauma. He can neither drink nor eat.”
“Where is he?”
“He is in this car. You better come with a torch and see if he is still
breathing.” The driver who was also the master of discipline pointed.
“Adama…! My son! Wake up! Do not fear I am your father.” Kabeyi called
him.
“Ayi we…! They are doing it again. Don’t do! Oh! They are killing me…
Swords! I die…Mummy is slaughtered…They come again with clubs in their
hands to kill me. Help me Lord. Don’t forsake me Daddy!” Adama screamed as
he shook his hands everywhere in the sky.
“Take him out of this van.” Kabeyi ordered.

The story of girls who raped a boy was spread all over Kararu. Everyone at
Kararu welcomed that immoral news with impatience and awesome. Adama who
got this story from his father as they talked to each other after his convalescence
next day became hostile to hearing it.
“Actually, I heard that before it spread here. It happened there at Nigiha. I
too first doubted it but the same incident was going to be stranger on me.”
“Hein…! What? Have they… Oh no! God forbid it!” Kabeyi whined.
“God forbid that.” Adama beat on his chest and sighed nearly to cry.
“That’s a blessing indeed! But is it true that they threatened to harm you?”
Kabeyi skillfully inquired.

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 “Quite true….! They even removed their clothes and looked enviously at
me like hungry wolves trying to bar my passage. Fortunately my obedience to
you and God’s protection were upon me so that I could not be forced to
transgress the sixth commandment.” Adama explained to his father who was
following every word his son reported.
“Ouch….! This world is being mad. My God…! Help my son to vanquish
these temptations.” Kabeyi prayed.
“Father…? You know they like me. ”
“I know one remedy for this.”
“Which one….?”
“You better stop playing football. It is an incentive for the ones who trouble
you. In addition, our Christian beliefs do not match with games like football.”
Kabeyi warned his son in an authoritative voice.

Adama first kept quiet and his eyes blankly wandered on his father. His facial
expression revealed that it could be impossible to abandon football. “I would
rather leave Gahini School or even abandon class completely.” He thought
during that instant. Kabeyi read his son’s denial from his face and insisted on his
proposal.
“You know you are the only child I have. Besides, I don’t want any bad
thing to upset your life. You know well how much I sweat to cater for you during
those atrocities. So if I lose you, I will die with sorrow. I know things that can
harm your progress. Therefore I really beg you to abandon those games of
pagans.”
“What…? Abandon games of whom….”
“I mean those sinful games of pagans that mislead you.” He extrapolated
with confidence staring at his son with authority.
“Daddy, I know you saved me from thousands of plights, but I think it is
time for me to decide what I should do by myself. No reason to be assimilated or
becoming transformed as in chemical phenomenon. But, let me ask you, what’s
wrong with football? By the way, whatever I can do I am a football player not a
professional prayer of blind faiths.”
“Is this what you tell your father?” Kabeyi threatened pointing at him
angrily.
“Don’t take me wrong. I am young and need entertainment. Remember
that I am trying to overcome trauma which caused by those tragedies that befell
me during my early childhood. So when I play football, I feel released.”
“I understand you on one point but our congregation doesn’t normally
allow football. Remember also that as a pastor’s son, you have to value my
ministry. It is a shame to hear that my son is indulged in earthly corrupting games
instead of concentrating on prayers.” Kabeyi insisted still holding the Bible.
“Why do you keep on insisting on football? Do you want me to lose my
favored talent and cling to the dogmatic principles of religion? Do you also want
me to go back in that worst situation because of solitude?”
Muzehe Kabeyi was challenged by his son’s words. He was no longer
Adama he raised before. His father at that time sought the diplomatic ways to

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apply so as to persuade his son to keep on trusting God. He thought by treading
in that faith, it should have a great impact on his way of behaving in his early
teens. It was in that respect that Kabeyi used Jesus’ story to transmit his
message.
“Praise the name of Jesus.” Kabeyi chorused.
Adama as usual answered hallelujah. Kabeyi who was somehow possessed
continued his sermon.
“If it was not for his love, we would have perished. He carried my burdens
and human race’s misdeeds so as to cleanse us forever. Therefore we have to
deprive ourselves from many pleasures just to tread in his steps. Yes….! He
himself fasted about forty days. An example of being ascetic….”
“Father, can I stop football due to ascetics?” Adama teased holding breath
as if he was preventing chuckling.
“Yah….! And include many other things.”
“Tell me, if people are still doing iniquities, violence or the genocide that
we hardly survived; is that they play football? Umh…! You said he died to
cleanse our sins but I still doubt this.”
“Trust and obey my son. Of course the situation in which we live betrays
God’s love and power onto humanity, but blasphemy is a sin to God” Kabeyi
blamed his son.
“It’s not father. Maybe he died in order to simplify the intensity of our sins
and liberate mankind to sin anyhow, anytime he or she wished. Nothing can to
cushion us against sin. We expect mercy from Him.” Adama muttered.
“What challenging questions….! Just believe in what the Bible says. Do
you understand?”
“Not at all… Remember it was written by humans.”
“Yes….! But they were inspired by the holly ghost. For the sake of your
ignorance Jesus died for every person all over the world including you. Then he
who receives Him and do not harden his or her heart will inherit the everlasting
life.”
Adama’s questions were big issues to solve with evidence showing who is mighty
between Satan and God. Adama needed to know the beliefs of their sector
thoroughly and Kabeyi’s answers were still worries.
“I beg you many times to read the Bible, but you don’t read. You should
have known all these mysteries of salvation.” He answered turning papers of an
old book covered by soot on the small table.
“It is tough. Many Bible events are beyond my interpretation. Even getting
touch to them is impossible. Of course I have been taught about the great
controversy between Satan and Jesus. We are also told how Satan was thrown
on the earth to sow seeds of discord among persons. What is contradicting is the
fact that He inflicted Satan’s wrath on his beloved man in his Image. I wonder, if
God was mighty, why didn’t He ruin Satan in order to save us from animosity that
has borne murder?”

Kabeyi raised his eyes up in the ceiling. He coughed as if he missed what to say.
As he recovered from that temporal silence he answered him.

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 “God’s mercy and justice are beyond our thinking. I don’t blame you on
this question. Many persons consult me for further explanations. Indeed, Satan is
so arrogant, brutal; the father of evils and from our judgment, Satan would have
been perished. His justice is beyond us.”
“Yes I know .But why?”
“If he ruined Satan, angels would have rebelled and consider His authority
a tyranny. He let him so as to grant the choice and democracy to his persons. In
this case he gave us consciousness. Whoever who will perish will have chosen
badly.”
“He would have perished him to strengthen His power and authority.
God’s grant of passion choice is what causing us to suffer trials from wicked
persons. Remember the actions held in the shrines. People of Israel suffered
much hunting a sacrifice of a cleansed bull or lamb. They panicked and prayed
days and nights for their people who sinned against God. Now it’s the reverse.
People kill one another expecting to be absolved by their prayers which
deodorized by hypocrisy.”
“You know sacrifices were the herald of the savior. We have been
released from them. As you stressed, the only problem is that many persons
pretend to sing his name in vain.”
“If we should know that it’s not by saying honey, honey that we taste its
sweetness.” Adama sarcastically concluded.
“Let’s wind up this debate and it is helpful for you. Keep on learning the
Bible to increase your wisdom. Anyway when are you going back to school?”
“To school…? I don’t want to go back there.” Adama groaned wearing a
frown on his face.
“Why will you not go to study?” Kabeyi barked at his son.
“Unless they protect me against those tiresome girls, I won’t continue.”
Adama pampered.

“You have to work hard. If not, your future without degree will be a ruin?”
“I was just joking. But I need you to accompany me there.” Adama
begged.
“Don’t bother about that. But continue to pray so that you can overcome
temptation and the hard history our country passed through. Remember also that
AIDS is now killing many of your age because of ignorance. Remember also that
our hunters are still alive and they still want to exterminate us. So be wise and
keep your composure up to the time I build a house of your own. It is very
pleasant to find a sound bride and bridegroom who have obeyed God. How do I
wish you to bless me with grandchildren to recover my lost lineage….!”
“Have you allowed me to play football?” Adama inquired a bit worried
holding his chin on his left palm his elbow supported by his knee.

Adama, in bed did not sleep. Many images of nightmares he experienced were
sailing in his mind. He spent several minutes without closing his eyes. Attempting
to close the eyes, horrific things filled his sight and he missed the way to

8
overcome them. He passed many hours without slumber struggling to find a
solution to challenges that sailed in his mind.

He who is not taught by the past to embellish his present is a naïve villain. I really
venerate those brave and stoic heroes who keep on learning by heart the
holocaust, calamities, disasters and blunders of ignorance for they equip
themselves with tools of keeping the welfare of human race. Kabeyi kept on
remembering his past experiences in Kararu which was once upon a lovely
dwelling and a welcoming village. Though Kararu bushes harbored reptiles with
venom and a variety of ferocious beasts, it was not hostile to the guests who
used to come on sight seeing. This landscape left Kabeyi an indelible shock. His
elder son was stung by a cobra coming from that fauna while he came from the
river, then he died prematurely. Kabeyi’s wife and relatives died sadly being cut
off into pieces by the militia on that village that sheltered Inyambo; an adornment
of the eastern province. A village that poured milk to quench thirst and cramp
down misery flowed rivers of cries and blood of innocents Tutsi who were being
brutally slaughtered by Interahamwe.

The evening of Monday, the 5 th April 1994 marked the beginning of bitter
experiences for Kabeyi. His wife was fired out of her school without explanation
and no apologies could be made. The reason behind this injustice was that her
husband was suspected of cooperating closely with rebels named Inyenzi
(cockroach) who attacked the great region of Taramu. Her sack coincided with
his and they found themselves in terrible hardships. Kabeyi was forced to resign
his position of Vice Mayor of Kararu district to another short and snub-nosed guy.
It was believed the latter was from the strong and favored pure ethnic of the
masses claimed to have been persecuted for so long. By then Rwandans with
long shallow noses and slender size were in boiling waters. They were detained,
beaten and mentally harassed and discriminated by Hutu. The pregnant
wickedness was to come to birth come what may.

The morning of the 7th April 1994 was colder than ever. Signs of a storm could be
seen in the sky and in the neighborhood of Kabeyi’s homestead. Birds who
welcomed the dawn and twilight with their peaceful melodies of love were quiet.
All of them perched on the branches wearing a frown except an owl that sent its
echoes in the valley hurling “Huu, huu kaaa huu, huu kaa!” People around Kabeyi
remained indoors and cows too stayed in their pens. No child went to school.
“Something bad must have happened.” Kabeyi’s wife wondered with fright,
“And it’s unusual to find such striking silence in this area while by this time even
when it could be raining, you would hear the cracking of hoes.”

As Kabeyi prepared to answer her, they heard gun bolts. They stepped out to
see what happened then saw many persons carrying loads, leading cattle with
children heading towards the holy place at the mountain of Nyarubuye.

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 “Hey…! You are still here? The father of the country was shot dead this
night. We have to pay his death by shedding our red in turn. A true sacrifice by
becoming innocent scapegoats….!” He explained in a hoarse voice, being
agitated and beating his laps.

“Rwanda is going to be a slaughtering place. The mischievousness is

coming back. Kabeyi cater for the children you will manage to stay with. If you
survive don’t marry to another wife. I know well you will stay alive. Good bye.”
Kabeyi’s wife whined with a lump chocking her throat trying to cover her
saddened face with her shawl.
Kabeyi and his family started to gather few materials to flee with. In the twinkling
of an eye, many persons were running letting their heavy load tumble and the
cows stayed loose mooing loudly. Some of the fugitives camouflaged in bushes
nearby Kabeyi’s land and others climbed long trees around. Huts and iron
sheeted houses were burning and it was a terrible holocaust. When Kabeyi and
his family got out fleeing, men with cudgels, spears, axes, clubs and guns
engulfed the whole village surrounding all passages to Nyarubuye Church. They
marched stomping their feet and they dressed themselves in banana leaves
singing,
“Hey yo….! Kill Tutsi and exterminate them. Hi- Han…! That they die,
even a baby still in its mother’s womb must die.”
The rainy season of 1994 was the worst period for the victims of genocide in
Rwanda. The country was in cries of agonies and the cries of those who exulted
over them. The terrible crisis caused by Interahamwe led by the government of
Abatabazi (rescuers) as they called themselves spoilt Rwanda. Radio and
Television des Milles Collines (RTLM) broadcast the killings and identified where
people might be found so as to be finished off. This game of persecuting
innocent people that were marooned pleased the murderers. Old people killed
their counterpersons. Wisdom was no longer important. Intellectuals, children,
beautiful girls and handsome men were brutally cut off heads. The sympathetic
Hutus who sheltered some of Tutsi were punished with decapitation. What were
lullabies turned into tears and curses. Blood of Tutsi and other victims mingled
with that of their cows, goats, sheep and poultry, a phenomenon that pleased the
cruel murderers to devour that red calling it a remedy to their guilt and their long
suffering hatred.

In hiding Kabeyi experienced his wife’s death when his neighbor whom he gave a
cow killed her brutally with a sharp machete telling her sadistic words of
exultation over her,” You have made us slaves with your cows and ruling over us
through thrones and thrones, now it’s our time. Yes it’s our time to overthrow you
and put in place the rule by the masses. Long live Hutus, may curse befall on
Tutsi.” He chanted raising his hands holding a club that was ready to smash her
head into ashes.

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His other three children were torn by spears that their hunters pricked them
through the heart while attempting to escape. Kabeyi observed all these absurd
events with his last born son.

The murder increased and the media assisted it. He who was long-nosed, tall
and obstinate was in turmoil together with his or her family. Showing the identity
card with Tutsi mark was an unpardonable sin. Kabeyi and his son cradled their
health near Akagera River. They could neither cough nor go out. The murderers
too could not approach the banks of Akagera River. The jaws and scales of a
crocodile that lived there embarrassed them.

News about crocodile came true when Kabeyi saw it devouring carcasses of
sunken bodies. At first he became frightened, but there was no other escape. He
waited for death although he preferred to die the next day rather than dying that
day. He lived together with it watching how it devoured cadavers floating on the
river. Some of those cadavers clutched themselves in the grasses near the
river’s borders letting a terrible and horrifying scent. Far beyond on other side of
the river, the murderers used to humiliate women and after violating them they
sank them brutally in that wide and deep river. They dragged these sources of
humanity to throw them naked in Akagera

He starved for his son who needed to get something to put in his belly. In dawn
when the situation was calm, he stooped through creepers and went straight to
the cassava plantations that surrounded the river. He excavated few of them and
they smashed them row. Sometimes, Kabeyi might spend a couple of days
without even drinking a drop of water apart from saliva.
Life is an improvisation and most of the time a kind of prison especially when one
finds himself in tribulations such as Genocide against Tutsi in 1994, an assisted
killing for ethnic cleansing as even Hitler, the cruelest did. Kabeyi who seldom
attended the mass started to kneel in that wildness imploring the Almighty to lay
His hands upon him.
“I swear to obey and serve you if you save me from these plights. I will
offer my all to you forever.” Kabeyi prayed in a sort of murmur mixed with tears.
Throughout Rwanda, from the child of primary school up to the old, they used to
walk with traditional and modern weapons. You might find pangas and clubs with
nails under many Hutus’ beds. In the evening when the slaughter was
postponed, the murderers gave an evaluation boasting on a number of persons
they killed and property they looted. Any victim found in the bush by a slip of bad
luck, he or she experienced problems. These cruel people roared and run with
their weapons behind him or her as hounds pursuing their prey. Once caught,
they cut them alive into pieces starting from the finger, tongue, sex until they
might even remove the intestines and force the victim to feed on them or they
might force them to consume the offal of the killed cows.
It was in the mid June. Hound dogs were trained to sneak the whereabouts of
Tutsi in their hiding. The only secure place was the river’s sides.

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Kabeyi did not close his eyes even for a minute. The bitter scenes of his family’s
departure, particularly his pretty wife he cherished despite her nagging when
something went wrong still hounded him. His insomnia was relevant. The setting
forced him to watch bitter scenes murderers who withdrew infants out of the
pregnant women from Hutu families claiming to save them from the enemy inside
them.

It was one and half months that he had been hiding. That Tuesday on the 4 th July
1994 he got out of the bush with Adama. He talked to himself,
“This is my last day on this unfair hell. No one can save me with my child,
except God who is sleeping. My wife has gone; my children and relatives are not
alive. Let me go and die at my compound instead of remaining in this swamp of
martyrdom.”
They got out of the bush and suddenly got bump to bump with one of the angels
of violence. He was tall. His uniform differed from that of the regime that chased
Tutsi. From the hat down to the boots, the color was that of plastered cement
plastering the floor with brown and black lines.
Kabeyi in his patched rags yielded and raised his arms communicating his
capture. The soldier did not respond. Kabeyi hollered,
“Please shoot us with a bullet. We beg you, do not maim us.”
That soldier, instead of harassing them he put his bag down and kept watch on
his AK47. He fumbled in that worn bag a loaf of bread and offered it to Adama
who yawned widely and another one to his father. Kabeyi held the bread in his
hands and clasped the hands of that soldier shedding silent tears. In husky voice
he declared some words,
“Other soldiers sided with our foolish neighbors to chase us, but you are
saving us. Would you please tell me who you are?” Kabeyi implored still forcing
air to come out of the mouth.
“We are those rebels called Inyenzi Inkotanyi for so long.”
Kabeyi hugged him tightly and this time he followed every word he said.
“They lied to you that we have tails, long ears and out ward jaws.”
“This is what they lied us!”
“This was the animosity to promote their greed through discriminative
ideas. Be relieved and feel comfortable. We are bringing the message of
redemption and salvation. No killing again in our realm” The soldier cheered
Kabeyi patting him gently on the back.
“Is it true that we will have that unity we had before the colons, first
Republic and the second Republic brought discrimination and the quota system?”
“It’s our duty to restore the order in our country. Of course these
massacres based on ethnic cleansing collapsed our solidarity and unity. But you
have to teach this message of reconciliation and forgiveness despite the
bitterness in what we experienced as refugees and victims of ethnic segregation
that bore violence and the strange murder.”

12
 “You have good plans. As a motto to fight against genocide and
segregation ideology, God and I will support you.”
Life was resumed. No more gun bolts and the echoes of cutting machetes,
clubs, swords and the cries of sadism from Interahamwe. The stench of the shed
blood and the remains of the persecuted innocents blanketed Kararu. It harassed
the survivors who got out of the bushes, swamps, caverns, burrows and holes
dug by the murderers. Houses were complete ruins. The survivors joined military
barracks.

CHAPTER TWO

Adama was putting on his maillot and football shoes when his father woke up,
with a cup of water to clean his countenance and his mouth. His father was
stricken by the fact that his son was not going to resume studies at Gahini.
“Hey! Where are going with those clothes?”
“In the playing ground…” Adama answered confidently.
“Oh! No! What did I tell you?”
“I don’t want to study. That’s all.”
“While FARG is ready to finance your education…”
“Even those who studied died, so why do I need to waste my time packing
the letters in head to keep on troubling me?”
“This is the chance to have a rosy future. Education will transform you
into a great person.” Kabeyi explained to him.
“No future in writing. Many persons with wealth did not study in class as
you force me to. They acquired knowledge casually and now they live
comfortably. Take an example of Zidane or those millionaire players, who of
them attended class? So why do you force me to seek blessing in books?”
“Degree is worthy treasure to provide pleasure without pressure.”
“It’s so funny! That paper keeps persons back and when you die, you can’t
inherit it your child or your relatives.” Adama sneered.
“Yes….! That’s where its strength lies.” Kabeyi answered triumphantly.
Man’s nature is like that physical phenomenon described in physics. You can
apply whatever transformations, whether physical, mental, psychological, moral
or even philosophical power to shape, to mould and change it completely, but
you cannot succeed unless there is the individual’s self-mutual consent. Don’t
fear to manifest your weak side for the leopard can never lose its spots. If you
insist on disguising your identity so as to please somebody, you will be burdening
yourself and killing off your capacities of self realization and critical thinking. It is
in this respect that Adama chose football as his vocation. From time to time he
was training himself at home with a ball, made in banana leaves shooting a wall,
making short movements. He might be found sweating unknowingly as he trained
his body to acquaint breath releasing exercises avoiding panting or cramps. In
the playing ground of Kararu primary school, he felt protected together with his
playmates.

13
Though Kararu was in the countryside, there passed the posts of electricity
cables taking the power to Tanzania. The area developed day after day because
of the business activities like petty trade and above all the fraud and the
bootlegging of illicit breweries such Kanyanga and Muriture that were common in
the East. The boutiques and the cine-halls were developed to warm up the place.
People playing darts, igisoro and others crowding the cine-halls peeping through
the windows made the area a center of laziness. The evening in Kararu was the
most awesome. You could bump to women and men who staggered holding
bottles of Kanyanga. Some of them reeking with beer crawled to empty their
bladder letting drops on their clothes. The barbaric ones never held their
tongues. They spat foolish words of hatred and immorality, insults and all sorts of
abuses.

Adama’s fellows introduced him in the cine halls. They watched the interpreted
big scenes. Along the way he could imitate RAMBO or Van Dame by jumping,
kneeling to shoot or punching and kicking his playmates. He hardly forgot those
big scenes, because he made them topics for discussion.

His retention capacity after dropping out was a drop of water in Kivu Lake; but it
was a surprise that he sang some verses of lyrics from American top musicians
excellently. While he was singing them he did all the gestures pertaining to the
songs from Jennifer Lopez and JA Rule swinging his body more than the authors
of the songs.
In playing ground before the training started or when they were pausing, his
playmates hailed him for his astounding performances and also sneered at him
for he had no girlfriend like them. They teased him by calling him various names
of villainy, naivety and frigidity. Some of them suggested in humor that one day
they would flog him with thistles. In their chat, his playmates always sought to
corrupt him by their sex oriented talk.
“Thank God I’m ugly. If I were as handsome as you appear, I could use
that weapon to attract babes. Jameni, a great number of them are longing you,
then you deny them love…..You refuse to make practices earlier, it’s up to you.
Every day my father, my father… So what? He is old and he had experienced
love. What about you?” One of his playmates challenged.
“You know I can’t date a girl.” Adama pleaded with shame.
“My goodness…! Do you hear him? He doesn’t even know how to
challenge a babe man!! How fake are you!” His playmate retorted him in great
amazement and went on his nagging.
“God sends nuts to those teeth are pulled! Do you have many gaps so that
you can’t munch those nuts Jama? Or your tool is still?”
“I have teeth but nuts are hard to munch at the first sight.”
“I f you can’t, do come with me and I will show you how they are easily
chopped. If you fail me, you will no longer be of my team. Remember I am the
captain. I hope you try beer.” His playmate who seemed a delinquent in behaving
and acting tested.

14
 “Since my childhood, I have not tasted on it. My father told me it is not
good and added that it brings hangover that spoils the brain.”
“How ignorant you are! Try it and savor its deliciousness. You will feel
stronger than before. Your fears and inhibitions will fade out and you will face a
babe without shame. Avoid asking childish questions like ‘does it rain,’ they don’t
like this kind of talk. Shoot at the target and you will be admired. Isn’t so man?”
“Jabi, it’s too hard but I am going to break the shackles that are binding
me to conformism and conservatism and try to overcome frustration from sour
experiences that are always dominating me.”
“No other cure apart from beer and romance to make you forget that
tragedy.” Jabi ensured him.
Next day when he was coming from the training as usual together with Jabi and
their group led to the cine hall. Their sole objective of the day was to incite and
introduce Adama to watch a special film. Adama too was eager to see that film
his peer group hinted at many times. That evening was special. The full moon
shined its beams and the sky scattered the stars which resembled that blue film
his friends mentioned several times, hence he wanted them to brief him about it.
“What is that blue film poor chap?”
“Don’t ask such childish questions. Once you see it I am sure you will
always go there to watch. It is the best one I have ever seen.” Jabi who was keen
on that film incited Adama.
“I wish I could see that film you sing.” Adama nagged with much curiosity
and earnestness.
The blue film…? Was it that it looked blue that his playmates eulogized it? What
was is it all about? These were questions that were burning Adama’s head as
they waited for the cine hall owner to introduce it.
In Kararu cine halls, the blue film was presented in a great secrecy. The drastic
measures proposed to ban this immoral film did not discourage the youth from
intoxicating their hypothalamus with it. The dealers in film showing exhibited
them in the nights and they covered black curtains in the windows. They also
padlocked the doors. The blue film swelled the film dealers’ earnings of the day.
Adama who was watching porno for the first time got excited. He followed
actively every detail on the screen. He passionately fixed his eyes on the events.
Whenever they winced he too empathetically emulated them. What he was
watching was strange and he missed words to describe them. He was most
surprised by a thug who sniffed his partner like a he-goat on the heat when the
thug applied cunnilingus.
2

He had watched the whole game on video. Whenever he recalled the images of
the blue film and the wincing of the actors, his pen grew bigger and his mind
went far away.

15
 “I know I am very shy. Lord help me to prove my manhood. Give power to
my hands to perform their work even when they may be thrown over the moon.
He talked to himself and spoke even louder as though somebody talked to him.

In these plans dominating his memory, his father confounded him while he leant
on the ajar ready to close the compound,
“Hey! Who are you? Let me go and bring my…” He cried out gathering
courage leading to the door.
“Father….?” Adama panted.
“Where have you been at this hour?”
“I….I….Was in train-ing…..” He stammered.
“Next time, do not come late. I was about to search for you thinking that
the militia took you for hostage.”
“We finished the training late. You know, there was a playmate of ours we
went to pay a visit. He is seriously ill.”
“I have forgiven you. Remember jealous persons are still with us and they
do not want us to live. Haven’t you heard they are killing some of the survivors in
Sake? Make sure that you come early if you don’t want to die of machete. Please
come and have your meal.” Kabeyi pointed to the content.

Adama attacked the food without praying. His father looked at him angrily and
harshly told him,
“Why do you eat without praising the Lord who blesses you with this
meal?”
“Oh! I am very sorry! It’s a slip of the mouth. A slip of the tongue…. I
thought you have finished the whole business.” He answered in gulfing a
mouthful of the food in his cheeks.
“No I don’t joke with children who manifest heathen behaviors. This
means you no longer pray before going to bed. Your heart is going to be Satan’s
castle.” He rebuked.
Adama seemed a bit challenged. He turned a deaf ear to his father’s
admonishing and kept on scooping food with a spoon, swallowing hungrily. Come
that the food might have chocked him, he could not escape suffocating.

Though a lay he went to his local church. He could skip and go back home for
relaxing. Nearby Kararu Seventh Day Adventist Church premises commonly
known the sole sect to tread in Jesus’ preaching by keeping the laws of Sabbath
dwelt a young lovely and friendly woman. It was speculated that she repatriated
from abroad and got married to a genocide perpetrator who always threatened to
finish her before the police intervened and accommodated him in the penitent
house. She used to sit around the way knitting some cloths. She was so

16
sympathetic and talkative that she teased Adama. Adama didn’t know much
about her and yet he admired her tender heart as she talked warmly to him. The
only thing he saw was that the woman lived alone. He became stiffed by her
beauty.

It was on Saturday at around 10 AM. The weather was very cold. The scenery
was enveloped by a dark cloud that ushered drops. He was shaking with the chill
from that mist. Along the way skipping the Sabbath program, he met a boy who
passed him an envelope without telling him any other thing. He followed him to
enquire details about the offer but the guy was in hurry.

He waited for the night fall to tear it apart in privacy. He made sure the door was
tightly locked. He pulled the curtains not to let the light and lit his torch after
blowing off the lantern. Satisfied, he opened it. Three pieces of five thousand
Rwandan francs saluted him.

“Wonderful! Fifteen thousands for me……I can’t believe this.” He shouted

with joy forgetting that his father was around, as he took the letter, a kind of
blessing for him.
“Aaaah…..! It is Sala. May God bless you Sala!” He said hopping in short
steps as the saved dance when praising. He kissed the letter several times and
took few minutes of grinning.
After celebration, he began to read that provoking letter with beams of
happiness.
“I have wished you to be mine for so long and the hysteria from my
loneliness is burning inside me. I always thank God for I physically meet you. It is
not sufficient. Something is still missing. Most of the time, I have an impression
that you don’t care about me. You know well impressions without expressions
result into depressions! I have offered you my whole heart and yet you don’t
care. Now it’s time to tell you the bare truth that I really love you. Please, accept
my sincere love and comfort me. Do heal me the sores of missing my late….You
are the sole friend I can count on. Do rescue me!” Adama read with much
emotion bowing his eyes on the pen scripts.
Though mature, Sala seemed an adolescent. She enclosed a poem with that
letter to allure Adama. Its message full of attractive lyrics transformed Adama
who had never experienced affection from a woman.
“Who will I lean to?” He read somehow carried away by emotions and
sentiments that were read from his facial expressions. He continued and its flavor
made him take a sudden decision. After running through all stanzas line by line
silently, he repeated it again loudly.
“Who will I lean to?” He nodded with satisfaction. He paused and resumed
after reflecting upon the title.

“Exhausted and depressed

Full of energetic passion

17
 In this almost empty road
Where everyone celebrates the good misery
Mocked by the skirts, who will I lean to?

The day seems a year, the hunt a jinx

Life turned a prison and a myth.
Dark images seal me,
For, I am alone. So,
Who will I lean to?

Don’t turn me a deaf ear

Nor, the blind eye
Your heart of hidden fortunes
Of magnanimity, and honest
You are tender and not offended,
Rise again. If not who will I lean to?

Who else shall cover me with joy?

Rejected, I need your hand,
Come and quench my thirst for love
Sink me in your smiles of happiness
Shining flames of romance,
If not, who will I lean to?”

Adama in his room, his mind was roaming over the moon. His state was changed
and his room and bed seemed a paradise. The adornments on the wall glittered
love like those blooming flowers of beauty on Sala’s yard. What he found
impossible and immoral was then very easy. Indeed, it’s the first straw that
breaks the camel’s back. It was somehow too late to go to Sala’s house for
expressing his gratitude.

He waited next day on Sunday afternoon. As he was packing his leather shoes in
his bag setting to leave, his father emerged.
“Hey…! Where are you going? It is as if you are going far away.” Kabeyi
asked with suspicion.

It was unusual for Adama to take many clothes in a bag when going to train.
“Haven’t I told you about a friend of mine who has been admitted?”
“Ah…. Yes!” He shook his head.
“So I am going to sit near him.”
“Remember to read the Bible for him, looking for those lessons of relief. It
helps much.”

What was a clinic turned into Sala’s house. It was a square house of medium
size roofed with red iron sheets. It was painted yellow and had white metallic
doors and windows. The garden inside the compound had a variety of flowers

18
dominated by roses. As he was gazing that scenery with admiration where the
love and fifteen thousands originated, he boasted about that heartedly. She, like
a receptionist on duty waited near the door when Adama knocked.
“Wow….! Very nice, you are coming!” She ushered him giving
repeated hugs. Her face looked desperate, but by Adama’s arrival she gradually
regained joy.
“I was reading a romantic magazine to find peace of mind and it was
nonsense. Thank God that you are sitting on my right side. To see you in my
house is to find an archangel from heaven.” Her voice was so soft that he
thought she was going to serenade him.
“Love is a chain and it is obliging.” Adama answered lowering his eyes
avoiding meeting hers.
It was going to be a feast. She harassed her house girl to roast the some meat
quickly so that her guest could not starve. In the mean time she entertained him
by lifting her laps over his legs. The guy first stayed numb and let the feelings of
heat dominate him. Sala who was ready to corrupt him buried her hair in his
chest. His heat increased and he could not be courageous to shove her.
She went to find whether the meal was ready. Adama fumbled through his bag to
get the Bible. He started to read some verses. Returning, she found him buried in
that holly Book. Her face wore a frown and she snatched it from him and flung it
in the shelf. Just after that, the house girl brought the bottle of red wine and
skewers on the plate. He nearly stood to bid farewell but his subconscious
illuminated the generosity of Sala.

Sala opened the bottle and poured a little quantity in glass and put it in front of
him. He kept quiet. Sala discovered what he needed. She took the glass and
approached it to his lips. He first protested but she suddenly made him changed.
“How you come here to refuse my gift? Just taste on it. It is juicy.” She
smiled as she coerced him tickling him until some content was poured on his lips.
He spat.
“My father told me that all kinds of liquor are sour and to poke one’s nose
on them is a sin.” Adama beamed shyly.
“I beg you to have at least one sip.” She begged as she tickled him. As he
laughed, she poured one drop of wine and it tasted juicy as she ensured, then he
started to lick his lips for more sips.

He had never sipped on any type of wine or spirits. After some shots, he was
being talkative. Whenever Sala stared at him, he too grinned at her. She in turn
profited his drunkenness and pointed to another opposite room. When she stood
to go, he dogged her holding his wires of skewers.

In that cell of temptation, she approached him. They drank fondling each other.
He felt dizzy and the world was rotating in his head. Every thing she said, he
blurted a yes. In few minutes, she was taking off her clothes. To the sight of her
nude, Adama cried out,

19
 “My father will kill me if I…..I”
“No, don’t worry! It is good, come near me.” She teased pulling his
pants. Overcome, he closed his eyes not to see her in face. Opening them, he
found himself in a suit of shame. Her magnet charms attacked him until he broke
the sixth commandment.
4

Next days were risky. The news leaked all over the village that Adama had an
affair with Sala. Whenever he passed, a group of peasants, young or adults
whispered something and jeered.
The ban made him a lay completely. He was using to playing football on
Saturdays while his congregation followed eagerly the sermon about the strange
beasts in Daniel’s prophecy. His congregation became ZANIRINDI, a famous
pub that gathered prominent drinkers in Kararu. Whoever found him dancing
jarua music swinging his body every here and there murmured to another,
“Isn’t he the pastor’s son? I have said that those who always fight Satan
will end up by being his disciples and join our kingdom of pubs where every one
is drunk but thirst.”
One day he came tired but sober and stormed in his bed. As a way of forging
slumber, he began to read the romantic magazine watching the photos. His
father who was meeting him once in blue moon went to talk to him. As he opened
the door he was shocked by what Adama was reading. He couldn’t keep his
anger.
“What are those satanic things are you leafing? Those nude photos
replaced God and me. Tell me, why do you turn your back against Him while He
saved us from that carnage?”
“Give me peace. Since when have you told me that cliché? You always
say God, Jesus ….I wonder, do they instill some force in you to judge people’s
sins until you take wicked measures for them such as my exclusion?” He
nagged.
“It’s a whip to remind you that you strayed. Anyway, let us forget about
the church business and talk about HIV/AIDS. I know it is rife these days and if
not prevented it is going to exceed the genocide. Do you know that one gets it
through sexual intercourse?”
Adama was offended and wondered why his father has chosen to introduce such
topic that he used to eschew before due to his Puritanism and he pleaded,
“Who told you I am philandering? I’ve never made love with any woman.
Even when I may do, I don’t see the problem with it.”
“I am not preventing you to do whatever you want, and I can’t let you fall in
a deep ditch. Remember HIV/AIDS is a terrible disease. Let me also remind you
that the remedy lies in abstinence. If you keep your Christian ways, you will be
protected.”
“I know that HIV/AIDS exits and it is an accident as being clashed by a
car. So you shouldn’t have used this to convict me. Before I was a child with no

20
tools of analysis, but now I am grown up. I don’t need any degree of Christianity
like Ellen G White or Enoch in the Bible.”
“I know you are becoming mature so that you decide for yourself and yet
you still need my guidance.” He rubbed his eyes forging conviction and picked
the stool near him and sat down.
“Father, don’t think I am in the fog covered by the blurs to drive me where
I don’t digest. I am no longer a child as you come to say. Don’t treat me like a
girl. I won’t be pregnant. For HIV, I can guess some one with it.”
“You still mistake yourself that you can test it with your eyes. The one you
think is negative may be positive in that terminology of anti retro virus terms. This
disease is one of the bad outcomes from that Genocide. Anyway keep on
interacting with your fellows…” He advised him changing his facial expression
tapping his feet on the soil.
“Don’t make me laugh! I will enjoy my youth as the ecclesiast seared.”
“It’s up to you. You have to learn this-the bow tempts the arrow to leave
while it remains. These thugs who have corrupted you will never support you the
day of your groaning.”
“How pathetic my father is!” He sneered as his father flounced to his
bedding room and he murmured to himself,
“Even that thing they call a boot, I won’t use it. I am not that bird which is
fooled by the glass and thinks of it a passage. I can’t light a lamp then later cover
it with a basket not to let its brightness.”
His father overheard him and retorted back to him,
“Go on playing with death. By the name of God I swear that the day you
fall ill because of your immorality, don’t come crying telling me to care for you. I
have warned you million times.”

That night Adama did not sleep well. Whenever he closed the eyes for slumber,
the flashbacks of his father’s words melted with his past experiences when they
hid themselves from their hunters burnt his thoughts. He regretted having had the
intimate conversation with him. Everything his father told him was evident and
reliable and he was beaten. After a long time dominated by series of past, he
realized that he should go back to his father and help him repent and also
apologize to whoever he had offended.
In the process of seeking solution to where to start begging pardon, he fell
asleep. After several minutes, he felt a monster seizing him. It had the claws of a
leopard. As he ran away from it, it leapt over him and scratched him. It dragged
him towards a huge fire. As he was dangling on the mouth of the hole, he
wrestled to shove the monster but it frightened to fling him in that furnace. In that
hell was strange beings resembling men dancing, beating bones of human
beings. Others were beheading small creatures which looked like children. For
sure Adama was the next to pass the pitch. He cried loudly and helplessly. The
more he cried, the more the monster grew sharp horns resembling spears and
the crocodile’s jaws. Then it yelled at him,
“Promise me if you won’t go to church to seek relief because of genocide
memories. I know that I caused that carnage and I am ready to oppose you

21
against your neighbors so that you do not prosper. You will find them enemies
and you will seek to exclude them even when you will pretend to manifest the
unity. In addition if you promise to serve me, I am here to protect you. The
reverse will cost you the hell as you see it.”
He opened his mouth to say, but it was completely gagged. The monster was
very angry and started punching him seriously. He was still dangling gripped on
its right shallow fingers. When it lifted him up and down as if bouncing him ready
to munch his head, he heard the voice telling him,
“Never betray me in Satan’s eyes. I know I didn’t intervene during that
tragedy. Believe in me for I am still your savior. Though many of your siblings
and relatives passed away, you can praise me for I protected you. I am ready to
release you from that detention. I know you are a sinner, but in me you are
forgiven.”
He felt the hands holding him up. He woke up shouting, but after he
realized those were bad dreams. He sighed and led to where the lantern and
match box were.
He first opened his Bible and ISAIAH 1:18 emerged and he read;
“Come now, let us reason together-says the lord. Though your sins are
like scarlet they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they
shall be like wool.”

Early in the morning he knocked on his father’s room. His father in shorts was
surprised at seeing Adama awake at that hour. It was customary for him to wake
up later at eight past some minutes.
“What happened to you?”
“Please, pray for me and forgive me.” Adama humbly implored having a
Bible in his underarm.
“Kneel down and invoke the holly spirit to cleanse you. Make sure you
don’t confess mechanically in front of the congregation.”
“Yes…! I will give them my testimony of what I experienced during my
sleep and time of irreligiousness” He closed his eyes for spiritual invocation.

CHAPTER THREE

He struggled to repent denouncing himself in front of the congregation. In his

back seats he found it a challenge to stand and step forward in front of the
crowd. On one side, the memory of Sala flashed in his mind. Every time he set to
take the final decision to stand, Sala’s mumble breasts, her soft body rubbing
against his, her tender sweet lips and her generosity when in need made him
flout on what he swore not to do.

22
After the service Christians holding Bibles, and other varied books came to him
exchanging greetings to him. Few of them boasted of their prayers for his
spiritual convalescence. Others who could not give him a hand before hugged
him. There, he found an extra ordinary love that he had never experienced.

The next week when he was grooming himself to go to church, the same boy
with an envelope came back with another. He threw it in the yard, something that
astounded him. His father was not around to intrude in his affairs. He tore the
envelope carefully with curiosity. No cash, but the lovely words inside it would
make him fly and remain in the sky like swans. For him, these words were honey
sent by his sweet heart. He read them loudly,

“You make me envy you

For, you are my love.
My all is for you
And every part of mine
Is wholly thine.
Count on my love,
Then you are a driver
And I shall travel in your car
For, you are Gold, a deliverer
The sun shined for my heart.”

Being so late the whole church looked behind to stare at him as he entered the
church hall that was so quiet. The heels of his shoes cracked “tic tic tic” on the
bare cement. He sat alone in back seats. No single word of the predication he
followed. He bowed his head in his knees and slumber overpowered him. He was
awakened by the big Amen spoken by the possessed Christians as the pastor
was concluding his sermon. He stretched his arms and led out not to meet
anyone from the church.
After a short while, his holy rest was at the house of temptations. He was no
longer ushered in the lounge, but in bed. He spent several minutes necking her in
realm of romance that was stopped by a loud knock on the door. They waited for
it to die out. It resumed continuously.
“Hey ….! Take camouflage under this bed and I am going to find who is it.”
She yelled to Adama pushing him towards the dark under bed.

Without comments of protest or reflection, he burrowed himself under the bed still
holding his shirt.

That man was very big and stout. She was mesmerized when she got sight of
him. The emotional man bounced to give her a hug. She reluctantly welcomed
him inside the house. The man never minded. He immediately went straight to
the bedding room with his suitcase that weighed about five kilos. Thee stuff
looked clean and it gave an impression that it contained valuable objects.

23
Under the bed, Adama vigilant as if on target, made some plates and bottles
crack. This frightened the man and he nagged.
“This bed of yours has something. There is a man here. Listen to him
again.”
“Don’t bother about it!”
“I am going finish that bastard.”
“Don’t lean under it. I know here there is a snake I failed to smash. It is
hunting mice. It’s up to you if you bow under it and it intoxicates you with its
venom.” She cooled him folding her arms round his robust shoulders.
Upon hearing their disputes, Adama perspired. He cowered himself near the
corner. He triggered the trap that was set there and it missed his thumb. At this
time, he became sober and started to curse Sala by heart. Above him the
wrangles about the snake man under the bed were solved. They were replaced
by a live discussion.
“I am not going to open my legs for a man such as you. You have
forsaken me. Pack up your things and get out of my room.” She commanded in a
serious voice pushing him.
“Honey…! Forgive me! If not I am going to die.”
Adama who was suffocated by dust and fleas forgot his case and nearly
chuckled. This gave him the cliché of a man before a woman.
The man continued to insist. Sala remained stick in the mud. Failure to woo her,
he leapt to fell her on the bed and lie flat on her to empty his swollen pipeline.
Sala covered her pubic area and the man scratched her to remove her
underwear.
“I am going to rape you!”
“You dare try and you will see. Do you know the police? I will shout and
every body will come to boo at you.” She yelled.
“Believe me. I am ready to give you whichever thing you beg provided that
I get the warmth of your bums.” He vowed wiping the beads of sweat that flowed
out of his forefront.
The amount of one thousand dollars changed Sala’s mind gradually as she finally
thudded on the bed dusting flecks of dust on Adama’s head. His eyes were about
to be blinded if he did not tighten them.
Adama suffocated. He could neither sneeze nor cough. As the bed timbers
cracked above his head storming dust on his head, he crawled and got out of the
custody, his body covered by dust and spider’s webs. He didn’t bother wiping
himself. He first took a glance on the scene where the nearly dead bodies were
wrapped in up and down movements dominated by agonies of ecstasy. The
window was half open and he peeped through it and found it was beginning to
get dark.

Adama took the suitcase and absconded through the door of the front room that
was not closed. He took the path that led to the wildness of Geraka. He roamed

24
in the dense forest. He advanced despite of the unfamiliar path. In the mid forest
he heard the stomping. He braked a little bit and soon tip-toed to notice what it
was. At first he thought it was the poachers coming to kidnap animals for sale.
Where he stood flashed beams of light that enveloped him. He faded and felt a
sudden nervousness that collapsed him. That was the leopard. It was believed
that the leopard could not devour any person anyhow without being aggressed.
It was in the cockcrow when he came round and found himself alone in deep
forest. There was still little light. He stood and took his parcel. To his misfortunes,
he saw a held of wild bulls racing. Having heard them in folk tales, he collected
strength to save his head. He ran through thorns with his suitcase. He was stung
by nettles and impaled by some. He ended the bushes and sat down to clean his
bleeding arm.
He yawned nearly to devour the bees that flew near him. He stared everywhere
to find something to eat. His hunger drove him to the sweet potatoes plantation
near the forest surrounded by few homesteads. He spied side ways and found
the area had no interferences. He picked a tether like piece of tree that hunters of
hares left and dug three sweet potatoes. He peeled them with his teeth and
munched them as a dog breaking bones.
The first taxi came carrying few passengers. He waved at it and the driver braked
at his toes.
“Kigali...” The driver asked, his left arm holding the steering wheel and the
right one pointing to Adama.
He nodded and the conveyer pressed him to climb the taxi. What was a dream
became the reality as the driver started the taxi.
2

At Salas’s, things were worst. The man woke up to pay his night shift. To his
surprise, the suitcase walked away. He fumbled everywhere even in his trousers’
pockets and missed its whereabouts. The only person to ask was Sala.
“Bring me that stuff of mine so that I can reward you.”
“What…? Stuff…!”
“I mean my suitcase.”
“I don’t know where you put it.” Sala pouted holding her arms in her chest
still in her night dress.
“Who else knows where it is apart from you?” The man barked at her
nearly to slap her.
“Say whatever you like. You have to pay my duty. As for your suitcase, I
was not meant to guard it.” Sala retorted scornfully swinging her height
leading to the store to collect some kitchen utensils for cleaning.
“You have betrayed me.” The man cried out scratching his head.
“For what motives then….?”
“The parcel had no wings. It didn’t fly. It is you who have it. Bring it before I
react.” The man ordered.

25
 “I didn’t even check that you had that kind of load.”
“Don’t pretend to fool me. Do bring it or I don’t pay you.” He cried out
shedding tears in his bearded cheeks.
He was agitated. He combed the whole room in search for it. He left no stone
unturned looking for it the second time.

Missing it, he picked the hoe that was laid in the corner to kill Sala. She realized
the danger and jumped mysteriously through the window. He pursued her out of
the house to strangle her. He could not trace her because she hid his rage in
what used to be a cow pen.

Being overwhelmed by passion, he broke into madness and ran helplessly. The
lunatic was constrained by a hole in the valley of Geraka. The hole served a trap
to catch the hippopotamus that grazed and harmed the peasants’ plantations of
beans and maize. It was thorny bridged and in it was dirty water. He slipped a
little and sunk in it.

CHAPTER FOUR

The town was a mixture of old roofed houses and high apartments that touched
the sky. The queue of the traffic jam and the cram of persons dominated the
street. On the sides of the roads were dirty children who were busy gambling and
others busy in their antics. Some were wrestling and others sat bowing their
heads on their laps. Nothing made them sit that way apart from the glue that they
were secretly sniffing. There was another group on the other side of the road who
were running after a lorry that transported banana bunches. They used their
strange tactics to unload that Daihatsu without being noticed. The passers- by
busy in the world of their own cheered at them being fascinated by the extent to
by these dirty children applied to unload cars. There were also blind people and
cripples with some containers in every corner. Whenever you passed them, the
chorus of their song was:
Help me. God will reward you. Whether you put five or ten coins, an aid is
an aid however small it is. The town was hot. Every one was busy in his business
and no one cared for the words of these beggars.
Adama was carried away by flats he found in town. He stood a moment watching
admiringly at city plaza building that touched the sky and adorned the center of
the town. It was by then that he heard somebody touching his shoulder. Turning
back he was surprised. He saw a new figure but not totally new to him. The boy
was decently dressed in blue jeans and a tight t-shirt that made his waist stand

26
out. He was also in a chain. He looked very elegant. He recognized Adama and
broke the ice to introduce himself.
“I am Asumani. Don’t you remember me in first year when we used to
play together?”
“Wonderful…! It’s you man. How are you?”
“I am well. Nice to meet you again…!”
“I too…. Any way, how is life?”
“No problem.”
“I’ve been wondering where to spend the night. It is a sheer chance to
have met you.”
“Don’t worry. We are together.”
They walked together in the center of the town. Asumani was familiar with the
town. He clasped Adama’s hand as they crossed the streets. The class hood was
the knight that bound them. It maintained their interaction and none of the two
might hesitate telling the other about his personal experiences.
“How long have you been here?”
“About four months. I came with a mission to look for my grand brother
who works in industry. I missed him. In town people are always in motion like
matter in physics as our teacher used to tell us. But I am not sure that he is still
alive. He died of Genocide because it is so long ago before war that he used to
work for SULFO, this building ahead of us.”
“The town is big place indeed. Maybe he is still alive. I too have an uncle
but I don’t know exactly where he lives. Tell me, have you continued to study at
Nigiha?”
“No. I came here in town escaping an arrest.”
“What have you done in the village of yours?”
“I regret that.” He shook his head to emphasize his deep grief. He found it
impossible to keep it a secret and revealed that to Adama.
“Let me not beat about the bushes. You know I nearly defiled a girl of
second year primary school.” Asumani bemoaned.
“Very odd!”
“I still regret. The trigger is that cursed Kanyanga I consumed that made
me adventure.”
“Cabbage…You couldn’t react accordingly.”
“You too can encounter the same trial. So let bygones be bygones. By the
way did you know I live together with Kaganga?”
“The king of Serbian group at Nigiha….?” He was flabbergasted.
“Yes …Any way I see you have a diplomatic parcel and yet you are
shabby….”
“It’s the opposite of what you think. In this thing there is life. You help me
to open it and poverty will run away.”
“Is there money inside?”
“Maybe… I took it from the whore who squeezed me under her bed when
she heard another man coming to champion me.”
“Wow….! You are no longer a Christian.”

27
 “Apart from threats and abstract words with no proofs, what else can you
gain from Christianity?”
“Now you are a man. Let’s go home. Robbers of this town can snatch it.”
They tried as much as they could to open it. It hardened. They brought their
mallet to strike it open. Yet it remained inflexible. They tried to chop it with a
hammer. It refused to open. Instead it started folding itself. Disappointed they
surrounded it and Adama found numbers on its back. He played rolling those
numbers. Randomly, he pressed 0150 then cut into two.
What valuable things inside it! Sheaves of currency, passport, seals and cheques
were in it. They continued to unload it. Three farfetched suits made them to grin.
At the bottom were the pistol and a magazine of ammunition. They fidgeted at
the sight of that strange weapon. It was Kaganga who did not faint to pick it out of
its nest.
At about nine o’clock in the evening, they went to Koromboka bar to bid farewell
to their misery. In it Adama pretended to be a teetotal by ordering a bottle of
soda. His roommates were amazed and started mocking at him.
“You aren’t a man.” Kaganga teased him showing a couple of girls who sat
taking liquor.
“Don’t you know I have those dangling things?” Adama pleaded.
“Prove it by testing on this men’s beer. This is the angel of sleep. It is
called Whisky of John Walker. The solution when one is burdened by problems
and trauma.” Asumani sneered watching at the label on the bottle.
“I know how much it disturbs. Do you want me to become blind as those
persons in Kenya?”
“What did happen to them?” Kaganga interrupted.
“They drank up chang’aa. Do you know what they told to the barman when
he ordered them to get out? They told him-‘Even if you have switched off the
lamps we will continue to drink until tomorrow.”
Laughter arose and Asumani proposed to him,
“Have a sip on it. I hope you drink since you relinquished.”
“Let me pour a sip of it in this soda and see how gorgeous this toast will
taste.” Kaganga demonstrated emptying a little quantity of Whisky in Adama’s
coca cola drink.
2

All our impulses are clung to whatever conditions and how we receive and
plunge in them for response. The context justifies the means and solutions. They
may be positive or mostly negative as it happened to Adama.
“Have a sniff on this ‘ifege’. It is an asylum.” Kaganga whose eyes were
red because of the puffs on the hemp that they commonly referred to as a scrap
from the crocodile’s back forced Adama to emulate them.

28
At the first smell, Adama nearly became foolish and lost consciousness. He lied
down beating his feet in the air like a caged bird. He wept for help and the only
remedy for his recovery was to splash cold water on him. Being a little bit cool,
they staggered to bed carrying the moribund. He sighed and panted accurately
letting farts. After a short time he was snorting like a wolf.

On the following day, sitting around the brazier, Adama was the topic of
discussion. Asumani and Kaganga blamed him laughingly that he was
inexperienced in every domain of what they called sharpness. The only thing
they admired him for was the parcel of money he brought. As an apprentice he
was given courses on how to spy and theories on invading any compound even if
it could be fenced by sekanyolya. Lessons on how to fling Gatarina (jemmy) were
issued to him. Adama learnt all these by heart. What was remaining for him was
to go to the field to put theories into practice.

In Muhima area they were taken for big bosses. They tried the styles of stars. In
the morning, they cooked listening to the hits of American pops and sometimes
playing cards and dices. In the afternoon, they lied down reading romantic or
football magazines. After supper they could go in bar or join the brothels.
Sex workers were advanced in their trading. Their places were known. The price
of a risky happiness was purchased according to a piece of candle that gave the
measure of the amount to pay. At Biziriko, customers paid before. These three
guys realized that whores of associations cost them much and chose to deal with
young girls they met in pubs. The latter were always claiming about their rights
as prostitutes in the society.
Prostitutes were always antagonizing with the police elsewhere they stood during
the night. They were strangely dressed in sexy clothes that showed their
nakedness above all their umbilical cord and part of their sexual area. They used
to sit near pubs, inns, hotels or elsewhere they thought to attract men. Some of
them were professionals. A few of them claimed that they were orphans whose
families were exterminated and it was evident since some families were extinct.
Others were girls from secondary schools coming to hook pocket money to
satisfy their material yearning.
Bar Tuguma was the noisiest bar near Mbanaki Avenue. The spot advertised it
was a pleasant cartoon in itself. The drawings of servants dressed in skirts and
eyes bigger than balls carrying a heap of brochettes, potatoes bigger than heavy
stones and primuses to the customers that looked caricatures sitting legs apart
raised laughter once you stopped to analyze. The bar was the cheapest. Porters
admired it. Another thing that made it popular was the non stop Congolese beats

29
which some of drunkards danced disorderly. This is where Adama sat alone
taking a bottle of Mutzig. To his unexpectedness, a girl of about seventeen years
dressed in sexy attires stood near him talking to herself.
“My heart jumps as I meet my eyes to yours. Your scent attracts my
worms as I approach you. I am obsessed as the holly virgin meeting Elizabeth. I
need Mutzig.”
“Is it me you are talking to?” He turned on his left side to gaze at her waist
and size.
“Yes… one bottle only.”
“Order it from the barman.”
They drank fondling each other. The cunning girl burrowed her head into his
chest and twisted her arms in his back. Others in Tuguma bar didn’t mind about
the couple. The havoc brought by their dancing Injyaruwa swinging every part of
their body and bottles of beer on their heads helped Adama to cajole her easily.
The girl too gained assurance of pocketing his money. Her anesthesia worked.
She slowly detached herself out of his bosom and went away.
Adama recovered and he went out on short call. He met a waitress who was
coming to throw banana peels. He remembered that he was with a girl. He leapt
over her and grabbed her and forced to undress her.
“Pay me all beers I poured in your wide stomach. If not I will do it myself.
Remove your nothing quickly!” He staggered still seizing her.
“Help…He is raping me.” The waitress shouted.
Her cries alarmed the assembly in the bar to come to her rescue. They found him
wrestling to fell her. He was still holding his soaked pants. The bar mistress could
not bear with that. She was stopped from reporting the case to the police station
by a local defense who winked at her.
Adama was dragged outside Tuguma. He came home zigzagging. God protected
him from falling in the ditches that surrounded Mbanaki road. He might also stub
on the big stones that plastered the gutters from the 1930 prison named to
Gobugonya River.
He only collided with the wall of their ghetto. Inside the house, he lit the lamp and
saw the stains of blood on his shirt. The drunken mind dictated him to go and
have his nose treated. He searched money in his pockets. To his surprise, there
was no single cent in them. His hem woke his roommates.
“What’s up man? You are bleeding!” Asumani showed with sarcasm.
“I don’t mind about bleeding. I am concerned with my money.
“You are becoming a townie.” Kaganga jeered at him as he fetched his
coat to put on.
“Some strong forces drove me maybe. Imagine that I was going to harm
the innocent waitress.”
“That’s the way it is. You are initiated in town life skills.” Kaganga
encouraged him.
“Life skills…?” Adama wiped his nose with his shirt.
“You are not a fan on this land.” Asumani added.

30
 “Shake my five first of all.” Kaganga sneered at him.
4

In no time Adama became popular in football like Kaganga who was a talented
defender and Asumani an expert in goal. Adama’s first skills had been witnessed
when he scored in the game of elimination of the championship of zones that
opposed Jaguar FC and Gitega FC. He did miracles stirring the spectators with
his skilful tactics. His crosses made them excited. They missed the player to
compare to him throughout the zone. From then he was nicknamed the
legendary Pélé of Brazil.
Kaganga’s notorious nature revealed itself not only in the town or in the
playground but it was developed downwards from the secondary school at Nigiha
School. Nigiha was havoc. Those disorders were caused most of the time by lack
of serious school headmasters. Some were opportunist and others were
anarchists. Bad governance caused the students to be loose and unduly. Despite
his detention in barracks for threatening the school security agents, he did not
change his mode of life. Instead, his wickedness and aggressiveness intensified
at Nigiha School.
At school he had a sword and a small hammer. In exams he used to carry it and
cheated freely with his notebook. The redness of his eyes frightened many
teachers. No supervisor dared to approach him even when he could be copying
answers from his crib sheet. In the surrounding of Nigiha complex school, he was
known for he duped traders. Villagers eulogized him as a boy who deserved
prestige. Despite his bad behaviors he played football well. This protected him
from being expelled. He was the author of many inter-school tournaments
trophies that Nigiha won. The school wrote a history in sports because of his
contributions as a captain of the team.

Kaganga caused disorders in their mess room and was becoming a burden to
the master of discipline. He was accused of immorality and fighting. By his
endowed power, he misled many other students into a gangster group named
Serbians. The gang did not discriminate between the sexes for it included a few
girls. The main credo of the group was to cause as much theft as possible to
happen. Theirs were violence, sex and smoking.

Their fortieth day arrived when they attempted to empty all beds that were in the
dormitory. They were hardly arrested. It lasted about twelve hours chasing them
in a game of hide and seeks. Kaganga; the head of the group was taken to
Taramu police station, thirty kilometers from Nigiha secondary school.
In jail he was joined by Asumani who was well known in many catholic
movements. His arrest surprised many students at Nigiha secondary school. He
stole a load of sneakers he gathered from his school mates.

31
Few months of detention, they were released and took to the town where they
first rambled looking for a vacancy. To eat, they were to be porters and
sometimes stole money to buy the ugali and sauce tomatoes for their diet.
As they become integrated, they hired a ghetto to live in. It was among slums
near by Ruhurura (a name given to the wide gutters that transport wastes and
dirty water) of Mamuhi, a warren place in Kigali town. They did not care about the
stench from the garbage and dirty water from 1930 prison. It was that kind of
experience that made Asumani and Kaganga to vegetate on robbing and
snatching the mobile phones that cost much money for they were currently
brought in Rwanda.

CHAPTER FIVE

That Sunday was marvelous. The roads leading to Garakimisa teemed with
many persons coming from Mamuhi ADPR church and the spectators from
surrounding places who were going to Garakimisa stadium. The stadium itself
was big and it received a beehive of activities related to the games and concerts.
By then it was during football tournament between zones that was at its final day.
Many young persons from different zones of Garakimisa, Mamuhi, and Ficyaha
went to the pitch to witness the tactics of the new recruit they have heard about.
The super match was to oppose Jaguar FC and Matatu FC, the classic teams
throughout the area.

It was Adama’s occasion to show off his talents. He vowed before the match that
he would play to his finish sooner than surrender to MATATU FC. His purpose
was to make his team the champion and make the team of taxi men lose the
trophy. The lines up of two teams exhibited. Cheers on Mamuhi side were a lot
booing Matatu and hailing their squad. Ficyaha spectators waved their yellow
and green flag that identified the colors of their team. Mamuhi side too waved
their blue and white flag, the colors of Jaguar FC. What was surprising at the
stadium was the ambiance of songs from the spectators of both teams and a
man who reported the match imitating the eminent sport journalists on local radio
stations.

The match started with speed and determination on each side seeking the lead
of the match. Twenty minutes of the first half were dominated by attacks on both
sides that missed the target. Jaguar played well. Once Adama profited the
defensive blunder, he shot. Many of his shots on were stopped by Matatu goal

32
keeper, dressed in a strange sombrero that Jaguar fans called a potion for goals.
There was hope that JAGUAR might win the cup.

Their hope of success faded when Kaganga received a red card. The reporter
who supported Matatu FC was overjoyed blowing his vuvuzela.

"Olala.....!Olala....! Penalty....! Number eight Gatuso is going to shoot. He

approaches the ball. He shoots oooo....Goal...! » He continued to yell and
coughed and after gaining relief he resumed;

"One null....! End of the first half......Matatu FC one, Jaguar FC zero!

Matatu oyee...!" The reporter animated holding his trumpet and swinging his
mask that looked like a head of a lion.

The second half was for Jaguar to equalize as quickly as possible. Matatu played
the whole half in defense, a game which eased Adama to attack them fiercely to
draw the goal. Despite the effects of nicotine, Adama was still energetic to score.
All passes reached him, but the defense of Matatu impeded him. The goal to
draw came later and it was terrific. On the 38th minute of the match Adama
crossed four players of Matatu and tricked the goal keeper that he was going to
pass his teammate at left wing. Instead, he shot from a distance and the ball
slipped the goal keeper's hands.

Except the reporter who looked at his team awfully, other fans of Matatu joined
Jaguar fans to enjoy the goal. Jaguar in particular embraced one another forming
a circle and waving their cloths. Adama celebrated the goal running in every
corner with his thumb on mouth gesturing to the fans of Matatu to keep quiet. His
side venerated him for his realization. That is the sweetness and power of
football to unite persons rather than antagonizing them. It usually creates a
sense of belongingness to everyone supporting his team, and then Rwanda has
chosen it the agent of socialization to recover unity and heal the wounds left by
the Genocide against Tutsi. Whoever you may be, young or old, philistine or
extremist, Christian or ascetic; football gathered all of them at Garakimisa to
incite their players to win. That day, even the pure Christians like Tina who was
known at Ficyaha ADPR church for her sweet voice and dance while praising the
almighty was fascinated by Adama’s crosses.

In injury minutes when everyone was wondering on which team could win the
cup, Adama created miracles making a goal. It was a far tip-toed shot free kick
that dazed the goal keeper. Matatu FC never lost their hopes of equalizing with
their intensive attacks. Roars of admiration on every side increased to instill
power in their players and the reporter stirred Matatu players as though he was
the coach. The match overwhelmed Adama and his side. If it were not Asumani's
vigilance in the custody they could lose the match. Jaguar was behind to stand
for their bonus goal. At the last minute of extra -time when Jaguar was weary in
their legs, Matatu FC attacked Jaguar fiercely. These attacks affected them when

33
Jaguar counterattacked them. Adama, the hero of the match ran fast with the ball
and robbed the custodian of Matatu, who stood frustrated and mesmerized as
the referee whistled the end of the match. His hat trick....! Much kudos on
Adama....! The whole team and the spectators brought their hands so that
Adama could touch in them.

Next Sunday as usual, the trio went to Ficyaha ADPR church. Their purpose was
to check the Miss Town. They sat behind and followed the pastor's critics about
individualism in the contemporary world. He rapped until his voice became
hoarse.

"You call yourselves children of God carrying Bibles as if you are saints. In
you there is no mercy. Most of you are here for dancing the sweet melodies from
our choirs. You mask God with dark glasses. You mistake Him for the blind not
to see your sins. You are all pretenders and that's why the trial awaits you." The
pastor damned. He took a handkerchief out of his trousers’ pockets and blew his
nose.

The assembly bowed their heads and the emotional convicts started to sob in
their palms. What was sobbing turned into a loud cry of SOS, calling the holly
spirit in unison. It was the period of communion when the congregation talked in
other languages emulating the apostles during the Pentecost. Adama found it
aggressive and murmured a word in Kaganga who was passive to the
situation.

"He says these words as if he too is righteous. If he is not selfish, why has
he brought that bag to collect the offerings from the poor who joined him to find
an asylum?"

"Do not be critical in church my friend" Kaganga warned him.

"Their sermons are admonishing against us. They are not saints of course.
One day I met one of the pastors coming from his second bureau. He was very
drunk still with his Bible, then I wondered if he was the same man of God I knew."
Asumani whispered in Adama’s ears.

"They are panels for us. How many times have you heard prostitutes
complaining because of them? Remember the 1994 dark red scenes, who
mobilized people to chase our relatives? Of course, some pastors and priests in
their preaching sensitized illiterate Hutus on developing animosity. What they
only want is to terrorize us in order to win the sinners' little money. They tell us
the white god dragging us to surrender all to Him as if God needs our money.

34
They profit our history and naive minds to exploit us. It is as if they bewitch their
followers." Adama explained.

The pastor who was teaching earnestly stopped for a little while to arouse the
attention of the audience. The commotion was caused by two girls who were
dressed in mini skirts. Few of women voices would be heard cursing Satan. The
deacons drummed to calm down the situation. It was by then the pastor resumed
his sharp paradoxical teachings.

No prophet in his own land. Even Jesus faced scorn in Nazareth. They ignored
his salvation and still wait for another Messiah. Asumani followed the pastor's
words analytically and failed to control himself. He scratched in Adama's back to
tell him a word.

"This pastor is a womanizer. I know him. It is said that his wife nearly
committed suicide. The reason was that she found him kissing a young lady of
their congregation." Asumani whispered.

Kaganga who kept silent for so long broke the loneliness and gave out his views.

"We are naturally egocentric. Therefore we judge ourselves to be

the exemplary." He declared scratching in his zero- faute beards.

"It is the irony of course. Go in big hospitals, you will find doctors warning
people to fear tobacco, but they are the first to beat record in smoking. They
inhibit people not to drink much beer. When not in church, a few of them
consume liquor as vampires do in their shrines. They liaise themselves to the
women who don't belong to them under the pretext of changing them spiritually."
Asumani accused.

They nearly laughed but held their breath. They were the only persons who
talked lively in the church. They winked at one another to close their mouths and
follow the second sermon.

It was special. The pastor who held the conch was from abroad. He was dressed
in a decently in a strange canonic suit. He had a long cross in his neck that was
the difference. The man was tall and apparently obese. You could hardly
separate his head from the shoulders. Except the cross, you might imagine he
had no neck. His rotund belly stood out of the coat and gave him a leader's gait
according to African expectations. His red eyes however could dictate every body
to confess. According to speculations of some Christians, he was said to possess
supernatural talent to cure various diseases and disabilities. The deaf heard. The
dumb praised the Lord in songs. Cripples would jump after his blessed touch. It
was a blessing to have him in Ficyaha ADPR premises.

35
His lesson, though philosophical, focused on violence and other sorts of crimes
such as domestic strife, prostitution among others. The whole church listened to
the voice of interpreter and followed the lips of the pastor that were dug between
a forest of beards and mustache. His bigness devoured his voice.

"Though you may be stoic, hedonist, skeptic, puritan and Machiavelli due
to the situation, struggle to adjust your psyche so as to chew everything and spit
the harmful rubbish of discords of conformism, totalitarianism, chauvinism,
arrogance, hypocrisy and all sorts of mental or physical torture. Be who you are
but never be a slave of yourself.” He coughed and went on, “Your negative traits
that overwhelm you and prevent you from acting perfectly will one day disappear
if you receive Jesus today. Surrender to God all your heart not for defeat but for
self-respect and humility; because the blessed are those who avoid owning these
earthly treasures temporally."

The three boys who admired this philosophical preaching which they labeled
Situationism looked at one another as the pastor contradicted his sermon shifting
to religious business side.

"He came here with the same motive-neo colonialism to exploit us."
Adama muttered.

The pastor reached the crucial point that made these three boys quiver. They
almost stood up to leave. The doors of the church were immediately slammed by
deacons. As he called upon convicts to step forward, his voice thundered and
everyone in the church stood.

"The holly Spirit shows me murderers, prostitutes and robbers among you.
Break Satan's shackles. Come in front to receive the ointment of purity." The
pastor echoed as he cleaned sweat that soaked his forefront.

Kaganga felt a bit challenged and leant on his knees. On the other side, Adama
and Asumani were mesmerized and short of words. They led to the altar to
repent.

The congregation clapped for them as the pastor ordered all convicts to kneel
and praise the Lord in songs. The whole church closed their eyes and shouted in
different dialects some of which were forged. Adama opened his eyes to see
what was happening. The Pastor was rubbing ointment on people's foreheads.
As he touched the person, he or she immediately fell. Some of the persons he
touched screamed and wept helplessly. His power frightened Adama. He pulled
his roommates' shirts to leave.

They watched the following scenes through the windows. Though persons
fainted, the pastor immediately lifted them up and told them to praise the Lord. A

36
song melted with prayers, drums, kettles, sounds of piano and guitars stirred the
whole church.

Finally, the church ministry ended. It was the turn of the trio to stand aloof and
meticulously select the miss Church as it was their target. The assembly in the
church compound fenced with imiyenzi trees greeted one another. Those who
were bored and hungry did not delay greeting their fellows. By that time beggars,
some of them with no eyes, others with no limbs, others with stunted body
because of hunger surrounded the church leavers asking them support. Some
recognized them and others walked proudly, hands dug in their pockets with their
Bibles in underarms.

Tina’s love to Adama developed still in P6 at Kararu Primary School. The classic
game between MATATU and JAGUAR made it pregnant and it had to be born
again and catered for. That relationship was sparked by his attending the church.

She looked sideways and saw Adama and his delegation departing the mound
where they stood as if counting members of the church. She gathered strength to
pursue them. She whistled them to stop when they were a distance farther.

Adama first heard the whistle and braked. As he turned his eyes behind, he
gestured to ask if it was him she was signaling to stop. She nodded. He stood a
moment waiting for her. His two friends went on walking towards La Fraicheur
Street slowly expecting him to come soon.

She was panting. She sighed. At his sight, she embraced him warmly. Adama
was confused. Tina remarked his confusions and broke the ice to him.

"My name is Tina."

"Nice to meet you….! Mine is Adama."

"I am glad to see you again."

"Have you ever seen me before?"

"Yes...! In that match of the previous Sunday…"

"Aaaaah...! Very good! I could not notice everyone who was there. There
were many people"

37
 "That's it. But you are a skilled player."

"Not at all..."

"By the way, shall I invite you to visit me now?" She requested a little bit
shy.

"I don't mind if it is not far from here."

"It is near. It's over there not beyond two hundred meters behind the
church." She pointed.

At Tina's home, things were warm than ever before. Soft drinks, delicious food
were put on the table for Adama. He too showed refrain by eating slowly. He
gazed at the adornments inside the house. Very nice pictures of Jesus holding
the children hang on the wall. On the opposite wall were sheets of papers
containing poetic words that preoccupied him. She noticed his shyness and
teased him much to eat on that meal. They ate more than thirty minutes talking
about the religious matters.

"God is almighty...." Tina explained.

"Why?" Adama interrupted.

"What he did for us during the April 1994 tragedy."

"Oh....! I always fear that period." Adama reacted.

“You should!” She sniffed her nose and a drop of tear nearly fell.

Adama's conversation almost dried and was no longer speaking. He sympathized

with Tina cooling her. She was then familiar to him as conversation flowed so
easily and friendly.

"Must I know you somewhere? Aren't you from Kararu?” She asked
curiously with a friendly smile.

"Maybe....! Are you from there?"

"It is my village of birth."

"Ah....!" Adama exclaimed hanging his eyes loosely on her attractive face.

"You look Kabeyi's son. That man once saved my mother when a buffalo
led a raid on her."

38
 "He was a good man." He announced with sorrow.

“Is he still alive?”

"He is alone now." He responded with sad mood. They paused and in few
seconds she resumed her inquiry.

"Are you his son?" She stared at him passionately.

He sighed and nodded. She shook his hands again. They wanted to rewind the
film of the past full of tragic events. During this intimate conversation of flashback
from the childhood, in the primary school when Tina used to disturb him, Adama
saw sunsets crossing the yard of the homestead. He stood to leave, but she
reluctantly released him.

Escorting him, Adama might read the traits of friendship in Tina's facial
expression. They walked rubbing each other’s hips. Her emotions made her
clasp her hands in his and they walked hand in hand. Adama disguised himself
by bowing his eyes and looked at her occasionally to analyze her. Whenever
their eyes met, he lowered his and she never ceased to take a glance at him.

She could have progressed up to his location if the electricity would not cut off.
She could not proceed in darkness. She feared the rascals of Mamuhi. She
shook hand with him to say good bye and she missed words. She grabbed it and
sighed. In low tone, she said,

"Am I really going to leave you?"

"We shall meet again."

She could not believe it. Tears rolled round her lovely cheeks. Adama removed
his handkerchief and dried them.

"Will you show me where you live?" She begged.

"Do not fall in quagmire of worries. Your application shall be replied."

In that darkness, people who passed by them first stood and sneaked them. Others took
furtive looks at them before proceeding with their journey. She too dug her head into his
bosom so as to provoke him to plant a kiss on her lips. The smell of his mouth dominated
by the sewage of smoking made him refrain. Though good bye a sad word, she finally
pronounced it.

39
He arrived home a changed boy. He was humming some tones of Blue Group
music. He was so pleased that his friends became eager to listen to the story of
his journey. He gave a storyline of his journey in the Christian homestead event
by event.
“Proceed with that one. She loves you.” Asumani encouraged Adama.
“No I don’t want her.”
“Why do you turn aside that offer from God? You are a child indeed.”

“I am not. My bad habits can’t allow. I think if it were you, you couldn’t love
a convicted Murokore like her.”
“Never mind…! She needs love. Just remember how she ran after you. My
friend, do as you would be done to.”
“She is very Christian.”
“You have refused the gift while you go to buy death in those harlots of
Biziriko infected by that insect of four letters.” Kaganga added to emphasize that
he was not the onlooker.
“I will trick her and make love with her. The problem is that she will pray
for me and then I die like that driver who gave a lift to the nun so as to rape her.
His car finally collided with the tree, then the unduly guy died.”
“Beware son of …! Do not disappoint her for she deserves prestige. How
many girls can behave like her and claim their love to you?”
“Let me tell you some thing I was thinking of recently.” Adama proposed
as a way of changing the subject of discussion.
“What is it?” Asumani inquired.
“Technology…!”
“What kind of technology?” Kaganga asked.
“The smart card to draw money from BCDI’s money machine…”
“Very good of you…! You are a technician. No security agent will even
discover our technology. ” Asumani praised his idea.
“I am exhausted. Let us go to cover our shame. We will discuss about it
tomorrow.” Kaganga who was dozing said as he thudded himself on the
mattress.

CHAPTER SIX

She was sitting on the ditch near their compound. She appeared to be in
low spirits. She leant there wiping the dust from her legs. As she turned her eyes
ahead on the left side, she found Adama with a beautiful girl dressed in a tight
piece of trousers and high heeled shoes. Adama’s arms were wrapped round the
shoulders of that light skinned girl. Suddenly Tina’s face loomed out of the anger.
She lugged her height and moved around in short measured steps as if studying
tactics to intrude in that couple. As she stood up to cross the road, she found

40
Adama swinging his waist emulating one musician and the girl did likewise
laughing loudly.
To his surprise as he looked round, he saw Tina with a scarf round her
neck in sad mood loitering. He braked and waved at her. Her fuming
overwhelmed and you could read it from her facial expression that she was
surely offended. She stormed in the road to greet him jealously. In her rush, the
motorbike missed her ankles.

Finally, she embraced Adama without taking into account the other skirt
beside him.
“I missed you darling!” She sighed.
“I was busy. But I was thinking about you.” He cheered her.
“Really...?” Tina winced.
“Yaah...!”
“Today I want you to show me where you live.”
“Be it as you wish. Welcome….!”
“Can we go now? I will also beg you something as soon we arrive home.”
“Which one?”
“Your photo….”
“Don’t worry!” He said as he fumbled something in his pocket and winced,
“I am sorry sister.”
“For what?”
“Going home won’t be able today.” He excused himself tapping lightly on
her shoulders.
“Why? Is it because of this one?” She protested.

The idea to ask him what he was dealing with that girl with elegance and
modern habits might be read on her face. Where could she start? Adama
guessed that something was not going her. He waited her to burst, but she
instead cried waving good bye reluctantly blowing her nose.

Come what may, she wanted to know why he was walking with other
skirts. A solution was found in her writing techniques. She read every sentence
on the pink paper to find if there was shocking words. When she finished
proofreading, she re-read the letter again loudly to herself.
“My very dear friend Adama, I am sad happy to have been loving you
while you don’t care. I hoped you could hardly hurt me. What I have seen taught
me a lesson. Let me ask you one thing-Why in the name of Jesus you want to
trouble me by loving that b….? Forsake them and count on my evergreen love. I
promise you that you will never regret.
You have chosen well. If you could enter my heart and see my love, you
should not hurt me as you are doing these days. You are still the only boy I love
and I want to devote my heart to forever. Let me love you and make you the one

41
I cherish. If you abandon me, who else shall I lean on? I enclose. Whenever you
are, do cope with my tender heart full of love.
Yours forever,
Tina.”

In the cockcrows she was awake. No moonlight was out. The night was
cold. Dark clouds swallowed Mamuhi area. Where she stood on the verandah
watching the angry mist of clouds of rain remembered about sad events
happened in the same month, May, the 15 th 1994 when her mother and siblings
ceased their lives to the ruthless slaughters. She was scared that her love for
Adama could be darker than that weather. No sooner than she was opening her
umbrella to leave that it started raining cats and dogs. The storm rumbled. The
lightning flashed as if an invisible person was snapping her. Thunderbolt cracked
like the shouting of heavy armor. Love too rumbled in Tina’s heart and she was
burning as a furnace. To blow out those nostalgic emotions, she stormed in the
rain.

Adama noticed her signaling when he was puffing. He felt ashamed and
missed the path for an escape. He gathered his courage and led to where she
stood waiting for him wiping his and picking his teeth.
“You come in rain. You must be looking for me.”
“Yes…I have a message for you. But beware!”
“For what…?”
“Smoking is bad for your health.” She warned and Adama missed the
words to plead for his behavior accepting fully the mistakes. Tina kept on her
admonish,
“You keep on impaling my heart with your bad behaviors. Love my life and
particularly yours and abandon smoking. Failure lung cancer and brain damage
wait for you.” She concluded her lurid caution over him.
“I know and it is hard for me to reject my habit. For the sake of your advice
I am going to try.”
“You better change your attitudes. If it is not, you will learn after time. O.K!
See you next time!” She said as she lurched after passing the bundle to him
He read it word by word making a critical analysis as if it was a poetic letter in
figurative language. As he finished one line he pulled his beards and scratched in
his shaven head. He found it risky. He ought not to brag about it.
Tina was well built with medium size. The smoothness of her body was
admirable once you greeted her. It seemed every second she applied the
moisturizer. Her shallow breasts were a quality and they were luscious.
Therefore Adama was at logger heads with his friends who wanted him to
choose Tina. He continued to argue raising a debate of that evening when they
surrounded their tiny table for supper letting forks on the plates that let a scent
that might invite appetite.

42
 “The beauty does not count in terms of love during this period of twenty,
twenty. Manny boys count on beauty of legs. So what..! Legs are nothing.
Essential are legs to walk with. Breasts that are needed are the ones which can
nourish the baby. A good nose is the one which captures breath storing oxygen
and letting out the carbon. We lose our time checking the above like those snub-
nosed militants who exterminated our fellows accusing them not to belong to
MRND. Girls are developed in love these days. They know well to exploit our
economy like the western during colonization. This reminds me the saying of a
monkey whose cub was stolen because of a small cob that was thrown to her.”
He defended himself against the pressure from his roommates and he scooped a
mouthful of the food.
“There is truth in what you say. Girls no longer consider those boundaries
of ethnics. They need husbands and sugar daddies, but Tina is not of those
parasites that dash in feeding themselves on chicken.” Asumani argued
loosening his belt.
“I don’t mind if she might taste on skewer. Unfortunately she is
complicated. I expect to test her by asking her a snap of her birth day suit. I hope
she won’t put up with my tabooed propositions. Tomorrow I will put her on trial.”
Her sibling reconciled with her in guiding her technically once she found
her sitting alone. Using parental advice and Rwanda’s sour experiences, she
cautioned Tina to pay attention in her friendship with boys.
“You know boys of nowadays are somehow hypocrites. They no longer
want to get married. Their sole purpose is to lay illegitimate child wherever they
pass; bastards as our forefathers called them. This country of ours still
undergoes the problems linked with poverty, genocide that left many orphans
and lack of trust among us. I am not preaching you to discriminate our enemies
or hate boys because they are beasts. It is not good. What I tell you is to take
care of yourself.” Tina’s sister advised and her forefront shined with wisdom as
she moved her chair near Tina so as to whisper something in her ears. She too
obeyed and she paid attention as she quickly expressed her views.
“I control myself. I swear that I will avoid sexual intercourse until I get
married. I don’t want to increase burdens from the unwanted pregnancy and
AIDS pandemics. In addition, sex making creates paranoia in the mind and lack
of freedom when one is discarded by the society like those untouchables of the
India.”
4
They were talking for about thirty minutes. It was a bright night with the
moon that spread its beams over them. He wooed her and they chuckled with
joy. As the full moon, their mood at the moment reflected the flames of mutual
interaction that pleased Tina. Suddenly, the situation became intricate when the
moon escaped through the smoky clouds towards Mwabuta Mountains. A
change in the sky transformed Adama into another creature.
“You withheld me with romance for so long, but this is the time. I am going
to disgrace you if you refuse.” He barked at her struggling to plant a kiss on her
lips and twisting his arms round her loins.
“Don’t you love me?” She nagged with fear.

43
 “What…?”
“Hurry…”
“You say? Repeat it again.”
“I love you and I don’t see why you hurry in this way.” She said in low
humble voice griping Adama’s hands that touched him on the belly.
“What is love by the way?”
“You know I love you and I have told you the consequences of this act you
want to indulge me in. I am not mean but…”
“I don’t want your words. Remove your foolish nothing for the sake of your
love and life.” He threatened as he set to fell her on the soil.
“Release me. My Jesus….! Are you being mad?” She struggled to free his
hands out of her waist elbowing him in vain like a caged mouse.
“Remove. Hurry up! I am not joking.” He thundered at her.
“Don’t you see these persons around here?” She sobbed as she strived to
tighten her in-between legs.
“No claim, remove or I do it by myself.”
“Adama, do you love me or you need….”
“I say one, two, and three…Re-mo-ve- or I show you!” He yelled.
“I am going to scream and you will be sentenced to death.”
As she uttered the word death, Adama paused and shook his head to
manifest his anger and defeat. He stood two or three decimeters beside her. Tina
stood opposite him amazed and worried adjusting her skirts.
He was not contended. He resumed his aggressiveness.
“Now, not later than Thursday, today is Tuesday, I need your snap with
your bare chest or you choose between the two; either to go with me in
Panafrique dancing hall or to give that photo I requested.”
“Jesus!”
“If you fail, we will meet each other in that heaven of yours if it really
exists.” He waved at her in disgust so as to shelter from the drops of drizzling
rain. Tina too scattered on the other side running as fast as she could.

BROKEN HEARTS
CHAPTER SEVEN

No longer at ease as Achebe wrote. Tina’s sister went on keeping an on

her. Adama too added pain to the sores of injuries from unrequited love. She
wrote him about five letters begging him to ease his propositions. The guy stayed
firm. He pressed her to answer quickly. Tina found herself in dilemma. She
obeyed her sibling and yet she wanted to keep alive her trust to her idol.
“I must go and talk to him. I know he can either change or not. I will even
deduct a little amount of money on my salary to make him happy. Yes, I hope his

44
anger will cool. Our love will be rekindled.” She talked to herself in a low voice
supporting her head on the huge pillow then later; she resumed her speech in a
loud voice as if complaining to somebody.
“My heart swells with love. I am waiting for my recovery. That day I will
relish on the deliciousness of erotic emotion and affection emanating from
Adama. If he comes back, I will not feign indifference to his wish anymore. That
day of mea-culpa…! When will it come to delete my long craving for love?”
That day did not delay. It was a lovely day at the beginning of the dry
season on the sacrament. The day was embellished by the sunrises that shone
at her. The scenery far beyond the peak of Kigali outskirts was adorned by
various colors of sprinkled flowers. There was no dust. The day marked the
wedding ceremony of one of Tina’s choir mates. Her grand sister was an
important guest. She dressed herself attractively for that special duty of best
woman and her duty was to care for the bride removing flecks of dust or any
other kind of dirt on the queen.
At first Tina nagged so that they might leave together. She was only
pretending. She was swooned by her departure. No sooner than her sister left
that she prepared herself by buying a bottle of primus and sent a messenger to
Adama.
He appeared in the entrance of Tina’s compound dressed in his sombrero.
He was a bit changed. He was not in jeans as he almost often did. He could be
mistaken for a tycoon seeing how he walked step by step shaking his keys to
manifest his gait of a rich person. He ventured to be mature. As he knocked, Tina
who had been peeping through the door’s glass after hearing footsteps outside
became overjoyed. A furtive smile formed on her lips. Her heart churned with
emotion. She missed the way to open and no words came except a salute of a
tender grin as she wrestled with the door wide open.
Adama was a little paved. Tina’s huge and kisses on the cheek ensured
him that little by little, he could exploit her as he had been longing for that.
“Happy to hear, that I may come and talk to you without interference. So
here I am. I hope you have taken a decision. Are you ready?” He addressed her
with boldness as he bowed to sit down. By then Tina noticed a fleck on his head
as he removed the sombrero. She gently picked it out of his well shaven hair and
she whispered in his ear,
“Don’t expect miracles. I only wanted to take a glance on you sweet….”
“Why do you fear to pronounce it? It’s the reality.”
“Really…?” She inquired with a smile of triumph.
“Get ready and we go for a ride. Don’t deny me that chance.” He lured her.
“Just wait a moment and I get something to clear out dust from your
throat.” She requested humbly raising her eyes to the sign of alluring him to the
offer.
She zeroed in the room and brought the big bottle with yellow stars on its
label that filled Adama with pleasure. He received it with appetite. He busied
himself with that bottle, gulping its content to quench his thirty. Its deliciousness
made him forget that Tina went to take bath.

45
 Her appearance from the bathroom made him dazed. Except the towel
that wrapped her breasts and the respectful area of shame, laps were exposed.
At her sight he fixed his eyes on her, staring every trace of her beauty. His
feelings towards her emerged from admiration to adoration and arson of lust. He
put down the bottle and moved the chair near her then blurted to her,
“Your chest and every thing of yours make me long you physically. I was
obsessed by that patrimony you have hidden me for so long.” That time he
chewed the mouthful of the swallowed drink nodding because of a mixture of his
favorite drink and a girl of his yearning. Tina was worried by his gaze as she
shyly told him,
“Please, close your curious eyes.” She proudly hid her eyes not to meet
Adama’s and she quickly led to her bed. He gulped on that cherished bottle and
took furtive glances on her where she was applying lotion on her body. Through
his admiration he murmured something.
“Tina you are beautiful! From today onwards, I am going to show you
love.”
She heard him and she winced then answered back to him’
“I hope you are not flattering me. Any way I am grateful.” She grinned with
satisfaction. She closed the windows and moved the curtain to avoid tempting
Adama who was completely carried away by each movement of hers since she
took lotion from the drawer.
Their house was of medium size. Its windows manifested signs of novelty
for the glasses were not soot covered like the old roofed houses of ancient model
found in Mamuhi quarter. Inside was blue painted, that color of hope that awoke
Adama’s expectations of evil plans.
Tina dressed herself inside the room. She made stead movement and
removed the curtain that sealed the window’s glass to peep at Adama. She
smeared the powder on her face and made her lips with a lip stick.
Exhibiting out walking majestically, she was the miss for the ceremony.
She was the sun and one could bask on her to absorb the warmth of her
incomparable attire. She was prettier than before. Adama became mesmerized
as if he was dreaming. Was she Tina he used to meet carrying the bible? He
couldn’t stand telling her his satisfaction and appreciation.
“Tina, your beauty makes me shudder. You look smart. The lotion you
were applying in that room of paradise is special. Your fragrance has spread all
over here. Move and I see if it fits.” He howled with laughter.
She made little steps then looked behind to beam to Adama. She pleaded,
“If God might grant my wish so that you might truly love me.”
“Be it as you wish. I said it and I am ready to take an oath. Our sunrises
will always light for us more than this sun above us and no sorrow once we live
together. Trust me and expect for the best.”
It was about one PM when they set to leave. This time her nephew woke
up carrying his clothes. He was nagging. He became so fretful.
“I am going with you aunt.”
“Cool down baby. Take this coin and I will bring you a packet of biscuits”
Tina calmed the child.

46
 “You will also give me a new toy aunt.” The child pampered.
“Whatever you need…” She ensured.
Adama who had been assisting the event told to Tina,
“Children are innocent. They have a fawning mind. They are not only
cooled by lullabies, but simple items satisfy them. They are angels. I wish I could
be like them.”
“There is no escape. Our environment influence and corrupt us turning us
into beast men gradually as we grow up.” Tina argued.
She went back in the room and stood in front of a huge mirror to wipe any
stain on her face. Being satisfied, she took her bag and locked the door. She also
closed the fence and walked proudly with Adama.
Though she was going to enjoy life, the lack of empathy to the little one
dictated her to return. On the other hand it was an occasion to break the
shackles and pioneer on the cosmopolitan places of Kigali that was starting to
recover from the demolition of some infrastructures harmed by the former
regime.
It was marvelous. How wonderful to walk in the pilgrim way with the one
you endear! These were the seasons of love for Tina. They walked hand in hand
from Mamuhi, a hot bed for rascals and congestion. By then it was not
overcrowded apart from the women who roasted the peanuts for selling around
the street. They continued and passed many bars surrounding Yamaha Avenue
such as chene vert, bar 6/6 hours. Adama’s target was Panafrique bar in the
center of Kigali town.
At Yamaha bus stop, things became upside and down. Tina was
threatened by the sight of their pastor with a load of apostolic books with a huge
bag. Her heart throbbed and she nearly fainted. The pounding of her heart could
even be heard afar and she wrestled to twist round Adama for refuge.
“Here comes a pastor! You misled me.” She protested.
“Why do you bother about him? He is a human being. I strongly believe
that he grew up through youth.” He calmed her still gripping her hand
successfully.
“I do beg you to free me. Cover me so that he can’t find me. I know he can
gossip that he had seen me and plot me to my sister.”
“You are under my umbrella.”
The pastor crossed the crossroads going to Sozigi in hurry without looking
behind to mind about people who were walking along the road. When he was a
distance near the seventh day Adventist church of Mamuhi behind Yamaha
Building, Adama queried her,
“Why do you fear these pastors? Is there any crime to be with me?”
“You don’t know the control of those pastors. They grudge us to know our
discipline. Any time you are caught with a non Christian; the pagan as they
preach, and if he is a male, they send you a delegation.”
“Do you impress someone in your beliefs and communion with God?”
“Of course, I am mature, but to some extent I need a guide.”
“From those pastors, who use you as tools through which they earn their
daily bread to raise mansions while you are starving.”

47
 “They are men of God; our eyes in darkness and they lead us”
“They are needed for the best of our community. They leave their ears
open to pick what does not concern them. Man is a leader of himself or herself.
He or she knows his or her weaknesses and strengths. Do you believe
somebody can change your nature without your wish?”
“No…! Their sharp sermons affect me and unconsciously I am forced to
follow them. They are not like that Hebrew, that democrat.”
“Their aims are materials not your souls. There is no way they can gain
without turning you into full blinds.”
Panafrique was perfectly built inn that might attract customers. Built on the
peak of the mountain, once in it you might stare angrily at Sozigi genocide
memorial site and Kiruka police shelters. In that month cars packed there
carrying the persons who came to honor theirs in that memorial site where the
fire of hope always shined for 100 days that carnage lasted, disgraced by the
murderers. Panafrique was adorned from the entrance up to the kitchen by
drawings from the artists, plain illustrations of persons toasting, some pictures of
adverts of imported spirits such Guinness is good for you ,Primus
Gahuzamiryango, and the pictures of famous Europeans clubs like Barcelona,
Arsenal FC ,Ac Milan and Manchester United. Many cars parked there and one
might think that every person in Kigali owned a vehicle of his own. Inside the inn
were the multitude of sugar daddies and their partners of low age. The small
rooms of Panafrique were lovers’ dens. Waitresses were ushering couples with
smile and their smartness, hospitality and love allured the customers. The whole
inn was full. It was the season of grasshoppers as they call these young pretty
girls from secondary schools who are easily tempted by mature men with wives.
Tina set her feet in bar once in life. She felt a stranger in that place. She
relapsed into silence as she stared the movement and atmosphere in the inn
where televisions broadcast the pop music of US singers. Her face was riddling
with guilt and she felt the impulse dictating her to stand and leave secretly, but
she could not dare forsake Adama alone.
Life goes well when one is in shared love. Being single is a hell of an
individual. It turns into a furnace of frustration and grief when you love the one
who does not understand you. This was not the case. They sat together and they
were sharing the roast fish in a wonderful symphony. She profited and took a
slice of fish and fed Adama as if feeding a baby of 6 months. He too did likewise
and they exchanged glances as true bosom friends. Through that wonderful
moment, Tina failed to hide her sentiments.
“Nothing is good like having a real friend.”
“Why?”
“It gives the hope for a rosy future.”
“How…?
“When you are exploring God’s scenery of blooming flowers, it becomes
the lost paradise. Besides, one forgets the obscene past we encountered.”
“That’s it. But we can’t reject it. We correct our present using the
disappointing past we passed through.”

48
 Nearly the whole inn was agitated. Bottles of gins and other spirits were
falling down letting the cracking that alarmed Tina. Some drunken persons were
bewildered until they started to dance vigorously. Others gained that mess then
fondled one another. Those in the dancing arena bedeviled the arena trampling
on one another. The waitresses wrestled with them to pick the bottles and
ordering them to pay their bills. Those who were completely soaked staggered
out for short call and laid flat there. Adama was a bit drunk. He forgot the dignity
of Tina and fished a cigarette out of his pocket then lit it with his automatic
firelighter. Tina was caught by anger and snatched it out his mouth. Seeing him
smoking again made her pale. Adama did not protest. Instead he entered the
arena and started to dance. He saw it hard to dance alone while he brought the
mistress to boast of. He rushed to Tina and pulled her towards him. She resisted.
“Please, let me free.”
“It’s too early to go. If you don’t want to dance I will order other soft drinks
for you.” He whispered into her ears.
“That kid!” She reminded him.
“Oh!” He sighed.
Her nephew was bad-tempered. He was an island of his own for about five
hours. To her sight, he cried.
“My biscuits and toys…Where are they aunty?”
“Here they are and do not tell mummy that someone came here” She
cautioned that small boy of about five years cradling and covering him with a
coat.
“I won’t aunty” The child promised her dancing in every direction for
congrats.
Adama who was going to his ghetto stood and wondered a short while. He
talked to himself,
“Why didn’t I reward her kiss?”
He felt the powerful push of libido. Suddenly, he returned and led to Tina’s
homestead to cool his envy. Near the fence, he mumbled to himself.
“I was going to be an idiot. I was losing myself and this was an opportunity
I wasted. Let me suppose like a mathematician. Suppose she accepted to sit in
that empire of culprits without complaints. How can she bereave pleasure to his
boo?” He stumbled on the rock and nearly fell down. He grumbled to himself
again,
“What a bad luck! This left foot of mine can’t bring me something good. I
wish I could go back. I won’t win her. Any way, let me force the destiny and avoid
superstitions.” He complained as he rubbed onto the shoes.
He knocked on the door of entrance. She first let him. In her mind, she
wondered on who was knocking at that moment. Their family was hardly visited
beyond seven o’clock in the evening. As she went to peek to the stranger, a male
voice called her.
“Tina, open for me. I am coming back to tell you something.” He implored
in a quivering voice. She first kept quiet and she cringed in terror uttering, “Who
are you?”

49
 “Adama….” He bellowed adamantly pushing the fence open.
“You must be a swindler. I won’t open for you. I know the tricks of townies.
You come here to dupe me. I know your ruse.”
“I beg you Tina, open for me. I am not spending much time here. I am not
pretending to fool you.”
She opened and ushered him in the lounge. He was trembling. The chill of
the rain was awful. In his chattering of teeth, he wailed,
“I am very sorry that I am coming back.”
“Don’t worry! But bear with me for a short time so that I can fry the meal.
Feel free. Let me switch on this TV set and I hope there must be an important
game.” She suggested leading to where the tool was laid.
“Thank you!”
Tina in the kitchen prepared everything fast. Within a short while, she was
carrying plates full of rice and green vegetables. They shared the dinner in a
dead silence. Adama looked depressed and anxious. Engulfed in silence, they
ended the food. Tina first thought that the small child interfered with him, and
then as soon as they finished eating, she undressed the child and led him to bed.
The introduction of his request made him feel disgraced.
“Dear, I forgot to t-t-tell you….”
“What? Tell me darling, I am ready to listen to your sweet voice.” She
coaxed him.
He paused and after an interval of seconds he cleared his throat. He
broke his silence then said,
“I want to kiss you.”
She was dumb found. Adama too was as if wasps stung him. He started to
force on cajoling her. She watched his all actions without protest. Later he
returned to his question thinking that she didn’t listen to him. She was almost
caught. She woke up with blurs in her eyes. She looked at her future -to –be
husband with an angry look that made him scared.
“It’s once. I will never ask this again.” He insisted with a shrilled voice like
the child begging something.
“Are you being mad? Since when have I told you that it is impossible?
Maybe you have sold your ears.” She rebuked him.
“Just today…! This evening only…!” Adama bleated as he approached the
wall to turn off the power.
“I could answer your silly question, but….”
“Oh no…! Don’t say no because I can be mad.” He intervened to
emphasize the seriousness of his wish.
“It is a sin. In addition, we can endanger ourselves with HIV virus. Next I
am in bad time.” She confirmed firmly shoving him away.
Adama pursued her, pulling her pull over to plant a kiss on her lips. She
wrestled to free herself from his grip. He felt a lump of anguish gnawing him and
he wailed in tears.
“Why do you shun me honey? You don’t want to cure my sores of love?”

50
 “Because, you are only keen on sex, I cannot surrender to you. First of all,
I don’t know your HIV/AIDS status. I don’t even know mine. Even when I can
accept I am not sure you can afford to bring up the child we can get.”
“I will not impregnate you.” He pleaded.
“Don’t continue to tempt me. What will you do then? Any way do you have
some umbrellas; I mean preservatives.”
“Sorry! I forgot them at home. Please give me some ten minutes so that I
can go to buy them in Hope clinic.” He said with eagerness as he set to fly.
“Stop…! I wanted to test your level of commitment. It’s your habit to sleep
with other women without even using a condom. If you really love me, go and
wait for the ceremony of marriage.”
“No! I beg you. Today only and God damn me if I ever ask you again.” He
besought her.
“Don’t indulge me in sin. I swore to keep my dreams true.”
Grasped by the anger, he leapt to fell her. She too noticed his violence and
shoved him with her elbow. Emotion smothered her and sobbed bitterly. He
yowled clasping his hands over her mouth. Tina’s sobs broke into loud cries that
hollered him. He was waned and thought on the trials that might arise. He wiped
her tears apologizing,
“I wasn’t meant for it.”
“Remember it has been the second time you…” She avoided
pronouncing the whole sentence.
“Sawa…! Good bye!” He declared somehow stunned.
“I hope you are not booking me a red card. I am still yours. My refusal is a
benefit for both of us.” She was embarrassed as she explained her views to him.
He left with much wrath. Tina stayed seated in the sofa watching the film.
Her brain was not on the flashed pictures on the screen. Instead, she wondered
the end of Adama’s treacherous love that could end up I immorality and
pregnancy. Dealing with all those traps, she fell asleep in the sofa. She would
have slept at the place if it were not the gun bolts from the film that awaken her.

BROKEN HEARTS
CHAPTER EIGHT

It was Sunday in the evening. That Sunday was not like other Sundays
for it had its particularity. The sunsets disappeared on the Peak of Bwimo
Mountain letting scarlet lays. The weather was sunny. People who were
sheltering themselves from the scorching sun of the day went out their houses to
stretch their limbs and consume the breeze of the wind left by that jeopardizing
dusk. The redness of the sky frightened Tina. She recalled what the ancestors
talked about such natural phenomenon. Such redness emerged as a herald of
the forthcoming turmoil such as drought, bareness and other terrible events to
happen. The appearance of the sky was a copy and a paste of the dusk of April,
12th 1994 when the cloud turned into scarlet rays showing the empathy with the

51
innocent souls that were being chased, cut off heads and whole parts of body
because of the way they were shaped.
Despite the heat of that day, the road was full of persons. Some were
speeding to the film in Yanga cine club. Others were coming from Amahoro
National stadium to watch an important game that opposed two big teams;
Rayon Sports FC and the army side. Ululations, sounds of drums, cans and roars
of victory on the side of Rayon sports fans engulfed the whole area. This derby
left the blue and white club the first. Rayon’s fans waved their flags leading to
Koromboka bar. This bar was built near the gutter. Persons enjoyed sipping their
drinks in that bar because of hot ambiance there. Apart from the ambiance and
sophisticated waiters and waitresses who attracted the customers, the meal and
drinks were cheap compared to other big bars.
La Fraicheur Street was dominated by the squeezing of cars, fans, young
girls and boys walking hand in hand and Mayibobo scrambling for the garbage
from Koromboka. That Sunday, the pickpockets feasted for that occasion. They
snatched money and other articles. They escaped freely. Every one was agitated
and the one who might stop them was Tina but she watched at them passively.
On that Sunday, the lazy among the street children lingered in the gutters
dazing with the sniff of glue. Something astounded Tina. A police van parked. No
sooner than it parked that the street children made their feet even the ones who
reeked with glue strolled through the dirt bridges to escape their arrest.
Something must have been behind their running away; she thought. Tagatagi
rehabilitation and reformatory camp… Mayibobos didn’t want to stay chained in
vocation and manual work. Even the few who ended up joining the camp failed to
cope with the new life that appeared complicated to them and they chose to
escape in order to come back into their miseries that they embraced. For a street
child, once in town, never leave it. Even though they fed on nothing, the noise
from the non stopping music, the chain of different marks of cars and the
congestion of various persons going into the affairs filled them with a feeling of
peace through their idleness. They preferred stinking ditches for houses and
cartoons for beds to their homelands. They swore not to go back in countryside
or in their families due to domestic strife, lack of care and parentless condition for
some of them whose families passed away in the tragedy and chose to find an
asylum in a world of addiction.
It was not strange that they saved themselves. They feared boots badly
whatever company they worked for. Their running coincided with that of the
hawkers, who were alongside the street selling their articles of clothing like t-
shirts, jeans, hats, sexy skirts and others who brooded on the baskets filled with
bananas, avocadoes, pineapples, vegetables, fish or any other kind of
combustible things. The local defense forces in their mauve uniform from the van
stormed in the crowd chasing street children and hawkers in all directions making
them scatter their fruits on the paths. The place was completely changed into big
havoc. Persons trampled on one another, some punching others to edge their
passage. Children in the backs of the women who sold banana, avocadoes cried
hollering for rescue. The only reason for the security agents to solve a problem
by another was that the city could always be clean. None of these women denied

52
that the town premises must always be clean. The victims among these women
occupied a great number and they got survival whenever they turned round the
town with articles and baskets of fruits.
In that chaos, Tina found his friend Adama strolling with another girl. The
girl was dressed in sexy clothes and her attires left signs of resignation and
disappointment to Tina. She looked dazed and jealous as she searched an isle to
intrude Adama and that girl. The crowd suffocated the whole street. She darted
forward running on the opposite side of the street to overtake them. She gained
comfort as she noticed it was Carine, her old friend in Kararu Primary school.
She drew back home letting the melancholy from the chased souls and hoped
Carine to visit her no matter what might happen.
As soon as she arrived home, she drenched herself in a sofa sighing and
she hang her eyes on poetic words that were on one of portraits posted on above
the door and her mind wandered far away on Adama. When her mind was far
away on Adama’s lack of seriousness and manic depression, she heard a knock.
It was Carine as she expected. A sudden anger caught her, but she struggled to
cover it and opened for Carine. She was not willing to talk. It is Carine who first
spoke to fill in the gap of silence.
“Sha…! Life is complicated in this town especially for us who are jobless.”
“I heard that you have a casual work somewhere.”
“Not now…I had it sometime in the previous month.”
“Do hunt for another one even when it may be the casual one. You know
something is better than nothing. Never depend on granted things. They are
temptations to death.”
“Of course, but I can’t refuse a gift any time I happen to find it.”
“The problem is that their proprietors oblige. Love today equals to
materialism. It is a game of barter.”
“Yes…Money talks. Nowadays money and objects of value matter rather
than the individual himself. That is the real world of Coulomb’s earth. We are
living our present.”
“That is hypocrisy. I don’t favor it.”
“It’s your view point and you are right. Once upon a time, I used to think
like you. With time the world has changed me.”
“How…? Do not tell me you side yourself with these current teeth pullers
as it is said by boys.”
“If one comes and coaxes me with articles, I accept them and later guard
myself cunningly.”
“Why can’t you love one for the future spouse?” She questioned with a
frown.
“No interests …Who told you to get married without tasting on the life.
Even when it may be so, better love one in many. Maybe these accessories
afford you with fortunes. That is how jobless like me live. Do you think I can lose
my paint as though I have no tantalizing figure? I know where poverty from
genocide left me and my mother. What she cannot afford, some stupid boys
provide for them.” She declared in man assured tone.

53
 Though Tina found it strange, Carine spoke from the truth. The love of the
time was calculated and boys with no money remained the on-lookers watching
couples with money passionately and grudgingly. One question was persistent in
the youth; who would access to the everlasting love if money is put on the
forefront of every thing? If love as counted according to the number of gifts you
sent to someone and times you took her to the hotel or the beach to relax and
enjoy life, how would the solid and trustful family would be founded?
Tina too was among the ones who were sensitive to this materialism. Her
encounter with Carine served her a good moment to denounce that through
Carine.
“We are human beings. We should not replace materials to our life. You
suck money from boys calling it a luxury without considering the toil they pass
through gathering money. Beware …! One day you will pay them.”
Tina reacted against Carine’s idea that girls could exploit boys. Carine
defended her motto to prove how right she was.
“Don’t think like a child. Do you think the words like I love you make
sense? Why do you need food? The answer is very simple.”
“Why not to eat so as to live?”
“Exactly…! In love, such condiments must be added to make it enjoyable.
Therefore, love of today is totally different from that of the ancient times. It is
dynamic and has new perspective. Love walks in cars, love needs good life by
being carefree. If not it cannot even be an adventure.” Carine convinced Tina.
This time she was trying to move her hands sideways to emphasize the
seriousness of what she was advancing.
“Well, keep on that. Remember, you grasp all and finally you lose all. In
addition, one man’s meat is another’s poison! My salary is enough for me. I
cannot find words to sway men.” She refused shaking her head.
“Tina, the world is evolving. There is no harm loving many boys. Gather
as many as you can and pick the one you can trust and others become the
drafts. So broaden your management inner capacity and don’t cling to one boy
like these village girls. For example I have about ten boys that I promised love,
but it does not mean I fell for them hundred percent.” At the moment she wore
wrinkles and she said this through her nose as if she was about to pout.
“Carine never blame rural girls. They still keep our cultural values. The
urban girls are strange.”
“We are modern indeed. If you knew the race of men after me…Do you
know some stupid men sell their plots for gaining money to entice me?”
“Really…?”
“Yes, I remember one of the tycoons who are always alluring me. He tries to
give me whatever I need in order to mislead me. I deny him what he needs
politely. I am aware that the virus has no vaccine and that it spreads easily. What
surprises me is that star Adama who introduced himself to me.”
“What do you say? Adama loving you…!” She was grasped with pangs of
jealousy in her voice as her face reddened with furry.
“Your reactions reveal to me that you are in love with him.”

54
 “I have seen you with him. From now onwards, put into you that he is my
number one. I am not blowing my own trumpet, I hope.” She commanded
pointing the finger at her.
“God forbid it! I can’t blacken my self- esteem siding with that rascal.
However well he may play or however perfect you love him, he is not a good guy
as his poise reveals it. Don’t put your beauty and kindness into ruin. Big robber,
smuggler, adulterer and a swindler that every one suspects! Nearly all the
whores of this Mamuhi can witness his black stick.”
“You are slandering him, so that you can grasp him. I am still awake. I will
sensitize him to heed to people like you who scatter embers of hatred that glow
into animosity.”
“May God send thunder to lash me dead if I long Adama? I wish I didn’t
tell you about him fully.” Carine regretted her warning to Tina.
It took her time to coerce her to avoid the beliefs that Adama could be the
ideal pal to rely on. Adama must have poisoned her mind.
“Tell me, what can I do?” Tina requested Carine.
“You better forsake those so called stars like Adama who masquerade.”
She could not keep her composure and she vowed,
“It’s a bitter medicine to forsake Adama. Very bitter indeed…I would rather
die than hating him.”
“We are of the same generation, but that cannot make us holler due to
oldness. Do not let your future slip out of your palms. You will find another decent
man for you.” Carine advised Tina touching through her hair as a parent guiding
her kids.
Tina was still inflexible and she muttered words of her obstinate mind.
“Adama is mine according to my fate dictated from predestination. What I
can do is to kneel and pray for him. I believe that he will stop all those blunt
behaviors which are against the standards of our society.”
“Oh no…! Do not rely on him. There are serious boys who need better
wives like you.”
“I never missed men. The only one I am targeting is Adama.” She
concluded.
In Carine’s boasting and arguments resided some logic for she was a
terrific girl though Tina too wrapped beauty and kindness. Whenever Carine
passed by a group of boys whether barbers, cobblers and welders, they fixed
their eyes on her transported as if the holly ghost descended unto them. She
knew that she made fragile hearts to succumb to her attire and swung her size to
burn their hearts with admiration and yearning.
The period after Ndarwa’s 1994 holocaust brought many changes. Apart
from the increase of orphans, widows, lack of hope, trauma and hatred on the
side of some families of murderers; Mayibobo increased in the town. On the peak
of the mountains were huge forests while before you might find domestic kings
grazing behind the roofs surrounded by Imiyenzi pegs. The cost of life became
expensive. Prices of commodities raised from day by day, the glowing inflation as
the economists reveal. Fear on the side of the survivors increased and it was

55
evident since every week the wicked fugitives who orchestrated the 1994
genocide of Tutsis murdered one or two victims.
Again, prostitution became rife as if it was legally approved. The honesty
and trust among spouses gradually decreased. Some cases of dislocated
families because of the extra marital affairs were heard from the taxis and the
market places. Dangerous disease developed as an aftermath from the barbaric
rape happened during the carnage and reconstruction was hard in such situation.
Women were oppressed and some them suffered passively and accepted to
receive the unjust compulsory leave just because they opened their mouths to
protest against the injustice. As the domestic strife multiplied, women too entered
into the race chasing what they were deprived by their unfaithful husbands linked
by law. From these races, women’s rights started to be dealt over by the central
government initiating gender policies demystifying traditional beliefs about
women’s power.
In ancient times women were to satisfy men’s lust and slaving on the
welfare of their kings as they honored their spouses.
That was the evolution of martial love in Ndarwa. Upward downwards, by
then it was the period of extra- marital issues after marriage. Just before it was a
test to taste before marriage commonly known advance (veneering the act of
marriage by the advance and claim the virginity while the veil has been torn) , the
traditional marriage in which a man sweated and toiled to get a woman whom the
parents chose for him against his mutual consent. Most of the time, boys could
wrestle three nights without catching their bride. One trick to catch and fell such
strong girls who made them dilapidate because of the cow’s cream applied onto
their soft bodies was to splash ash to their naked bodies. This symbolized
bravery and it was a sign of virility to the side of men. Once you succeeded
seizing her, the spying crowd clapped for you that you had become a grown up.
In the act of love itself, the boy was sneaked so as to listen whether he shot the
target. If they heard no wincing or screaming on the side of the girl, they left sad
complaining that the boy’s tool does not write. That time it was the call for
charlatans and witch doctors to bring herbs so as to save the couple. Incase of
the woman’s frigidity, she was beaten the amatovu, a wild plant with thorns and
leaves loved by goats.
Just after the forties, once a boy came to a girl and clasped Umwishywa
round her neck, the courtship for marriage began. She could not deny the offer
despite her family’s rank in the tribe. That time a man in his homestead had a
supreme authority. Women lived in a custody gnawed by the sorrow of being
subjected to men in whatever they did. They cared for children, carrying them in
their backs, cultivating, cooking, fetching water, entertaining their husbands,
making beds in such weariness... In the fifties to sixties, the process of dating
was still the same; however on the wedding day, seeing that the Europeans
inaugurated it, the bride was carried to the church in Ingobyi (crib) by a group of
men and family members singing songs of marriage and where the bride was
wrapped sobbed. The transportation was an honor to the beneficiary and it
served as a veil of nowadays.

56
 The marriage has been changing as society changed to accommodate the
eras of a new civilization of modernity. Few of the rituals done to cleanse the
marriage like asking the wizards to bless the paths or beds of the newly married
couples or even the process of the ceremony itself marked by dancing and
saying epics were no longer useful. What was shocking was the fact that in 1994
holocaust, the persons killed one another without taking into account such strong
knight that tied Rwandans. Imagine that a husband chopped his wife just
because she is a mututsi while he too boasted of being a muhutu!
Tina introduced this conversation as a way of soothing herself not to
focus on Adama’s misdeeds. Her impulses still weighed on her. She was going to
introduce the live talk with Carine on the strategies to apply changing her idol. A
knock was heard on the door. At first she thought it was a cat scratching on the
door or any other animal. It later resumed more loudly than before.
Tina treaded to the door shivering. She sensed that walls have ears and
that if it was Adama, the topic of conversation, she could not find words to
apologize. What if it was her sister? The worst surprise might be of that a robber
plowing to loot their TV set. She wished it were her grand sister. Tina opened the
door with great anxiety. To her surprise, it was Philipus who welcomed Tina with
a loud sneer. She sensed that he had heard their talk and it would be risky to her.
Normally, Philipus rarely laughed. He was shy and most of the time he
spent time sitting a secure place lonely meditating or reading books or writing
some verses. He did not like intruders who impeded his freedom in the world of
metaphysics. Seeing him giggling for these two girls during that evening was to
find umunyana, an imagined calf in Ndarwa’s fairies claimed to bring long life
once one takes a glance of it and keeps it a secret. With curiosity, Tina asked
him,
“Philipus, you are so excited. Would you share your pleasure with us?”
“It is this old man near your compound.” He struggled with laughter not to
interfere him and resumed his comedy of the day.
“He was eating andazi greedily. When I emerged behind him, he was
caught unawares and hid the crumbs in his coat’s pockets. His cheeks were still
full of mouthfuls he did not gulp. He swallowed them in hurry to escape shame
and he was chocked. He coughed to release himself of that artificial suffocation,
his stick under his armpit. As I passed him, he was whimpering, shedding tears
round his grey bearded cheeks. I could not put up with the fuss.”
This funny event pleased the two girls who in turn forgot their topic of
gossip and joined him to jiggle ostensibly. They puffed and once you might pass
around the house you could imagine they were tickled or were watching a
comedy.
Adama and Philipus often met on Saturdays at Sozigi low land playing
ground. Carine found him an ambassador to stop Adama from smoking and
abandon his crimes. Philipus’ personality and wisdom could not permit him to
caution somebody or interfere in others’ affairs. He hailed much Sartre’s
existentialism.
“You know well a leopard can’t clear out its spots to be totally white. Why
can I indulge in interfering with Adama’s mode of life? He knows well why he acts

57
like that. Maybe it is his form of happiness. But this really offends you! You can
zero in helping me to guide him and never expect a complete change of an
individual.”
“Our support….! “The two girls chorused looking at each other.
“Yes!” Philipus nodded as he stood to leave.
He could not stay longer than twenty minutes with those girls. His words
were measured. His philosophy of life could not also allow him to sit in the
assembly of gossipers. He disparaged the simple minds that spent time talking
about other people without taking the log out of their own eyes.
As he bade farewell, Carine clasped his hands gesturing to wait for her.
They left together. Outside, the moon light melted with the electricity
power and made the whole place glowing and it looked it had never been night.
As Tina looked up in the sky, something alarmed her. The cloud sealed the
moonlit, the glittering of the stars and left the rainbow surrounding the moon that
appeared loosely in that cloud letting red layers. This drove her back to the night
of the 8th April 1994 that devoured her lovely parents and a great deal of her
relatives shattered by truncheons and exes. A sudden change of the mood was
developed into her as she became numb. She gestured a good bye and
returned. She continued to stare at that unnatural phenomenon in the sky cursing
the murderers of her lovely mother and father.
For her, that drastic change of the earth’s roof meant much for her
when she compared it to the real love cycle. Could it be stained like that sky and
wane? She wondered as she stood on the balcony of their square house.
By then the people were not many in La Fraicheur Avenue. The road
was under the control of few drunkards who staggered to their homes and those
persons who delayed to join their shelters. The night patrol had not yet started. A
bunch of Mayibobo was busy scrambling for the garbage to hook any left over of
potatoes or any other crumbs of food to ban hunger to shrink their intestines.
Carine profited the nearly blankness of the street and put her arms round
Philipus’ shoulders. They walked like that in short steps. He felt pangs of orgasm
filling him as his pen wrestled to tear his pants. Despite his erection, he did not
shove Carine. Instead he enjoyed the way they walked experiencing fruits of
romance something he was experiencing for the first time in the open. He talked
only when she asked him something. By sheer luck, they arrived at Ficyaha near
1930 penitent house on the left of the house of the first European, the German
Richard Kandt who found Kigali city when he led the delegation of Deutch colons.
His former house in bricks once upon the administration of German colons was
turned into a museum. Much was talked about that house. It harbored snakes
that were tamed. Carine and her mother lived around that place. Their house was
a huge mansion fenced with barbed wires. It was the out standing house among
the slums that humbly surrounded it as if imploring it not to sweep them. Philipus
was surprised heartedly by that house and when he compared that mansion to
Carine’s humility, he wondered much. They stood a moment near the ajar talking
to each other. She must have loved him. She wanted to initiate an everlasting
friendship with Philipus. She inquired him,

58
 “Bear with the question I am going to ask you. Do you have a girl friend?”
“Frankly speaking I don’t have any.”
“Do you mind if I become one for you?”
“Welcome!”
She wanted to stand a little while chatting but the time was jealous. The
cracking of the fence’s door frightened her and she told him good bye reluctantly.
On his way home, Philipus dealt with that mystery of having received an
invitation from the queen of Ficyaha. Nevertheless the state of poverty hindered
him to dash to Carine. Her fashion and the status of her mother swaddled the
intention he had t progress his trip in the world of romance. He found Carine a
girl who fitted to the rich not the poor as he suggested and he condemned
himself in that night.
“I wish I had other clothes not these ones I always put.” He murmured to
himself.
In worries and wishes, he came bump to bump with a dog that was
munching bones. In its business, it barked loudly running away with its prey.
Philipus too entered the house of his.
On his simple bed, Carine dominated his mind. Come what may he
decided to keep on. Real love never knows the limits of richness, poverty, ethnic
groups though after the genocide it was still a big issue, though reconciliation
process was being implanted as a remedy to reconstruct the torn apart society,
race and religion misunderstanding dominated quietly the love scenes. Love is
the language spoken by every individual. Even terrorists raged by wickedness
sometimes consume the fruits of love from the angels that light romance to them.
Philipus swore not to surrender as he spent time lying flat on his back gathering
all tools to ease his project. He had no diamonds, gold or property. His treasure
resided in his creativity. Sometimes, they say that actions speak louder than
words, but for Philipus, words speak more than actions.
Before they could meet again, he composed a poem to gift her. He spent
hours brainstorming words, shaping them to fit his objective. He proofread them.
He repeated the poem every hour of the next days to edit and make it sound
enjoyable to the ears and pierce the soul of the receiver. Satisfied with its edition
after the completion, he took his piece of paper kept in the shelf of his primitive
drawer and broke into the melodic voice in room on his bed and read the poem to
himself,
“You deserve praises.
You carry the beauty of Cleopatra,
That pretty queen.
With your pitiful eyes
You carried me away.

You are a queen by your walk

Swinging your height not to fall
Your well –polished forefront,
A quality one may crave.

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 The way you told me’ I love you’, the cure to
My broken-heart for love! Paradise….
Live long! You will never be a paradise lost under my umbrella.”
He looked at the paper from time to time before he slept. He was waiting to post
it to reach her.

BROKEN HEARTS
CHAPTER NINE

It had been raining. It seemed the last rain of the season. The roads of
Mamuhi, Ficyaha, and Gitega dilapidated. Adama did not care much about the
mud. He had his Santiago shoes and his water proof coat which facilitated him to
wade through that mud in that rain.
“I have to make agreements with Philipus. The problem is that he will think
I want to incriminate him by my mannerisms.” He grumbled to himself.
In that drizzling raining, one thing bemused him like earthworms gnaw a
tree to thrust; a girl from APACOPE secondary school who stole his heart. She
must have enticed every man of virility who took glance at her, Adama thought.
He walked in Ficyaha, a place of many old roofs, leading to Gitega quarter near
Mboraminya, The Kigali California. He immersed in worries of whether Philipus,
the quiet boy would link him to that beautiful lady and befriend with him. Adama’s
longing was to know the name of that beautiful girl who used to pass near where
he used to stand watching the movement of the persons in the area. She made
him decrease his fondness to Tina.
Philipus was to serve the bridge and intercede on his behalf no matter
what could happen. He didn’t beat about the bushes. He started his investigation.
“Do you know that beautiful lady who studies at your school?”
“APACOPE has a number of them. Who are you referring to?”
“She is light –skinned, slender and whenever she laughs; dimples stand
out with love. She is wholly pretty I tell you. She also lives in these places.”
Adama explained.
“Dimples….Beautiful… Maybe you are talking about Nema, the Noble’s
daughter.” Philipus inferred shaking his head for satisfaction.
“She seems a daughter from the important family.”

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 “Yes she is and she is the first at APACOPE. By the way, do you stray
her?” He chuckled loudly braking his back that was about to thud on the wall.
“Of course…!” He shook his head.
“Her beauty makes a number of my classmates and some the teachers
at APACOPE to salivate like the dog in Pavlov’s conditioning experiments.
But she is arrogant and scorns.” Philipus criticized. In dating Adama was an
expert.
For Philipus, the peace of mind consists of being ascetic and escapist of
some horrible and distracting events that may disturb one’s freedom. Thus
silence, though called lack of bravery, is the only way to diagnosing some
conflicts in promoting tolerance; hence he would rather be free and creative to
adjust and harbor any situation without adventuring or grumbling. Surrender
not for defeat but for self respect and humility. Philipus who experienced
unrequited love could not go beyond his memories to overcome the sense of
frustration that always dominated him. The condition of his poverty left him
deprivation of good moments that adolescents share among themselves.
Adama did not understand Philipus’ naïveté and he started preaching him the
gospel of love.
“You have to venture and play the lose win game or by chance win lose
game. You give provided that you earn from your generosity or if you don’t
open your eyes wide, she earns and you fall in loss. So if you invest in love,
never deprive yourself of romantic exploits.”
“That’s a myth. I can’t bluff on that. You know we find money for a rent
toiling. Assume I plant a seed in her womb, who can help me?”
“Philip, don’t funk of impregnating a girl. Maybe you have not experienced
love.”
Philipus kept quiet for a little moment and he shook his head with failure.
Satisfied, Adama started to tell him every detail about the language of what
teenagers call love.
“My friend you are ripe. Remember, you are in senior six. Next year you
will be studying in the university. I know you are intelligent and motivated not like
me who dropped out. I wasted my chances and there is no chance to recover
them. So be confident and open.”
“It’s good, but even when it may be Nema, I can’t yield to any girl still in
this condition of poverty.”
“Let me suppose you are pretending. That’s a bloody lesson through our
veins. Even a he-goat on heat sniffs the back of a she-goat before mating her. If
a child succeeds in sucking the mother’s breasts intuitively, you too will acquire
such casual skills of romance. I remember I was completely shy by the time I
escorted my father to the church just after the 1994 terrible events that left me an
only child with my father, always haunted by trauma I found an escape of mind
refreshment through erotic exploits.” He bluffed with a sense of prestige.
“I know that romance is good for me. I am also aware of HIV virus and the
poverty of my caretaker. You have mentioned that tragedy which swept our
families and it’s good you still keep memories. On my behalf, I don’t want to die
of AIDS. I don’t also want to complicate my aunt becoming a burden to her.”

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 “All girls are not infected. Cherish the one who will not exploit you; the
one who will make you forget the sad events befell on us.” Adama advised
Philipus lingering his eyes at him as if to emphasize that it was an escapable
obligation to obey or an initial process to undergo.
“I would try if I weren’t a student and Carine might be my choice.” He
bemoaned and he added a word, “my past…!”
“Never look back!”
Philipus narrated his background. His voice swelled by feelings of grief
and sorrow that shook his Adam’s apple. The worst experience was a broken
love from a girl he cherished just after the recovery of 1994 genocide that left
grief and trauma among people of Rwanda. He was still in second year 0 level
studies. From then he nursed a pessimistic out look for all girls within him.
The way he was brought up was also another factor of undermining
himself. He was adopted by his aunt when he was two years old. His mother died
a sudden death when she was coming from the land. His father who was the
president of the drunkards in Gitega pubs was trampled over by a car when he
was coming home dancing sinyola, a famous item of music from Kenyan old
songs called Jarua played mostly in pubs. From that time Philipus remained an
orphan and never knew any mother apart from his aunt. His lack of parental
affection made him heart broken and dejected. During his growth he didn’t play
with his age mates. While some children were busy molding mud to build dream
flats or shaping stones into limousines or land cruisers or making Toyotas in dry
sorghum trunks, he watched at their antics with much composure. In senior five
by the age of twelve, he started venturing in foot ball. He vanquished his
loneliness and admired one girl among his neighbors that he paid visit usually in
the evening. Their relationship did not last long. The monster of the 1994 finished
her. She was burnt alive. Philipus too survived the jaws of that terrible monster
by chance. He was rescued from a heap of manure of Mwabuta village where he
fled waiting the beats to come and throw him alive in the source of Nile. On the
30th June 1994, he trekked to the diamond country, DRC where the priest who
saved him met him in critical condition after being thrown in a heap of dead
persons due to the terrible cholera outbreak in camps in eastern DRC.
In secondary school, He met another angel. She bewitched him. Her
name was Yanick. That name would not be erased out of his mind except by
death. She caused fuss among other boys who longed to possess her. A group
of boys grudged Philipus. The unkind among them displaced his notebooks and
threw them in water. Others plotted to lash him.
Yanick did not stay longer at APACOPE secondary school. She flew to
another school abroad. In Belgium, the communication was cut off.
The end of their happiness happened one Sunday in the evening. He
outraged God in darkness watching the film of that emperor of the heroes and
the father of philosophers, Jesus Christ the greatest of the world, though Hitler
too was in mischief. He massaged her until they traveled to the universe.
To avoid that type of erotic talk, Philipus violated his principle of not talking
other people and introduced Tina as the topic of discussion. He wished to be

62
Tina’s microphone and speaker. When he was about to spill the beans,
something he feared to do, he heard the knock. Knock… knock…
The group of two girls stood near the door waiting to be invited in. It was
Carine and Tina. It appeared a good progress for Carine who wanted to fend off
men with cars.
Adama’s face changed when he caught sight with Tina together with
Carine. He stood up as if going on short call and took a French leave.
It became a big scandal and shame when he remembered the keys he
left where he sat. He had to go back and pick them.
A roar of amusement fell on him as each one of the three. To defend
himself he replied, “I escaped as you may well have surmised.”
He was cringing before them and the signs of guilt might be read from his
face.
“You wanted to avoid our blame on you.” Carine teased him.
“What kind of blame? Have I ever offended any of you? Why must I be
blamed?” He pleaded tersely.
“Your smoking and your crimes…The fortieth day awaits you. Change
your attitudes or jail changes them for you.” Carine cautioned him with her soft
voice with a tone full of confidence and wisdom.
“I hate girls who turn themselves judges.” He mumbled furiously like a
raged lion. Tina who stayed silent as an on-looker profited his defeat and added
the salt.
“Smoking is bad for your life and for your environment.”
“Ein…! The woman doctor…!” He shook his head and went on,” Am I the
only person who smokes on this globe? Go and advise these doctors who make
surgery, stars in music who exhibit themselves smoking to abandon polluting the
air and leave me free. Any way does it mean that smokers are dull?”
“Maybe…” Tina answered.
“That’s a cheap thinking from a woman.”
“A cheap what…? Do you think it genuine for a young smart boy like you
to walk with a cigar burning as if you are a wizard? That sewage of soot from
your trachea is nauseated.” Carine raised his awareness with an objective of
vexing him. She did not fear to warn everybody she found the wrong however
wicked the person might be.
“Pay attention, you harlot! I can pour my rage on you.” He stepped to slap
Carine.
Philipus had been following the plot of the events analyzing every detail.
He winced. At first he shunned to participate in their cut throat discussion. Adama
burst into words of anger after Philipus’ wincing.
“Tina what have you said?”
“Nothing…It was Philip’s whining.” She answered with fear and despair.
“Who told you that I am linked to you? The devils, ghosts or the wind…?
You are an idiot. Any time from now, wipe out your tears and forget about me. I
am fed up with your words. Do not even whisper that I used to be with you.
Failure not obey this, I will smash you.”

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 These cruel words left Carine and Philipus dazed by surprise. Philipus
used to joke when he was with persons he felt familiar to sarcastically added salt
in injuries.
“I can’t admit such abuse even when he can be my lord!”

Adama wore a dark face like a rainy cloud and left them discussing about the
incident. Tina bore with those words at the very beginning. The more her friends
rehearsed them imitating Adama; sorrow and anguish swelled her throat and
tears rolled out of her eyes. The sobbing mixed with passion burst into cries and
she wept profusely as a caned child. She stood and ran out to pursue Adama.
She bellowed calling his name. Adama walked ignoring her call and it was a
drama that one might picture in that road of Ficyaha. Passers by stood and
watched the scene of a girl who may have been bewitched as they chuckled
loudly. Shop keepers left their customers to witness the incident. The reaction
was the same-the boy failed to pay his whore. Tina never cared about their
remarks. She hollered at him,
“Adama no man is an island and mercy is twice blessed.”
Adama stood and hurled back to her.
“Puuh…! May your curse never befall on me! Do you think I need you?
There are other update girls hankering after me. Good bye and see you in the
hell.”
By then, the spectators sensed that Adama had stolen Tina’s money and
that maybe he wanted to disappoint her. Every individual interpreted this on his
own impulses and it was likely some of them transformed it into an interesting
fiction and the protagonist and the villain didn’t supply the information.

BROKEN HEARTS
CHAPTER TEN
Love has its own motives. Many times one’s friends are his enemies. Most of the
time, the persons who hate one another in this pilgrim of romance are the ones
who solemnly told to one another, ‘I love you.’ This simple clause bears strange
animosity if none of the partners is willing to apologize and reconcile. Once
engaged in love the queries to discover some of the unwanted mannerisms
masked from you may be the threshold of contradiction and misunderstanding.
Therefore, not well managed, the simple sentence becomes the reverse, the
saddest utterance. On the other hand, the eyes of love are strange. They hail the
defaults and bless them as qualities. The ears of love never listen to advice
because they cast them away as speculations. Love is a game of cowardice to
achieve the goal. It is innocent like the child who believes in the optimism of
everything. That is the power of faith.
Tina knew well about the notion of binary opposition that strongly
highlights the dialectic conditions of our every day life in the universe on the side
of the creatures. Where there is love, hatred must also be present. Then wisdom
to adjust to those differences is that makes context harmonious and to some
extent suspicious. Tina implored power to rely on such paradoxical harmony

64
without regretting her choice. She could not give up Adama for whatever reasons
or circumstances without trying her fate.
Adama felt uneasy from the day he vexed Tina. He was anxious about his
abusing her for no fault. The robbery he was planning could not be fruitful if he
was still in conflict with Tina, he thought. He considered it to be wise to go and
beg her pardon before invading the bank of his target. By doing so, he could get
a blessing from her and no security agent might arrest him as he dreamt. As
Asumani who was currently cured of the injuries from a motor driver who beat
him to death went on errands to hire a cable to transport them during the crime,
Adama pretended to be unwell. Left alone, he decided to invite Tina for make up.
Dreams at noon…”Is he confessing or I am getting it wrong?” Tina
wondered in amazement as she rehearsed every line of the letter. It seemed the
reverse of truth for Tina. Suffice it for her to go and prove what the guy sent
wrote. Even when it might be a trump to trap her, she didn’t bother about it.
You broke my heart was the sentence of welcome by Tina as she entered
Adama’s ghetto with one room and a poor lounge with three stools and one bed
where Asumani used to lay his sides for rest. What gave the trace of beauty to
that room was the snaps of various stars hanged on the walls to cover the worn
cement plastered the wall.
Instead of greeting Adama, she wept and wept. Adama, an expert in lyrics
and serenades dried her tears mollifying her with sweet words.
“Please forgive me
I know I hurt you
Causing my flower to wither
Now the sky is pregnant of fresh water drops of hope.
I am read to water my flower for life so that
I can make you evergreen, under my umbrella of love.” He gently crooned at
her.

Tina was an arid soil to resist the wetness of love. She failed to control her
emotions and feelings. She broke into a smile as she twisted her arms round
Adama’s chest to huge him. The ulcers of break up were treated. She ironically
said boastfully.
“I won’t forgive you!” She said with cryptic smile that made Adama
anxious.
“I will never hurt you again.” Adama implored manifesting the symptoms
of kindness and honest he had not before.
“I was testing you. You know I have forgiven you the time you thought to
hurt me for nothing in the yes of my friends.”
“Tina…” Adama called her in a low husky voice.
“Yes…” She replied with carefulness.
“You are so pretty.”
She first laughed and answered to him, “Thank you! But I’m becoming old”

“You are not too old as you are thinking. No girl is outdated.”
“I don’t believe you.”

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 “When you are groomed, no body can tell your age. You are always young
and novel.”
Hot season…It must be going to rain. Tina took off her coat. She wriggled
her legs, fanning her chest with the palms. This gesture summoned Adama to
react. She too cooperated and moved closer to him clutching him tightly. No
other dialogue….The hands manipulated their work. They left no area untouched.
Both were perspiring with sweat. After a long time Adama broke the silence and
asked her, “How many boys made love to you?”

“None in my adulthood, except one guy when I was still child in that game
of hide and seek.” She explained in a pale voice.
His hands tickled her and she jumped every now and then. She was
absent-minded. Adama’s touches intoxicated her. Every question or request by
then she voted yes. She breathed heavily. Adama drew his thumb across her
face and flicked sweat around her forefront away. None of them spoke. Speech
was metalinguistic signs. Facial expression and head nods were only ways of
feed-back. Tina too reacted and unbuttoned his pants. She massaged him and
the situation was at its climax. Adama was in that stage when men prig
themselves by promising cheques they have never endorsed in bank or that
period when women neutralize men’s chauvinism dictating them to cherish them
with whatever they have withheld them.
Once you offend a leopard for duel, it scratches you no matter what you
do to protect yourself. The couple found themselves in clothes of shame. Adama
was busy removing her briefs so as to open the rally. Tina crumpled up and
fainted.
He first inferred to her gesture as fear for it was her first experience
maybe; he thought. The id forced him to cuddle her and pull her pants. She
stirred her legs hollering across the room. Adama’s heat faded and was replaced
by fear. Tina too went on screaming, her mouth full of foam as if attacked by fits
of epilepsy. He stood motionless wondering on what to do. He refrained from
crying for help from the neighbors. They might humiliate him by having him
arrested.
In her agonies he stepped to cover her body, and then the invisible power
gripped him and pushed him to the wall. He fainted as if electrified. He returned
in the corner and knelt to forge a prayer to the almighty to heal Tina.
Tina at last heard a loud voice echoing a rebuke to her.
“Ingrate….Unfaithful….What were you going to do?”
She opened her mouth to answer back, but it was sealed. The voice
continued to chide her.
“The rewards of prostitutes are death and an ever lasting perishing. What
you were going to do is an evil in my eyes. You have been siding with that culprit
and I pitied you. Is this praise for your Lord who was nailed for you?”
In hectic dilemma, he found himself in a terrible fog. His eyes were aching
as though somebody threw pepper in them. God is powerful, he thought. Maybe
it was that fortieth day Carine told him.

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 “If delivered out of this darkness, I will not have sex for I have learnt a
lesson.” He talked to himself.
At last, Adama gained sight. He found Tina kneeling invoking the holly
spirit. He gestured to her that they were nude. She dressed herself in hurry and
left immediately without telling him good bye.
His two friends were back. No rest. They arranged every thing and led to
BCDI where they thirsted to withdraw hefty money to use extravagantly.
BCDI automatic box machine (ATM) in the center of Kigali town looked at
BK premises smiling, welcoming the clients who came to draw money from their
treasure boxes. Both premises were flats, but their oldness could not qualify
them as houses where money mongers always wished to dwell, where
embezzlers dreamt to dive into and where the poor wished to live and say good
bye to their enemy; poverty who discriminated them and made them walk
charging themselves of a crime of poverty.
The three guys, Kaganga, Adama, and Asumani turned round the
guichet examining the scheme other clients applied. Signs of fear and impatience
covered their face. Finally Adama approached the electronic box and applied the
same technology. As he squeezed his forged card, an expired MTN voucher on
which he fascinated some scripts of hidden numbers of password to look like
BCDI smart card, the only answer he received was of the unknown application.
Disappointed, as the mastermind of the operation, he assaulted on one of
the clients who were counting money next to him and snatched his bundle of
notes. The security agents there could do nothing to arrest Adama with their
Ndembo. He dashed like a plane and they stayed flabbergasted looking at each
other. The sympathizers at BCDI guichet shouted giving lip support to the victim.

The mission was still in its infancy. Technology failed them and they were
not satisfied.
“Why not invading another ordinary bank using their weapon?” Kaganga
proposed changing gears every moment.
“A good idea to get ourselves rich…” Adama welcomed the idea and he
was a bit scared of his recent crime.
“The fuel…!” Asumani reminded the two.
“Don’t forget the strategy.” Kaganga cautioned them.
“Don’t bother! Instead let us pass the station and quench the thirsty of this
automatic donkey.”
They supplied their vehicle with fuel from Renda Kobil station service. The
Commercial Bank agency of Renda was in the outskirts of Far East of Kigali.
Population at Renda was not overcrowded. Houses were scattered every here
and there. The place secure for the bandits; who planed to break houses and
escape uncaught. The three gangsters parked. They got out and covered their
heads and faces with threaded coats and checked the area to clear it. Having
sneaked the whole place to ensure the security, they examined if the two guards
still opened their eyes on one gun of ancient models that was not automatic. At
the moment the two guards were in slumber.

67
 Adama scrolled and seized their gun and flung it to Asumani who was in
patrol. Kaganga and Adama compelled the two guardians to lie down flat.
Kaganga undressed their belts and pinioned their arms behind in the back. To
avoid their roars calling for help, they pointed their weapons at the two helpless
guards and started to ask them questions about money store.
The security guards answered them expecting that their life could be
saved. Kaganga gestured ordering Adama to gag their mouths and eyes so that
they could not scream.
Adama spoilt the door’s heavy padlocks with a gun shot bullet. The rest
was to have the lock shattered and it did not take them long time. Adama served
an old metal he picked haphazardly and improvised with it. Inside the house they
rioted and fell on a heavy parcel that Adama heaved. Before they left, they
littered files on the floor.
“Let us finish these two guardians before we go. They’re a threat to us
any time they are detached.” Kaganga proposed to Adama.
“They can’t do any harm to us.” Adama ignored.
“They will accuse us and everything will be over.”
“Our concern today is not to kill like those interahamwe. We have got
money. So what do we need from their blood?”
“Any way, let us go and join Asumani.”
They sat down behind the bushes around the road to share the money
among themselves. Everyone of the trio had to get his share so as to avoid the
blunders that might arise unexpectedly along the way. The lamps of their cable
were alight and they counted money noisily as if it was in the day light. The night
patrol car’s siren was heard in distance. Asumani was the first to notice its sound
and murmured.
“Help…! We are caught.”
No sooner than he said so that they stormed in their vehicle and drove fast
to Marera. The military police van found their speed alarming and pursued them
at a high speed.
Kaganga who was driving missed where to pass when the cops road-
blocked him. It was in the mid-night. The night patrol was still behind them.
Kaganga diverted Cyiruka tarred road and disappeared in the direction of
Kabagari behind the Ministry of Education. Because of over speed, the car
overpowered him. He crammed it in the ditch. The trio got out of the car
expecting that the storm was over and that the remaining distance to Mamuhi
was short. They sat down. In their weariness, they were interfered by the flashes
of torches that projected on them. They stood up very quickly and took to the hills
of Rija. The military police were not alone. Soldiers, villagers and local defense
forces ran after them in that dark night. Though it was gloomy, these angels to
keep negative peace through permitted violence to punish with violence never
gave up. The three boys crept through thistles and long grasses that covered the
raids of Bwimo Mountain that stood straight like a tree. Thorns pierced them and
they kept on running away.
Peasants with their handles and dogs supported the cops and soldiers to
obstruct the burglars’ passage of escape. As Kaganga sought to climb a tree, he

68
felt an attack of cramp in his knees and jumped forward. He tumbled to the soil
and fell on his buttocks. Blood coursed out of his wounded left arm. He winced
cleaning his wrist. When engrossed in soothing the sores of his pain, a dog
barked assaulting to bite him. Asumani who leant on him applying an artificial
cure on his wound removed the sword and cut off its ear. The dog withdrew
barking ostensibly. The local people who were with security agents were
exhausted. The dog’s cry made them surrender the hunt and withdrew to their
different locations furiously and fearfully. As these fugitives set to leave, one
policeman lit the torch and noticed Adama’s silhouette. He downloaded the bullet
from the magazine to shoot him. Adama crawled down clumsily in the grass and
spotted him. He felled the policeman down and lashed him seriously. The guy
screamed for help. His co-hunters came to his rescue. Adama noticed them and
fired rapid fire in the bushes. They drew back fearing that the rebels increased.
Adama threw that heavy AK47 and rushed behind Kaganga who was a bit
recovered from his wound.
It was their turn to evacuate from the place as quick as they could.
Kaganga, Asumani and Adama jumped raids and raids. They reached the Peak
of Gariki Mountain at about four past forty five A.M unknowingly. They sat and
cheered themselves for a short while. Kaganga had his arm fractured. Adama’s
knee was bleeding. Asumani too had bruises of creepers that scratched him.
They hated life. They have not exhausted their journey and project.
They slumbered lying flat on the dew.
In his dizziness Adama felt something cold caressing his bare arm. He
touched it with the left arm that was used for a pillow.
“Lord, a snake…Wake up …A snake…” Adama shouted beating his two
roommates.
They were snorting heavily. Kaganga produced sounds of moaning mixed
with the gnashing of teeth. Asumani’s snorting seemed like sounds of rain drops
gushing from the sky. For Adama to wake them up, he rolled them upwards
down. They both woke up yelling at him.
“Shit…” They chorused with rage.
“A snake is here.” Adama thundered.
They descended the mountain still edging their way out of the bushes. The
bright of the twilight welcomed them when they were in the swamps of
Ngorobanya River at the bottom of Mwabuta Mountain. Opposite them stood the
hills that looked white because of the extraction of stones for construction. The
small areas that wore the plants were seen on the peaks of those hills. That was
the archipel of Ruyenzi, a hill with a saying by ancient Rwandans. They said that
the food which will not make you arrive at Kigali is eaten when one reaches the
peak of Ruyenzi.
The trio strayed. They had to climb up the mountain so as to leave that
area which stood furiously in front of them. They looked everywhere to identify
the town premises. They were totally lost in that strange area. They stood and
looked down the valley and saw a car in that valley. They got down again. It was
a long journey. Kaganga had a limp. Asumani and Adama were seriously weary.

69
 They reached the banana plantation. Did it belong to someone else? It was
dense and where there used to stand a house were ruins of demolished house in
bricks. The plantation covered big bunches of bananas. One ripe bunch of
banana on its tree attracted their desire. Adama hopped to take its extremity. It
was their food.
The sunrises spread throughout the area. No farmers around….What
happened? Every one of the three asked himself. There were few compounds.
Citizens in the area were not many compared to huge plantations of banana
trees abandoned. The immensity of these trees, creepers twisted round them
and bushes bordering them turned the area into a natural hiding for some small
animals like skunks and vixen. The three guys missed the path to where they
were hearing cars humming. They tried to improvise the path to the tarmac road.
The first persons they met were shepherds. Kaganga requested one of them to
help him.

“What is the name of this place?” Kaganga inquired.

“We don’t know.” The shepherd answered.
“Please direct us. We are lost.” Asumani begged.
“You are enemies. Those infiltrators who left our area deprived of its pride.
We are going to report you to the authority.” Another shepherd observed holding
his stick on his shoulders.
Adama fished a note of one thousand and slipped it in the torn trousers of
that shepherd. The shepherds grinned and they directed them to the tarmac road
going to a tree baptized a tree for birds.
In town no other news was update apart from the previous armed group
robbery. It was spread all over on houses’ walls, trees and in other public places
that whoever might identify the suspects involved in that robbery could be
rewarded. The headlines of newspapers presented the owner of the cab they
used. His picture in handcuffs and his car in wreckage were on the front page.
The first paragraph said,
“Grasp all, lose all! A young boy delivered his boss’s cab to the gangsters.
This happened this Wednesday in the evening when three footballers from
Jaguar, as the young naïve driver explained, came and promised him much
money. Asked the names of robbers, he answered that he no longer remembers
their names. The folder containing them has been erased from his brain’s local
disk by the viruses.”
Nothing had to prevent them from repatriating to their ghetto after the night
of erring. Something still held them to keep on their way home. They spent part
of day in the bushes around Kiruhura. The terror within them hinted to the
neighbors who could report their case to Mamuhi police station. In the noon
hours they remained undecided at the entrance of Gobugonya main taxi parking.
Adama left to buy a cigarette to puff and someone approached him. At
first he thought it was the fleece but the man asked him if he was going to
Kararu. He immediately planed to go back to his homeland and come back after
the crime die out. His two friends did not welcome Adama’s departure.
“You let us down.” Asumani complained in whispers.

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 “Anytime they come, we will accuse you of accomplice.” Kaganga
frightened him in low voice.
“I don’t mind.” Adama answered to them tersely as he rushed behind the
guy who led him to the taxi that missed one person to leave.

BROKEN HEARTS
CHAPTER ELEVEN

The months of the rainy season in Rwanda, from April up to July are
reserved for the mourning and commemoration of the 1994 disaster. The real
mourning starts from the 7th April up to 14th. It lasts one week. Six years after the
genocide, rancor on the side of the victims and their hunters was still persistent.
The hidden perpetrators occasionally persecuted the survivors threatening them
with words of terror and the most pigheaded among them killed the widows or the
orphans lest they could not witness what they knew about their criminal hands.
Silence dominates Kararu and the whole areas of Rwanda during that period.
Stress and dejection characterize the people in this period. The bodies of the
victims of the terrible carnage scattered on the hills have been buried in honor. At
the tombs, griefs mixed with cries from the offended mourners characterize every
person. Trauma falls many as they went back to those times when humanity
turned into beast hood. At the memorial site of Kararu, the messages given
centered on disparaging the genocide ideology and negationism. Poems and
speeches cursed the killers calling the survivors to maintain firmness, hope and
forgiveness.
Young girls and women would be taken by a sudden anguish as they
burst into hollering calling for help. Ghosts left by that carnage beyond the human
understanding, dehumanization carried out by the dictatorship regime to grab the
power though they failed, left the indelible scars on Rwanda as a whole.
Old persons and young boys joined girls and the Red Cross volunteers’
work doubled as they carried the patients into a special reserved for pretreatment
and an asylum. Some of the suspects of the genocide present among the
mourners pretended to sympathize with the survivors of the genocide who cried
for theirs. During the nights of these three months for remembrance, cases of
violence against the survivors increased. These wicked groups flung stones on
the houses of the survivors to intimidate them. During those months it was
reported that one widow and her two children were invaded and cut off hands so
as to hush them.
Never again…Why never again while the innocent people still underwent
swords, clubs and machetes and above all misery without proper shelters? This
absurdity created lack of hopes on the side of the survivors of that holocaust. The
authors of the tragic event were free abroad dealing with their business of
extracting diamond and gold in DRC. They were the ones who speculated that
Rwanda was not secure. Even the ones taken to court, the sentence they
received was lenient compared to the great contribution in the criminal acts. The

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international court for the genocide (ICTR) characterized mostly by the lenience
or impunity. Imagine those laws that might even release decoys such as
Kambanda Jean, a great author who administrated the killing. What justice?
Then the UN sang never again while they remained aloof orchestrating the
carnage on the satellite and their militaries assisting the event as they were
called ”MINUAR”, letting down innocents at Kicukiro and elsewhere. For Kabeyi,
he took this expression a trite slogan when he recalled Slobodan Milosevic of
Yugoslavia, Janja weeds of Sudan and Interahamwe in DRC exterminating
Banyamurenge and Rwandans living there as they did before in Rwanda. What
was the role of UN? Kabeyi found the UN as a scarecrow and never again as a
mere passing shadow according to UN declaration. Message of unity and
reconciliation, forgiveness, revival of hope to live, burying the scattered remains
that filled the mountains, bushes, ditches and various caves should be the only
remedy to cure the row scars left on the minds of Rwandans.
Kabeyi was a generous person despite the bitter experiences he had been
going through. He avoided nursing the hatred and the spirit of vengeance. When
offended he guarded his stoicism. He knew how to control his furiousness. One
of his neighbors haunted by his wrong doing sought to test his level of patience
and righteousness. He increased aggressions and messages of discrimination.
Whenever Kabeyi passed by him, the cruel man looked at him with an angry eye
and would spit on the soil insulting Kabeyi silently.
“May you die and never come back! If you had not been here, I would
have seized this fertile land of yours.”
Something strange happened at one of the memorial sites neighboring
Kararu. It was on Sunday during the inauguration of Gacaca courts which were
the juridical institutions at the grass root level meant to treat some trials of the
genocide of Tutsi. Kabeyi’s neighbors, Nzicuza raised his and requested the
present people to say a word. People from Kararu and the neighboring places
stood up and looked in the direction where he was. They were eager to listen to
the testimony from Nzicuza who had been trembling. Nzicuza looked upset.
Some women from the crowd who knew Nzicuza started to whisper to one
another and removed cloths out of their bags and cleaned drops of tears.
“To all people whose families I murdered and most of whom are resting
here, particularly Kabeyi, I beg your pardon. My guilt has haunted me whenever I
tried to sleep. I even tried to poison Kabeyi and his son just after I found they
were still alive so that I could cover the proofs, but I failed. Kabeyi , your
European god, though it led us to chase you and your late family and cause
blood to course, it is now awake and still loves you.” The man paused and
Kabeyi cleared his throat and resumed,
“What do you mean by that?”
“I want to tell you that God loves you much and I too love you.”
“And then….” Kabeyi reacted.
“If God loves you, you too can love me as he loves you and forgive me my
crimes against you. I am not flattering or even lying to you. I killed your family
and other nine persons whose names I do not remember. I smashed them with a
mallet and after I looted their assets. But in your eyes and the eyes of God, I

72
confess. Please I beg your pardon. Forgive me! Forgive me and I am ready to tell
my accomplices in that shameful act against humanity I did. Forgive me, I beg
you!” The man insisted as he knelt down raising hands in sign of supplication.
Kabeyi leant on the chair. The whole assembly was astounded. The
emotional ones started to cry and those of shattered hearts because of the
remembrance of their late families and lovers fell in trauma. While the volunteers
in counseling and Red Cross workers were assisting the victims, Kabeyi stood up
and announced,
“I know well you will not agree with what I am going to say. It is justice in
the eyes of God whom some of us always accuse that he rejected us during our
tribulations. This neighbor, according to his testimony of mea-culpa that he
confessed on his own, reveals that he had been opposing to me not for himself,
but because of the beast within him. The human nature instilled in him the
animosity. Once upon a time Hamourabi preached a sermon of vengeance. An
eye for an eye, an ear for an ear, but I dismiss this. I would avenge myself to be
satisfied. A bad idea to denounce... I want us to reconcile and unite so as to build
our torn nation and become like the super power nations. I want to live. On my
behalf, I forgive my neighbor. Do not say no or ask me why or say buts.”
While the man was overwhelmed by tears of joy, some persons among
the gathering whispered asking one another why Kabeyi did that. Others
shouted”Jail him. The big murderer!” Kabeyi stayed firm on his decision and
every person found him a crank.
That Sunday of 16th July 2000 marked the end of over three month
mourning period at Kararu. Though the mood was still sad, the people who for so
long wore frown tried to restore their communion. The news that Kabeyi acted
like Jesus spread all over Kararu and in its surroundings before he even arrived
home.
It had been raining in Kararu in the morning, something that was rare
during July, the month normally known for the scorching sun that tills the dust to
fill all places. In the afternoon it stopped and people were drying firewood and
other wet items. The persons who found Kabeyi with Nzicuza going together
home were taken aback. They knew well that Kabeyi and Nzicuza were like fire
and water. Kabeyi knew where his trust laid- Nzicuza was being faithful and
honest. No other murderer had thought the same as him. It was brave of him to
beg pardon giving details on the death of Kabeyi’s family.
The rain season of that April 2000 resembled 1994 April rain season
mingled with the pour of innocent’s blood. It also extended to July as it were
during the genocide period when the patriotic army saved souls in troubles. By
the year 2000, valleys and plains of Kararu were covered by bushes of sorghum,
banana, cassava and other crops that burrowed skunks and vixen which looted
some careless hens. The rain too watered those crops and once you watched
that landscape of low land; hope restored in you that Rwanda would be going
probably to become the granary of the world and no person might vegetate or
starve again.
In the evening of 16th July it rained again. Kabeyi and Nzicuza dressed in
their water resistant maxis crammed some logs of wood inside the small house

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that served the kitchen. Other three servants were busy milking cows. Another
waded through the mud. He struggled not to be stacked by the mud when
keeping the stables clean.
Kabeyi stood by the front of his house humming words of one of the
hymns they sang in the church entitled “What a friend we have in JESUS.” He
was possessed as he jumped a little to praise the Lord in the way that the
Christians of his nearby church bounced themselves, changing voices and others
stirring kettles and others beating drums and timbales to the rhythm that might
rise the dead souls to regain that melody. To his surprise he saw a young boy in
shorts carrying a bag in his back. It was being a bit dark. Kabeyi could not
discern him from a distance. The boy was limping proudly heaving his height as
an intore dancing. Kabeyi stared at his movement. He was surprised by the fact
that the guy was leading to his homestead. Muzehe Kabeyi was still in the
clouds. Was he a felon disguised in the image of a young boy coming to
destabilize his security? He wondered.
In his worries mixed with the memories of what he did forgiving Nzicuza
and the way he allured him to his homestead to help him occasionally for some
difficult labors, Adama didn’t bat an eyelid. He greeted his father with much fear.
Kabeyi’s eye ache due to oldness made him confused. At first he couldn’t
recognize his son who was in dark glasses.
“Do not mock at me. Must I know you somewhere? Your face resembles
of…” Kabeyi queried inquisitively rubbing his left eye repeatedly.
“I am I…..am…..I am Adama.” He stammered rubbing his glasses with a
small bundle of cloth he carried in his shorts right pocket that he pretended to
adjust.
Muzehe Kabeyi embraced his son again. It was a great pleasure. The
prince returned. There was going to be a great ceremony to officiate and honor
his coming back home. It was the same picture as of the prodigal son in the Bible
though Kabeyi was in doubts. He imagined that criminals took him hostage and
finished him never to be back. His son’s repatriation was a grace from the
Almighty.
Adama made his father lose courage when he announced his departure to
be scheduled very soon.
“My God…! I have been thinking you should remain with me. What have
you eaten there that has made you forget your ancestor’s soil?”
“Nothing….!” He paused and went on, “I can’t stay longer in this area
without modernity. No lamps around. No wrestling of men and cars. No total
freedom as in town. In other words village life equals custody. But daddy it is not
the reason why I am leaving next month. I have to look for a paying job instead of
dwelling on casual jobs which earn me less money.”
“You have no job! How do you survive?”
“I arrange myself. I am still competing to apply for a decent job and I hope
to get it very soon.”
“Without degree…? Why can’t you stay here and share the food with me
for sometime and go back to school? Remember you are my only child whom I
should be proud of and inherit my property. So why do you choose to dislocate

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out of me by withering in town where you strive without any plot of land to feed
on when the money is scarce?”
“This region is not secure. Isn’t it last week that they murdered three
survivors? How can I resist with such hunt? Above all I don’t want to go back to
school again and flee the ambiance of the town life. I will try to remain with you
for sometime but if the climate becomes complicated, I will go back to town
where everybody minds his own business casting prejudice off.”
His moment of loneliness made him crave the ambiance in Kigali, the
cosmopolitanism that painted the town to look strange with the beehive of
activities which turned the whole capital hot. One day for Adama in Kararu
equaled a century. During one week he spent, he longed a cigar and beer, but
his father was still a hindrance.
On Saturday of the same week since his return, he was supposed to
attend the congregation with his father in Kararu seventh day Adventist church.
He remained in bed coughing heavily pretending to have cold. In bed he picked
the magazine from his archives. As he leafed through the naked pictures of men
and women petting each other, his pulse of going back to Sala to find out
whether her initial teacher still breathed burned within himself.
From time to time Kabeyi heard the gossips about the notorious hidden
mannerisms of his son. Adama had been spending two and half weeks in Kararu.
Sala’s neighbors sneaked his cohabitation with her. Kabeyi didn’t believe the
news spread until he discovered the reality one evening when he caught him red
handed playing with Sala along the way. Adama was fazed by the question
Muzehe asked him. He first kept quiet and looked down on the cement, but his
father insistence led him to a total state of shame. He stuttered some words
unheard words of defense and his father’ authority threatened him as he forged
ways to abscond from him. It was time to face blame and eat the dinner.
“Do you know the kind of the woman you are playing with? It is said that
she trampled on the nail.” Kabeyi warned his son and his face flashed rage.
“Is she infected by that pandemic?” He enquired coyly.
“It is rumored and there can be a chunk of truth in what people say about
her.”
To make him spill the beans he didn’t hint his encounter with them along
the way. He chose to blame him in another way.
“I know you always visit that woman and humiliate her by undressing her
thighs.”
“Daddy….How did you get that?” He asked with much fear that exhibited
his guilt. His heart pounded more than usual. Through his trembling came a
random voice confessing.
“It’s once and I was discarding a jigger out of her toe. Somebody
slandered me. Daddy… Forget that and forgive me.” Adama pleaded humbly
nearly to go on his knees.
“Don’t be stupid! Removing a jigger! Does it require marrying your tongues
and perspiring with sweat as if coming from cross country race?”
“I beg your pardon please.”

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 “Listen to me if you want to triumph over trials and temptations. Be wise
and direct your mind in the right way.” He admonished him fixing his sight on his
red face.
“I let you down and despised your advice the day I accepted to be directed
by forces of evil. So forgive me and I beg you to pray for me.”
“Promise me that you will not go back to Sala.”
“For God’s sake I swear that I won’t go back there.”
“That is good. You have also to stop smoking and addicting yourself with
beer. Such bad habits blacken my self esteem and increase much soot in the
ceiling of my house. In addition, tomorrow you have to go back to Nigiha to
register for school. I can’t admit letting spoil your future.”
Adama felt trounced. He winced and clapped his hands once. He sought
an alibi to defend himself.
“Daddy, I have never smoked in my life.”
“What…? Who litter those buts of cigars in your room?” His wrinkles
stood out because of anger though the lantern light started to crackle. He added
a little quantity of petrol and it illuminated the lounge clearer ever than before.
Adama was completely beaten by the trial he was facing. He bowed his
head and scratched his feet on the floor. Kabeyi fixed his gaze at him until he felt
overcome by his impure and incorrigible nature. The rain gushing saved him as
he stood to pick a barrel to put under the trough in order to collect water.
Kabeyi had many farms. His survival taught him to involve his strength in
manipulating his lands into production. He planted maize plantations, pineapples
and beans. These selected crops gave him much money at harvest time. He was
no longer interested in a paying job.
He wouldn’t be able to till his lands alone. To make gains, he brewed the
inkangaza (banana beer mixed with honey) that he gave his servants and other
squatters who used to come to gather money for their survival from Kararu fertile
soils. He earned through collective work. In case of famine especially the one
baptized Amballage of July1999-January2000, people ran to him for assistance.
This made some of his neighbors to grudge him. He had many barns and yet he
did not apply any witchcraft to protect his crops. Those who consulted the
wizards for blessed water to spray on their lands casting away evils and jinx
became angry with him secretly. No worm or any bird harmed his crops while he
didn’t apply any ritual to protect his lands and plantations.
In pubs, he was the topic of discussion from the time he accepted
Nzicuza to be relieved of his crimes. Many of them who gained unjustly argued
that life has ups and downs, dusks dawns, rises and falls. The ones who drank
up until they lurched home criticized Kabeyi’s pity as an act of naïveté. Then one
of them who found comfort from drinking much beer to cover the hard memories
that haunted him sharply criticized Kabeyi. He told to his intimate friend captured
by the bottle about Kabeyi’s weaknesses.
“He wants to be righteous. Instead of helping us to redeem our lost
families and dignities, he is siding with the enemy. But .let me tell you one thing;
never illusion yourself thinking that you will lead an ideal world. You will never
achieve that except when you lead an island life. My friends, the context justifies

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the tactics and the situation. How can you realize your goals without a bit of
hypocrisy and wisdom? Believe me. I could not have put it this way, but it is
better to be flexible and sometimes sensible to terrible events like genocide.
These are the forces of the context’s impulsions. For me, no matter what
happens, I have chosen to be silent not for defeat or humility but for my self
defense so as to achieve peace and my goals in anytime contextual situation
demands. I know actions speak louder than words and I am read to teach those
good for nothing a lesson. I tell you the truth. Yah! To crack down on their terrible
atrocities they have made!” He shook his head, put his bottle on the stool and
kept on,” Imagine that Kabeyi is promoting injustice and does not favor the
eradication of impunity and lenience. He is very compassionate to Nzicuza, a
culprit, a murderer and an outsider forgetting his son who is rumbling.” The man
nagged and sipped on his bottle. After tasting he went on backbiting Kabeyi.
“Look at his son. He is a crook. I have heard that he always drinks for
free. He sits on the verandah of pubs here at Kararu waiting for some one to buy
boozes for him. I even saw him snatching a purse from somebody whose name I
cannot mention.”
“Did he escape that?” The owner of the pub asked them shunning the flies
and the maggots that buzzed around the cans of beer. The man who was
speaking went on his story that sounded delicate to the persons in the pub. The
way the man narrated it, making gestures with slaps, punches, leaping, kicking
blows, making the benches shake and raining abuses emulating Adama made
the incident a real live thriller. What the man failed to present was Adama’s
rolling down blood flowing out of his nostrils. This warm conversation stopped as
Adama entered the pub carrying a file of documents looking like an inspector
from the central government. The whole pub became sullen and stared at Adama
suspiciously. Except the cracking of the bottles and the straws made by the pub
owner who was cleaning them, no other voices were heard.
Adama drank and drank until he could not tell the number of bottles of
Kanyanga he bought. This rose the fierce attacking between him and the pub
owner. Adama missed the money to pay. The pub owner whose prominent
muscles stood out leapt over him. He hit him blows and slaps that left Adama
dazed. Adama shaved him the elbow and the man slipped and fell into a basin
full of beer. As the bar owner shrank the beer trickled throughout his clothes,
Adama picked one empty bottle from the poorly made sawed table and whizzed it
at the pub owner. It missed him and smashed the hurricane lamp under the
opposite wall. The drunken persons in the pub became sober as they surrounded
Adama to teach him a lesson. The pub owner grasped his arm and pulled him
violently to the wall. As he dragged him to push him against the wall, Adama
freed himself from his grip and withdrew.
“I die!” Adama screamed as he entered Sala’s homestead. He panted
breathlessly and Sala ushered him inside the house. She opened the opposite
room of the dining room and came with a tray of some dust of herbs to deaden
his bleeding forehead. The guy’s concern was money. Nothing else, even his
wound meant nothing to him.

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 “Please lend me some money so that I can pay some one who wants to
slay me.”
“Money….!”
“Yes…I need money to pay him back before he kills me. In addition I want
you to sell that bull and after I finish his loan we will initiate a project that can
provide us with much money.”
“I only have fifteen thousand francs. Is it enough for your release?”
“Oh yes! Bring it. It is as if you have calculated that sum of money before.”
“As for the cow, I am going to purchase on it very soon. Come back
tomorrow to collect the remaining sum for that project. But I am afraid that you
will escape with it as you did with the suitcase and leave me alone in poverty and
tears.” She announced as she fumbled money in her miniskirt on which she
adjusted the wrapper on.
Though Adama was dull and lied his father that he went back to school
claiming to be a day student , he knew some theories he heard in some of the
churches he attended to in the town and made Lorenzo de Medici theory his
credo. The theory contradicts the predestination beliefs and it says, “Whoever
wants to be happy, let him be so for tomorrow there is no knowing.”
Another theory he praised much was Machiavelli’s views that the end justifies
the means. So if the end justifies the means, Adama found it to disappear with
Sala’s money from the bull she sold expecting Adama to be an ally in business.
The day of his departure had been cold. It was September and it had been
raining cats and dogs. The night was bright. The sky sheet of paper was
adorned by the glittering stars that surrounded the moon that shined dimly.
Adama stood out urinating to the far end of the compound. Out there he recalled
the story of a hyena in humor. It snatched one man’s pipeline in dizziness as he
held it. He sneered without letting the cry of laughter to betray him. Many sayings
were attributed to that brute animal. The popular one is “the politeness is in one’s
belly” alluding to how hyena reacted after he compared his white shit to that of
cows, respected domestic animals in Rwanda’s culture.
Adama remained out there in front of his father’s roof. He had been
spending a long time with his father fooling him that he was attending class while
he accumulated loans that might decapitate his head. He mumbled to himself.
“No sufficient money apart from that one from Sala. Will other money
come from the heaven like manna into my hands? My father cannot swell my
account. Let me cook a lie and go to the market to fool people that I multiply
money. Oh no….It may be worse if I am caught.”
It was about three AM. The road was blank except the bushes that
surrounded it standing vigilantly like policemen on night duty. Torch light
projected at him. He felt a sudden dart of panic. He crammed himself in one of
the bushes and let the persons on night patrol keep on their way. He tightened
the he- goat beside him in that wildness.
That- he goat was known in the whole village of Nigiha where the market
took place. Its back was covered by long fur. It had long horns that pleased old
men in the area as they surrounded it watching the way it bleated in sight of she-
goats on rut.

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 Nobody had already asked him about the price of that lovely goat.
Butchers needed young he-goats. The castrated ones were privileged because
of their delicious meat. Karama, a middle aged man and the owner of the goat
was the first customer to purchase on that domestic animal. To avoid the arrest,
Adama accepted the less money Karama trapped him with. At first Karama
hesitated to pay him that sum of money and touched the goat in the belly and it
jumped here and there.
“Why don’t you pay me? I am in hurry.” Adama pressured on Karama.
“To pay you for what…?” Karama roared.
Karama felled him down and screamed for help. Immediately, the whole
market teemed in the area where they stood. Without asking what happened they
started to slap Adama and others throwing rotten apples at him. Some women
spat at him. In a little moment, he was dirtier than the pig coming from muddy
swamps. The inflexible voices among the crowd chanted “stone him. Stone him.
Stone the thief!”
I apologize for I’m a big dog who stole a he-goat was the tune he repeated
marching with that he-goat on his shoulders. The too scratched him onto the
chest striving tor release itself. The crowd behind him booed at him throwing
rotten avocadoes and all sorts of garbage and others insulted various shameful
insults. The march ended in the penitent house situated in ten kilometers from
Kararu in Ngobuki city.
It was not easy for him to cope with prison life. He forced himself to lie
down stretching his bones and limbs. His body was aching. The only way he had
to apply was to lie down flat on his belly. In a while, his hair was crawled lice.
The prison has its rules. He was no longer pampering. Other prisoners
accustomed to the place tortured him for he was strange to them. Their crimes
were different. The perpetrators of the genocide looked at Adama with a wicked
eye. His pollution was a burden to him. This feeling of rejection touched him as
he sought possible means to disappear.
His wish came to an end when he jumped through a gap created by
the window glass breaking. He discarded the timbers that covered the gap and
left when others were going for the morning counting. His eyes darted around the
darkest room checking the dangers and found it was safe.
In tarmac road he was frenzied. He had no money. Even Sala’s thawed in
the prison cells. Wondering on where to go between Kararu and to the town, he
noticed a lorry carrying fuel. It was daubed with mud all around its surface. He
dashed on it. He attempted to perch on it. The driver braked to finish him. Adama
cringed to the driver’s anger in the forest near by the tarmac road leading to
Ujamaa country and Kigali town.
Just as the lorry started, he went out of the hiding and waited for a taxi. It
came and the driver led to where he stood gesturing with finger near the thumb
inquiring whether he wanted to leave together with the taxi. His shabby state
attracted the curiosity of passengers inside the moving house when he got
inside. To avoid their gaze, he dug his face between his legs pretending to
imitate someone suffering from intestine troubles or as the ostrich does when
protecting its head from the hunters.

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 They arrived at Renda checking area. The passengers alighted to present
their identity cards. He profited and after presenting his old student card, he
disappeared in the mazes behind the buildings around the police station and
mixed himself with other shabby peasants who were riding their bicycles.

Kaganga and Asumani were eating fish soup and foo-foo. They closed
themselves in their ghetto for protection against gate-crashers, spongers and
police raids. A tip top on the door... The duo did not respond. The tip top grew
into a knock and later it was no longer an ordinary knock but a bang.
By opening half the door, Adama emerged in rags and bare feet. Very
strange! His two friends could not believe their eyes.
“Hey guy! What’s up?” Kaganga asked.
“Have food first. You can’t be satisfied as you look.” Asumani invited in low
voice avoiding the out world to notice them.
“That’s wretched village…Now I am from that strange accommodation.”
“Enjoy the town meal and we will talk about that later.”
They were still under suspect. Every week the police organized a check in
Mamuhi, Ficyaha, and Mbanacyi the places which were hot beds for robbers,
swindlers, whores, gypsies and counterfeiters. Many sans papiers were arrested.
Illegal weapons were caught. The strip-check did not leave the drug addicts,
alcohol dealers especially Kanyanga dealers. No pub or bar was allowed to work
after 22PM. When there was a check Asumani and Kaganga locked themselves
inside their nest.
Adama fell ill of malaria. It was not easy for his friends to help him recover
from malaria. His two roommates grappled with his treatment though there was
no penny to purchase some fraud tablets in the drug store. Yet his condition was
getting poor and the illness worsened by the fact that he barely ate.

BROKEN HEARTS
CHAPTER TWELVE

His recovery had been a discovery of mischief instead of humility.

The village life and prison taught him cruelty and violence. While his two friends
were under fear of arrest, for Adama it was the time to rob on his own. He was
mortal like other human beings, hence selfish and cynic; but he was no longer
caring about his existence. Asumani and Kaganga faltered once he proposed
them to carry out a terrible burglary. They admired the way he blackmailed
phones from women who arrogantly answered calls from their beloved in the
gridlock of the center of the town near the market of Nyarugenge. Adama applied
chain technique of robbery and the person could stay confounded wondering on
the author of the action.
Many times after his recovery he did not agree with Asumani on the
standards of their living. He wanted to ward off Asumani out of their group and
bargain with Kaganga whom he confided in some of his venal plans. He thought
Asumani was sucking and cheating them on the pretext of his scars. Asumani

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only encouraged them by paying a lip service as he stood aloof watching the way
they toiled to get their prey.
One day in the evening, Adama came from the pub and barged in. He
pushed Asumani with elbow towards the wall. Asumani was being sport. He
winced. As he further yelped rubbing the painful arm, Adama began to chew him
out.
“Idiot… You are complaining.” Adama chimed in.
“What have I done that offended you so that you brutalize me this way?”
“You’re cheating on me…”
”What…?”
“Always tomorrow and tomorrow…”
“We agreed on my staying home doing house hold chores and leave
together with you on Fridays. So why do you want to chivvy me into heavy
business knowing well that I seem to be a cripple?”
“Pooh…! I am fed up with your being a parasite. You look for another
house of your own. I can’t put up with your cheeky behaviors.”
“Cheer up man. This guy is still ours. Even though he was axed, he will
try to join us as he recovers. No tangible reason to chuck him out of our
group. I am sure he too cannot withhold the chance to enrich himself using
his active hands.” Kaganga intervened cheering Adama up to end up the
wrangle.
No wiles to flatter Adama to keep him idle as a victim of violent acts. Asumani’s
whys and wherefores were not valid to Adama who was acting the chief of their
gang. Asumani had no family in countryside. His all relatives died some six years
back. The priests who catered for his education could not admit him in the group.
He let them down. Leaving the group he might vegetate. His option was to
surrender to the passions of evil and forbearance. By the time he was twenty
four. His future seemed chimerical. To survive for the rest of his short life as he
thought, he decided to keep his side of the bargain with Adama and Kaganga.
His submission to Adama didn’t bring reconciliation. The situation
worsened when Adama heard slanders from young girls dwelling near by their
ghetto gossiping that Adama robbed somewhere. They added that Adama
philandered in widows with dirty kids who sold fruits around the area. They raised
tensions between Adama and Asumani at their ghetto.
“You possess a talkative mouth. Asuma, I tell you the bare truth, if you
don’t hold your silly words, I will…”
“Why do you always want to offend me with your sharp complaints?” He
defended himself as he moved near the door.
“Imagine a man…and beards like yours who still bootlick me to girls!”
Adama grumbled moving towards Asumani his arms akimbo.
“What have I said that may cost me such severe abuses?”
“You chatted away with those APACOPE girls living around us that I am
not honest. In addition, you told Tina that I am a robber. You better look for
another chat up line without making me the topic of your useless talk. All right…”
“Since when have you found me with those girls?” Asumani pleaded with
sorrow.

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 “You swine…! Shut up your big mouth. I know your big mouth that scatters
words like a radio. You keep secret of what you forget. Anyway, let it be the
beginning and the end. If you ever try again I will crush you son of b….”
“Who are you in this universe? By the way, tongue is an independent
meat!” Asumani teased to raise a duel to conclude that long conflict between
them.
“What are coming to say? Repeat!” He thundered as he whizzed to
Asumani so as to strangle his neck.
Asumani wheezed struggling to wriggle free his grip. Adama started to
give him head-butts exits in the chest. Asumani too scratched Adama on the
belly. Kaganga who was cooking intervened to separate them after he heard their
yelps and stomping inside the room.
Days slipped. Adama cherry picked women to philander with. He buried
Tina’s love. On the other hand, Tina’s love to Adama burnt the heart. It was
mixed with fear and determination. It must be her turn to visit Adama and discuss
everything concerning their love without any fear.
“Tell me, what are the aims of our love?” Adama queried.
“I love you.” She answered with a cryptic smile.
“Simply this…?”
She paused a little time then she muttered,
“I fear you from that time you put me in trial.”
“I am….Am I an animal?” Adama thundered to her as if denouncing what
she came to say.
“No you aren’t.”
“So what…?”
“You know it has been so long that we have been in love and I have been
wishing to build a solid friendship that might bear marriage. I jilted many boys
who dated me to keep my sincerity to you. Time is over now.” Tina put down a
heavy burden that weighed her heart. She felt relieved and she waited for
Adama’s discouraging reply.
“Oooh…! La…! La! Sorry!”
“Sorry for what?”
“Sorry because you were only my darling not fiancée. I still love you but
I can’t involve in such long ever lasting engagement. It’s hard. I am too busy.”
Adama explained to her face to face. Tina’s face turned into a frown and her face
drastically changed.
“Never say it is impossible. Never turn me a gibe. I am ready to
anticipate you. I loved you, I love you and I will always love you. Promise me a
wedding and I am ready to abandon the saved beliefs.”
“I have no financial ability. You better choose another one to replace me
and consult me for some advice.”
“I would rather die spinster than getting married to another boy. I will wait
for you. You impress me much.”
It was at four past thirty. Pupils, employees, students, and other workers
were drifting towards La Fraicheur Avenue exit. As he used to, he stood on the
corner and stared among the crowd taking glance to the females who passed. A

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group of students from APACOPE could be seen in distance. It was a group of
boys walking in pairs exhibited first and girls followed them waggling to show off.
Nema was in the group dressed in blue shirt and khaki skirt that fascinated her
into a young pretty girl.
In her body Adama saw the allure of ultimate sensual possibilities. She cut
quite a dash in her school cloth. He experienced the powerful push of the desire
to possess her. Fortunately, behind came the lorry whizzing. She took refuge to
him. She clasped on his knees, panting with fear. He cuddled her in his arms and
started to introduce talks to her.
“It was going to harm your life.”
“Thank you for your rescue. See you next time!” She requested
apologetically.
“When…?” He asked still grabbing her hands tickling them softly.
“Any time from now...” She answered immediately freeing herself.
Racked by doubts and guilt of thinking about Tina’s real love, he found
himself stacked to dilemma. Sala was also another challenge. She could stalk his
whereabouts and come to him with her ragamuffins. It was rumored that her
husband was among the prisoners who received the presidential amnesty that
amended his sentence. Again the desire for Nema was of much concern and he
had to catch his loot whatever happens.
His dreams came to birth one Sunday. In the Noble’s homestead, there
was a ceremony. Adama spied the necessary information about that ceremony
that gathered cars at the gate and the yard of the Noble’s compound. He planned
to be a gate- crasher.
At the gate he recoiled from knocking. He was somehow nervous and yet
he kept his self confidence. He imagined he might be repudiated or made funny.
He stood there in the quagmires. Others who came behind him freely entered
even the ones with no cars. He fidgeted around the fence watching passively that
place which sheltered the beauty he wanted to possess. The house was extra-
big, a mansion with imported tiles and a mahogany balcony that shined with
different colors. The passages around that mansion were cemented with different
colors. The outside yard was graveled. The passage from the main entrance to
the doors of the houses was plastered by a carpet. His admiration melted with
the feeling to get Nema’s whereabouts in that strange mansion and leave without
smelling the drink from the bosses.
Nema opened the door escorting some of her classmates and noticed
him.
“I hope you have not stayed here for so long.” She invited Adama her lips
shedding an adorable smile that flew Adama to the world of the birds.
He thought to be ushered in crowd of other guests. The reverse occurred.
She led him in a well furnished room with walls plastered with pictures of
Musinga, one of the famous kings of Rwanda. On one end of the room was a
high statue of Ave Maria. It allured his sight. The room was wonderful. He
sneaked every part of that room admiringly and he occasionally took a glimpse
on Nema. She deserved that beauty for everything at home was so beautiful. It
was an inheritance from somewhere, he thought.

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 Mission accomplished. Nema’s actions showed something. She might
easily be tempted. The moment he spent with her at the gate chatting intimately
showed him love. Something missed. Romantic moments-his mind raced with the
desire to apply his hands and tongue test on her or gather his arms round her
height. His ego warned him to wait. She could not rebuff all his offers of
friendship. At the moment Adama initiated his burning intention to Nema.
“Will you visit me to have an expanded talk?”
“I don’t mind provided you show me where you live. But my father is still
an obstacle.”
“He will not be informed.”
The tears of happiness made Tina to plant a kiss on Adama’s cheeks for
reward. Adama experimented something he wished before. They might have
extended their romance, but she was called by her father. He wanted her to
come and bring tobacco leaves to offer to the guests as assigned in the tradition.
It was by then Adama discovered what kind of ceremony held there.
The Noble, a tall fat man with a protruding belly pried Nema as he found
her standing close to Adama. He became pugnacious as he staggered to where
they stood. Nema shoved Adama waving at him and stepped to her father. The
Noble couldn’t help baying at Nema.
“Idiot…What is that wretched nothing was together with you in that
corner?”
The Noble was so furious to the extent that he approached Nema to slap her.
She first avoided his question and flinched backwards as she forged a lie to
defend herself.
“I…I…with…classmates…no…without any…anyone.” Nema stammered
and her body shivered with fear.
“Stop playing with the lion. Tell me that unclean boy before I lash you.”
She kept sullen and bowed her head. Suddenly she burst into a cry. The
Noble reproved her. He removed the belt he girded himself. She slipped and
entered the compound. The Noble struck the lamp on the fence which shattered
into pieces. She was no longer in the lounge. She took refuge in sheets and
locked her room tightly. In bed, she bragged with that godsend and predisposed
nothing to separate her from Adama. She read wealth in him that she swore to
exploit using her beauty as a weapon.
Next day before The Noble was getting himself ready to go on leave for
Dubai, he maundered about Nema’s Behavior for her to hear from his words of
condemnation.
“You had better loathe that thug with no car behaving like a rascal in dark
glasses. He is not even of our group.”
Nema revered The Noble all her life. Her mother divorced from The Noble
when they were still in the diamond country before the 1994 genocide that left the
suspicion among Rwandans. Coming back in the mother land after thirty five
years as a refugee denied the right to live in his country of birth. The Noble, a
businessman grew richer than before. He doled out his money and when the
children demanded an object of great value for their elegance, he complained
that he had no money scratching in his bald-head. What was surprising was that

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he might be counting sheaves of notes, piling the heaps of five thousand and one
thousand notes watching them closely so that the wind might not blow them.
Nema was deprived of her mother’s care and guidance grew up with a
predilection for loving modern city boys. Television served her a model in her
choice. The embers of her wish burnt within her heart. Her choice in clothing was
determined by The Noble who disparaged new trends nasty and yet he imported
them. Adama came when needed.
Their love passed like a launched shuttle. It was barter. It had no stable
limits and orientation as many people call it in different perspectives. Except the
elders who meddle in love bringing in the views mostly based on discrimination
and affluence. Just after the genocide when Rwandans strived to reconstruct
through love, tolerance, a bunch of persons still cherished ethnic identity,
regionalism and wealth the dangers to the unity and reconciliation. Love
improved according to the period looking carefully to the trust that seemed a little.
Persons met and laugh promising love mechanically swallowed by hypocrisy.
The love was suffering from calculation based on money and sexual exploitation,
and then it was moribund as if infected by that long damn lasting disease
gnawing antibodies rife in post genocide Rwanda.
He thought his friendship with Nema was a baby to care about not to
faint and collapse. She was a day student. This eased Adama’s evil plans that
Nema might not decipher. The doctor of Sodomization won his must as he
expected. They melted into one unknowingly.
The Noble, when around he kept suspicion on her coming home late after class.

“What do you do at school which delays you to come on time?”

“Rehearsals of what we have studied are scheduled to be held at school so

that we can pass the exams without any interference.” She might retort to the
Noble.
Only her intimate gossip friend knew the secret of where she stayed. She
prided herself in that apparatus Adama gave her. She bought some sweet items
like biscuits, chocolates and sweets that distracted her seatmate during lessons.
Her classmates who knew the meanness of the Noble wondered on where she
picked money from.
Queen of beauty in her early teens-no girls in line up of the city could beat
her. A few of them feared spots on their legs and camouflaged them with long
skirts. Those who felt themselves modern like the elites wore trousers that
tightened them and some drawing the shape of their sexes. Others let their backs
hang and the whole situation seemed nasty. Those with pretty chops had big
breasts or complained of being nearly dwarfs. Those with medium size and pretty
face were a rarity. Nema was well built, light-skinned with dimples. Her body
softened like that of an infant. She was not an artificial like the city ones who
forged beauty in cosmetics. Her beauty in his eyes was natural and original. Tina
too was beautiful but Nema was the first.

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 He dreamt that anytime he might be dispossessed of Nema. He loved her
crazily. Whenever he itched on her, he dialed her number. Every time she
needed money and his touches; she biped him. Having successfully stolen his
heart, she colonized him emotionally to offer whichever thing she yearned.
As days increased she was obsessed by Adama. Her long term memory
was no longer sharp. In the examination period, she packed her school bag with
notebooks, books, pens, pencils and mathematical box and led to Adama’s
ghetto. At school while others busied with the intense study in groups, she
remained indifferent sitting alone in back seats. There she composed poems of
love and when tired, she played with NOKIA touches directing the snake to the
food in snake kenzia game.
In the exams of the final term, she looked up in the sky and began to
nibble the cover of her pen. When the invigilators stopped focusing on her, she
looked greedily at her crib sheet that she posted on her left thigh. The room
teemed with invigilators. They passed near her from time to time and men among
them got troubled by the way she sat legs apart exposing her respectful room.
She must have been cheating, one lady among the team guessed. She stormed
on her when she engrossed on copying answers from that paper. To discard
discontinuation, she wrestled with the lady fiercely to get that proof. To her
chance, she managed to snatch it from her and jaw it, the scene that astounded
everybody in the room even her classmates who were challenged by the exam
about mathematics algebras and probabilities. The lady in glasses tore her
answers’ sheet and ordered her to begin anew. She badly needed the mark to
pass in senior five not the skills. She was shocked as she sat idly in her seat.
When the number of invigilators reduced to one to control the whole room, she
attempted to allure her seatmate to assist her. The guy covered his palms on the
answers as he wrote fast the answers without taking much time drawing them
from the sky as many of his classmates did. With sarcasm, he chuckled at her,
“Answers of a miserable boy like me cannot award you the degree. Even
when they may do so, I am not the Jesus of malingers like you. Use your
serenades to solve these sinus equations.”
In partial exams she counted three failures including the math which
haunted her much. In final exam, she had to do whatever she could to overcome
that lesson. The number of invigilators decreased. She got chance to disturb her
seatmate. She made it a sine qua non condition. She was too big for her boots.
She moved closer to him pulling his copy. The serious and the selfish boy Timba
covered his sheet of paper as a bird brooding over its eggs.
“Please put your booklet aside so that I can copy and paste your answers
easily.”
Timba kept silent and went on flowing x and y on his answers’ sheets. The
man who was invigilating the room left the room to answer back somebody’s call.
Nema snatched Timba’s plain booklet. They fought each other. Timba wiggled to
get back his copy and Nema let it crumple into fold. Shame stricken, he bowed to
her. Those who followed the event giggled. The invigilator stayed out laughing on

86
the phone. Timba watched his every movement that marked the pleasure he had
at the time. Timba got the brainwave in his head as he brushed Nema off and
recovered his booklet. She got frightened by the arrival of the invigilator and
yielded to Timba. She continued her drawings expecting to enshroud her answer
booklet and complain to the math teacher. She hoped for success. The math
teacher used to help those who stumbled to cross the river in deluge.
The proclamation day was welcomed warmly by the students of APACOPE.
They were eager to listen to Nema’s dismissal out of that school. A mystery
happened. She passed. Amazement among her classmates…Good news to
Adama-he had to congratulate her on that success.
Next academic year, she was admitted to another school in countryside.
They were still building other premises to expand its area. The opening of the
academic year was postponed. That became a good occasion for Nema to
prolong her erotic pleasures with Adama during that one week. They arranged
visits to Muhazi lake, sitting on the beach contemplating the wiggling of water
wave , sharing delicious food and drinks, their eyes filled with admiration of some
beautiful birds with lovely feathers that made Muhazi lake in that valley of the
East an extra-ordinary place.
That week was boring to Kaganga and Asumani. Adama was no longer
talking to them. He evicted them out of their warm bed. The two squatted on bare
cement late in the midnight where they coveted the touches of Nema in Adama’s
hair and the way she climbed him pampering as a toddler. He acted in nearly
lunatic way when it came to her propositions. In her presence he was almost
awkward. She was a magnet and Adama was a piece of steel that had to be
attracted instead of being pushed aside. The two forces of different poles
depicted in physics!

A day before her departure to school was marked by serious quarrels

between her and Asumani. The trigger was the removed curtain.
“I saw you putting aside the curtain peeping us. You are jealous of me.
Why don’t you look for another house?” She nagged angrily staring at him
scornfully nearly to humiliate him.
“Speak whatever you need. Remember that forewarned is fore armed.
We will meet somewhere needing my assistance.
“May it never happen…!”
The headmistress of the new school was sensitive to students who
skipped class or who logged out. The most sacrilege she hated was the student
who failed to report to school on time. If it happened, she could send the student
to summon the parents to give more explanations about his or her delay.
Discipline was compulsory in that priest owned school that stood out in the center
of huge forest on the peak of Rushashi district. The school was a model on
collective activities and it was hailed for its seriousness.

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 Her return to school was special. Nema was carried in a carriage. Adama
walked proudly with Nema towards the head mistress’s office. He explained her
delay with his counterfeited justification. Before the head mistress allowed Nema
to study, she inquired Adama,
“Is this lady your sibling or your relative?”
”Oh yes…! She is my niece.”
“Do try to advice her. If she misbehaves I will expel her out this school.”
The headmistress warned Adama and she turned to Nema and was taken aback
at seeing her nails painted red, jewelries of various colors and her lips shining
with oil and shaven eyelashes. The nun could not put up with those attires.
“Please, here we give education to change the history of our country to
the best not to prepare future harlots. Take water from this basin and wash off
those awesome items on you. Give me all those items on your arms.” The
headmistress commanded.
Adama engaged himself in high class theft. He did not fear to snatch
mobile phones in burials and in the gatherings where persons mourned for the
departed souls. He wore the mauve cloth in the neck and black suit in order to
profit from the sorrow of the mourners. His goal was to please Nema, a
secondary school. Once he narrated what he did, Asumani could not support him
and he decided to caution him although he might be offended.
“Don’t take me wrong, but that immature girl who is eighteen will cost you to
wear those pink uniforms twenty years. You know well that the government is
sensitive to child abuse and rape.
Without any word of explanation, Adama leapt over Asumani to punch his
nose. Asumani bowed and Adama hit the wall and his wrist bled. He didn’t bother
about the flowing of blood. With rage, he picked a handle to smash his head.
Kaganga intervened to end up the bust up.
“Cut it out and go to bed. You quarrel over those females as if you paid
dowry to their families. Who of you has mothered Nema?”
“That’s twice. The third time will conclude this tension between me and
you. I will even slaughter you and be returned in the cells. You are not as
important as my relatives who died. Do you hear me? You better shut your big
mouth or I shut it for you.” Adama intimidated Asumani shaking his head with
dissatisfaction.
“It is not an aggression. As a brother whom I have shared the experiences
with, I cannot keep quiet when I find something that put you in boiling water. To
tell you that measures are applied on men who trap little girls might not vex you.
“I know what I am doing. Incase I make her expectant, I will marry to her and
I hope she cannot accuse me of rape.” Adama defended himself.
“Never say that I didn’t caution you.” Asumani added in delicate tone.
“I don’t yield to defeatism like you. I am sure what I do is not degenerate
because rich businessmen can beat me in the championship.”
“I hereby order you to stop these nonsense talks.” Kaganga commanded in
fiery temper.

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 Nema got fame throughout Nkubarwa complex school that harbored about
1000 students. This was due to her arrogance and the way she deigned her
classmates. In the dormitory, she spent time standing in front of the mirror dyeing
her hair, cleaning her face that was beginning to burst small spots deriving from
various types of lotion she applied on her skin. When she caught sight with the
mistress of discipline, she removed everything to show that she prepared to take
a shower.
Authorities kept their decorous quality in controlling the learners’ discipline,
peace, harmony and welfare. While in other surrounding schools was the
rampant genocide ideology, Nkubarwa complex school was in good mood.
Students helped one another due to guidance and admonishing of their school
authorities. Religion and order played a great role in changing positively students’
attitudes and thinking. The morning assembly was compulsory. On queues,
students sang the national hymns and prayed before the teacher on duty gave
the speech of the day. The rehearsal of their courses was obligatory to be done
under the supervision of chosen invigilator on duty. Mess time too was more
obliged than other activities and had its regulations. Every student ate with a fork,
spoon and knife. Their plates were alike. Green plastic cups and orange colored
plastic plates called 707. Pepper, fruits or other imported food was banned in
refectory. Failures to obey these rules, parents were summoned to explain that
disobedience. That’s the true communalism. Every activity was patterned. For
Nema, she transgressed all these rules. Every day she was on the pitch of
punishment. The headmistress pitied her. As a guide and leader she needed to
know why Nema did the exception of what other students followed.
“What’s wrong with you?” The headmistress queried in parental assured
voice.
She shivered and winked repeatedly. She turned her back and read the
poetic words hanged on the wall of the headmistress’s office. The headmistress
asked her difficult question again and Nema woke up from absent-mindedness to
reply.
“Forgive me mummy, forgive me, I….I…” She stammered trembling
intensely.
“What have you done to be punished that way?” The headmistress
questioned with her pen and files in front of her to record something from that
investigation.
“I left the school premises without permission. But I beg your pardon
Mummy.” She confessed in sobs.
“It is a complete debunk. Don’t fall in that mistake again. Before you go,
sign in this register and swear that you won’t violate any school regulations.” The
headmistress commanded with much authority wiping her loupes.
“But…..but…but….” Nema blurted out.
“What then?”
“I need permission of two days.” She begged.
“For what…?”

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 “I need some materials for school.”
“I hope you are not leaving for fiddle. Any time I get the news about any
act of immorality from you, I will sack you out of my school. Do you listen to me?”
“I assure you of honesty and I can’t let my self-esteem down.” She
fobbed off a bit fluster
She flounced out of the office with a sheet of paper.
She had to travel to Gariki. Her idol had been spending some time
without visiting her. Was he still caring about her? She worried as she loaded her
school bag with a wrapper and a few notebooks for a journey.

BROKEN HEARTS
CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Customary, Sala thought her brother in law; the chief of the family
was committed to life imprisonment. She reigned in cupidity misusing every part
of the property she owned. Gacaca courts already initiated confounded her not
for she participated in Genocide perpetration, but she feared the release of her
husband’s sibling perjured due to his brother’s responsibility in the carnage.
During the mourning week commemoration of genocide event, detainees did
mea-culpa admitting their responsibilities. A great number of them were
absolved. At first their release created fear in victims of their incomparable
mischief. They found no justice in that political of presidential grace.
Sala pleaded against Magorwa whom she wanted to perish in jail. Still
in the uniform of the prison, the rose that color of affection, Magorwa argued with
Sala who agitated the panel of Gacaca upright persons who sat on a long bench
waiting to save Magorwa. Many hands up wanted to speak positively on
Magorwa behalf. They witnessed for his innocence.
By the time Magorwa joined the prison officials to be approved,
Sala’s only daughter with Magorwa caught pneumonia. Sala invented the
medicine of her own concoction, tincture in overdose. The patient died
prematurely after consuming those herbs. Sala mourned alone and got a
few number of candid neighbors who pitied for her and helped her bury
the little child.
Alone in the room she murmured “Magorwa will say I killed the child
intentionally.”
His welcome in Kararu was warm. He passed by every homestead.
Some of the refugees who were in different bordering countries were
back. Life signs looked reintegrated. The place that used to hide hares by
then was a playground for kids who turned the whole place setting traps to
catch those small tame birds or rodents.

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 The neighbors received him with a gourd of local brew. He drank
with attention avoiding losing equilibrium. Kararu was changed as he
noticed. He was impressed by flowers he found in the yards of each
homestead that ushered him in the life again. Cows were increasing in
Kararu and some hills which were once upon deprived of plants, by then
harbored huge plantations of banana and maize cobs that attracted birds
and monkeys to have their share.
Magorwa’s compound was changed. The front yard of the house
flanked with weeds. At the entrance of the house, few insects flew here
and there. Every thing was scattered. No cows in pens…No goats except
the manure packed in the stables. He turned round his house and saw a
small hut which intimidated him. Behind it planted a cross. He went
towards where he used to put seeds, but no granary was around except
ruins. He led to the house to spy every part of it. Two children ran unto
him shouting, saliva dripping on their dirty clothes.
“Daddy, daddy, daddy coming…!”
“Where is mummy?”
“In room daddy…There….” They blabbered in chorus pointing to
the room that looked a pigsty.
He bore with the flea sting and walked to the living room wiping out
the spider’s webs that blocked the way. Sala broke into tears and wept
louder than before and through her tears of confession came the voice,
“I wasn’t meant to kill her.”
“What have you done?”
“Dead recently…Tincture-daughter- forgives me.”
”My daughter…I confess my crime.” She knelt for courtesy.
“I know you wanted me to die in jail. You discarded my daughter
away to warn me indirectly. You have mistaken yourself. God is my shepherd
and my protector. He knew well that I didn’t kill anyone. Since you have opposed
me openly, I say pack up your belongings and leave me in peace.”
“Pity…! Where will I go this time?”
Don’t be childish with your silly questions.” He retorted searching a
can of water and lacrette to reduce dust in the house.
She remained confused in yard waiting for his last word. He had
already locked himself indoors. Sala pushed the door open with much fright.
Magorwa opened to listen to her. She started to coerce him.
“If you could listen to me…” Sala coaxed Magorwa twisting her arms
round his neck to fondle him.
“Take away your sinful fingers.” He yelled at her distancing himself from
her grope. He pointed to the lounge where he had made a bed for her.
“Lie down peacefully. Don’t come to lay your height beside me. Before
you go to bed, pack up your belongings and leave tomorrow in the cockcrows.”
“You’ll be luck if you forgive me. I promise I am ready to be faithful to you
and protect you from the invisible eyes dwelling in this land.”
“Invisible what…?”
“I was only joking.”

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 “I never fear death when I am right.” Magorwa announced tersely.
If you can’t beat them, join them! Sala spent half the night telling Magorwa
daggers which did not distract his mind. Defeated in first cockcrows she started
to pack whatever she called hers. It was as if she wanted to cleanse the house.
She loaded her suitcase with needles, clothes, portraits that once embellished
the house, some cooking pans, pairs of shoes,…Having noticed that everything
was packed, she took a small bundle that contained her charms and power of
invisible and unwrapped it to splash the content in cassava pot. Satisfied with her
preparation, she called Magorwa for telling him the last word. She wore a frown
mixed with the sentiments of offense that made Magorwa wonder.
When the day broke, Magorwa felt an earthquake. Everything in the
house stirred and clinked. As he set to wake up, he heard the voice calling his
name. The voice at one moment sounded of Sala and at another moment, it
sounded that of his dead wife. He woke up to answer those miraculous calls. He
was surprised by the voice that hummed where pots and other kitchen utensils
were kept. He picked his spear and arrow from the far end of the room corner
and went to chase that unfaithful man Sala left in the house. He was tightened
unawares and his knees sagged.
Coming round from the inertia of about ten minutes, he stood up and
wiped his hips. In the process of cleaning every part of his body that looked
dusty, something thudded back and tossed him until it felled him down, his legs
apart in the sky. Those were the invisible eyes Sala once hinted at the day
before. The evils sought to end his life. They had to finish him even when he
might appease them with pellets of meat in their shrines.
Down on the floor covered with dust and potholes, Magorwa used
hearing capacity and was stiffened to the fact the ability to grope for something to
cover his nude chest missed. Humming sounds puffing something screamed and
yelled at Magorwa. It changed into a mixture of clinking metals accompanied by
cheeps of birds. Out of these chaos sorted out thunderous voice that chewed out
him.
“You chased our cherub mother thinking to live peacefully. Bring her back
or you remain chained here all long your life. We are the evils’ emissaries and
our mission is to commiserate Sala by brutalizing persons like you. If you doubt,
open your eyes and look through that chink.”

Magorwa was molested by terrible beasts resembling gorillas with long

horns and jaws outwards of their cheeks. Their teeth flashed with glowing fire of
blood. Iron fingers covered their arms. Magorwa found himself chattering his
teeth with cold whining.
He was called naughty and sullen from morning to night. The hut that
enshrined the invisible forces burnt itself mysteriously. Its thatch remained alone
in the sky. It attracted the curiosity of persons who used to pass by there. From
then immigrants who lived in Kararu became fearful due what they witnessed
with their own eyes.
No matter what he could, he did not manage to vanquish those evil spirits
that bound him to house about one week. The bad spirits themselves announced

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that Magorwa’s freedom was in Sala’s hands. She might come and clear them
out of their nest or appease them to calm down.
One week later, Magorwa escaped the jail of the invisible and became
fugitive. Where he took refuge, he was attacked by powers that made his body
feeble. When his neighbors prayed for him, he gained life again. Things
worsened when he set his feet on the land that used to be his. He hoped that the
spiritual invocation could cleanse the area and neutralize such bold and cruel
invisible eyes. Could pastors, human beings in the captivity of a sin the
pretenders as the cynical critics called wage a war against such forces like sound
waves in the sky?
A terrible battle between Gisaka wizards and the ADPR church members
was about to break. The wizards believed in rituals and the power of evil spirits
through incantation. They thought that purity and cleansing came from those
powers. Priests for Gisaka, wizards and witch doctors landed mysteriously on
Kararu, precisely in Magorwa’s land. They flaunted in the homestead with lit
sticks, pots of honey and gourds of beer. They were strangely dressed in long
blankets covering their whole bodies. They covered their heads with rabbits’
skins. Behind them was the old man who smoked his pipe, jumping in every
direction, dandled a cock he had and it landed on his head beating its feathers. It
seemed to have enjoyed that continuous bouncing which filled it with pride and
majesty. This exhibition amused some intrepid persons who gathered a distance
to watch that show.
When the delegation from Gisaka approached the thatch that lingered
alone in the sky, a group of ADPR Christians emerged on a single file, walking
humbly as if escorting the corpse to the tomb, their bibles and hymns books in
their chests. Magorwa too was with them dressed in a white blouse. They
stepped to the place singing some songs. The thatch flung violently in the centre
of the delegation. The whole delegation was stunned. While ADPR delegation
invoked the holly spirit in unison, raising hands in the sky, some of them hollering
Jesus’ name, others beating hands on the soil to curse and grind Satan under
their feet sores, the spectators withdrew and went aloof to watch the scene.
Suddenly, the delegation from Gisaka heard a voice warning them.

“The place is holly. There is someone from heaven. Let us evict the
place. We are dying very soon.”
The delegation of tradition believers from Gisaka floundered dazed,
rubbing their eyes as if they came from smoke. The end of the prayer marked the
victory of Christ against animists, and Magorwa approached his former house
with that congregation. They smashed old pots, gourds and trays. Even the skull
of Impala that was hung above the bed was burnt. Everything that related to the
bad spirits was removed.

BROKEN HEARTS
CHAPTER FOURTEEN

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 The city was changing rapidly from day to day. The main parking and its
surrounding areas grew hedged cypress trees. Street children came out of
Gobugonya Bridge and squatted behind those trees and gambled. The group
rested themselves lying flat on their backs with bottles of glue on their noses for a
sniff. Those who felt sober among them gazed at each taxi enviously as if the
drivers owned them a pay. The strong ones raced behind it not bothering about
other cars that teemed in the street. Their target was to inspect the baggage it
carried so that they might scramble to unload and porter them.
With her two sons, she got from unknown men, whom Adama may be one
of them; she stayed on the other side of the road looking angrily at Garakimisa.
Urban persons in a crush crossed the road passing by the zebra crossing lines.
Sala watched surprisingly and passively the way cars and persons wrestled
along the street. She didn’t know the black and white lines were there to facilitate
pedestrians to cross easily. Instead she turned next to the flickering of traffic
lights, the go and fro of cars in town and the hawkers who turned round exposing
their articles. It became an advantage for them to haggle out their toys and other
items that attracted Sala’s sons.
In those havocs came many small shabby children, dressed in dusty rags
with patches and which had never known water and soap. They encased her
watching enviously her beg. One of these wretched children pretended to be a
lunatic. He bounced trying to twist his wrist as a contortionist. He thrashed about
screaming and almost every person stood and watched passively the
supernatural physical exercise meant to fool careless persons. Another child
joined them from somewhere in the ditch carrying a bundle of rotten oranges that
he flung into a group of on-lookers. Looking at what happened to them; he took
off his dirty clothes. He bobbed up and down vigorously. He went on practicing
his antics and his teammates started to hook the pockets of the trapped persons.
Sala’s bag was the first to be displaced.
Recovered from laughter, she sensed everywhere to stalk her bag. She
received a loud roaring from the street children bagging at her. She stumbled to
cross the road with her two sons who clung to her. In half of the road came
another queue of vehicles. The drivers pressured by that rush hour of the noon
parked and gestured her to cross quickly.
She walked in the whole area where premises of Gobugonya, despite
soot and rusty iron sheets, the boutiques fringed with palm oil, mattresses,
pillows, pieces of shoes, bags, different types of fashion, sheets; all of which
made her drool. She left Gobugonya market area called Kandahar and pushed
with the sellers of vegetables and fruits going up to La Fraicheur Avenue.
“He must be living in this area. These young boys are namedropping about
him. Eh…he mugs! I don’t matter. I have to mortify him by removing closer with
him.” She talked to herself fanning her sweaty face due to the heat.
A misty cloud heralding rain engulfed the sky. Every one was agitated.
Sellers took their articles inside the shops. House girls and houseboys rushed to
put the clothes of their bosses inside the house. A bunch of young boys stood by
the side of the market wrapped their tents and crammed them in mini-bar that
quenched the thirst of traders. The passers by rushed to the balconies of

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Kandahar boutiques to find a harbor from the forthcoming storm. Those with
money stopped motorbikes to fly them to their shelters.
The moor of Gobugonya could no longer be seen. It was completely
enveloped in fog. In a short while, the fierce breeze and tropical thunderstorm
grumbled. Far away eastwards, flashes of lightning replaced one another in the
sky as heavy droplets of rain flung down on muddy soil. They fell violently as if
they were meant to pierce the earth’s belly.
Where Sala harbored to the far end of Gobugonya market near La
Fraicheur bar, the wind whizzed furiously humming, shaking stoles of the small
houses and bringing the scent of skewers from that bar, which intensified Sala’s
hunger.
In a little time, few of La Fraicheur’s roofs flew away and their poor ceilings
hanged angrily in the sky leaving their owners in serious wonders and miseries.
Torrents of water flowed from hills surrounding Gobugonya like Rija, Mwabuta
and Bwimo. In no time, the mist cleared off and the valley of Gobugonya stood
out in terrible floods. You could not trace the river itself.
Sala was musing over her lost sons. On one side, she wondered on where
they disappeared and how they could survive. On the other side, she avoided
such languid thoughts. She averted her gaze on the gushing of dirt water mixed
with wastes of carcasses of old tins, bones, banana peels and all sorts of debris
and detritus.
The road was muddy despite being tarred. To walk, one had to take his
long skirt upwards to avoid stains of dirty water rolling in the road. Men tucked
the ends of their trousers into their socks. Despite the cold, movements in La
Fraicheur Avenue went on. Hawkers were still touting for their items. They
profited from that drizzling rain. No cops along the way. Kanyanga dealers
trafficked in it very easily.
She thought that persons alongside the road cared for her and she
started to walk swinging her height imitating city ladies she used to find. In her
waddling to impress the persons, she dilapidated. The giggling of persons on
both sides of the road filled the area and mixed with her squealing and made her
courageous to rise up shrinking her sleeve nylon skirt imbibed in water. She felt
thorn in her flesh and blamed her carelessness. In that crush, two thugs escaping
the police van that landed unexpectedly, something strange during that rain;
passed by her flying and sprinkled pellets of mud on her clothes. Sala stood
agape cursing those thugs. Fortunately, darkness camouflaged her. She was
facing trials and tribulations in her introduction to Kigali town.
To live in Kigali, one has to tighten his or her belt and toil to gain daily
bread. The principle of doling is not disparaged. To heap money, the majority of
people hardly eat twice a day. Sometimes it may not be necessarily for the
purposes of gathering money that an individual starves. Instead it is due to the
lack of means and money. Whether some people have kept the schemes of thrift,
there has been a high rate of inequality between the haves and the poor in Kigali.
Sala noticed that as she compared Mamuhi and other areas with big mansions
fenced with sekanyolya wires in Marera and Cyiruka, quarters for advanced rich
persons who heralded the vision of dreams of Kiganewyork of 2020.

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 She wondered as she wandered in the unknown area about three hours.
The lamps that scattered in the whole area like the stars served references for
her. She knocked on one house. A benefactor welcomed her and ushered in the
lounge. She thought she was going to get cured of her hunger, but the family
who was eating switched on the TV and invited Sala to watch a program about
perpetrators’ testimonies confessing on how they were forced to attend and
“work” to dispatch Watusi to Haile Selassie and get power, lands and cattle.
Flashbacks of the carnage were shown. Sala’s main focus was on that delicious
food denied to her.
“At least in Kararu, I consumed every product from the hoe. These are the
bitter fruits of my misdeeds and the penalty I am facing is valid. Anytime I miss
Adama, Magorwa will never confiscate that land. My charms will end his
existence. “She thought to herself.
Next day in the morning she woke up and found the daybreak safely. She
juggled on how she might be engaged in that family as a servant. She swept the
lounge. She wiped spider webs and soot which dirtied he walls and the ceiling.
She also made the table and waited for the whole family to gather round the
morning table so that she could tell them her wish. Sitting on the table, she
looked up and introduced her proposal.
“I wanted you to hire me as a servant.”
“A servant…! How much do you need for a pay?” The chief of the family
asked still chuckling.
“At least ten thousands…” She answered firmly defying the disdain from
the family on her.
“No vacancy…” The husband and wife still in their pajamas answered her.
Sala shook her head with disbelief and continued to stir her porridge cup
to make it cooler. Suddenly, she was caught by an anguish that gripped her
throat and pellets of tears started to flow. Through those tears she sobbed and
bellowed,
“Please, engage me for free.”
”We are sorry. You’re respectful. No woman of your age can work this
complicating job in which the victims feed on packet of fear and abuse. I see you
workaholic, but I say no!” The woman denied completely touching in her
husband’s chest.
She wondered from door to door begging for a paying job or food. Her
trek made her a bull in china shop. She was not squeamish. She withstood the
insults and critical remarks of those who complained that she bugged their
conversation and other variety of activities. A beggar is an object of suspicion-a
respectable one is doubly so.
Empty stomach…She gradually gave up the hope and sank exhausted on
the door of one of the slums behind 1930 accommodation found at Mamuhi. The
windows held light that shined through the sleeves. Her soles let out sores that
ached violently. She panted heavily. She flexed her weary arms to keep on her
trip. She accidentally banged on the door of that old house. It was by then she
realized that she had to try her chance again in order to find a rest for her sides
and height.

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 That time Adama, Kaganga and Asumani lived a hermit life during the
day. The check and security of Mamuhi was intensified. A rumor spread from the
hearsay that their forty days were about to complete. Sala’s knock was a snag for
them. They all sniveled at it. She paused for while snooping through the windows
that were half open. She might not leave without attempting to apply for a
vacancy, food or water to drink. She felt destitute.
The knock died out. The trio felt released and smuggled up themselves in
sheets and started their chat. Their topic centered on love issues, something that
Asumani reviled. He wanted to introduce a talk about going back to school by
seeking support from funds like Tumurere and some others that sponsored the
education of children who dropped out. Something disturbed them again.
Knock…Knock…The knock resumed. She staggered near and heard male
voices in ghetto. The name Adama mentioned inside it cured her fainting from
over walking and hunger. She increased her knock. She couldn’t live unless she
met Adama.
“Asumani, you open for Nema. She has conditioned me with her way of
knocking.” Adama commanded.
“Remember to clear out those peels of oranges.” Kaganga reminded
Asumani.
Sala who was jaded with her pursuit of job sank in warn stool, the only
seat the trio had. She first ordered a cup of water to soothe her burning throat.
After gaining relief, she sighed and winced as if she suspected Asumani. Finally
she asked,
“Is Adama around?”
“Maybe…! Where are you from?”
“From Kararu…I am fed up with the village life.” Sala announced proudly.
“Why?”
“I have claustrophobia because of living there.”
“Umh…The time will come when you become jaundiced in order to get
lives. Remember, this is Kigali, a place for persons with wits.” Asumani warned
her.
“I have suffered much these days. I have not been living with my husband.
Yes, with Adama I will be living peacefully.” She proudly announced to Asumani.
Her words alarmed Asumani to go into the room to caution Adama about
the incident. Sala’s invasion was planned awkwardly but it casually happened.
Adama was a bit callous. He moisturized his face and stepped out of the
room losing candor. She was filled with pleasure and stood to embrace him. He
just snubbed her and yelled at her furiously,
“Get out here before you put us into troubles!”
“Where will I go then?” She shouted back at him and stood to adjust her
blouse. She stood arms akimbo and pouted at him and his mood changed. He
approached forward to punch her. She burst into tears. She got her lump off her
chest and gathered stamina to fill the gap created by the nearly lack of breath
and scolded Adama,
“Thief…My cow…Give me back my money.”
“Who are you?” He asked humbly with fright.

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 “You survived the machete and clubs carried by those barbaric killers. You
involved in cheating me knowing that my husband was in jail. You ate his
property and sought refuge with hope I wouldn’t waylay you and catch you.
Yewe…! You have mistaken the universe…No hiding in Rwanda….I have not
chickened out of asking my pay. Besides, thank God I find you alive and I am
going to marry you.”
“Sala …? Are you still alive?”
“Don’t pretend.”
“At your knees I bow begging you pardon. The project I initiated failed.
Thieves robbed my shop and I am striving to recover from that loss. Therefore
we are living in this small hell.”
“No explanation…I am erring. I am also starving because of you. Since
God revealed me your destination, you pay me and marry to me.” She
announced still keeping her steam.
Kaganga and Asumani followed the bust-up sitting on the fence. They
waited impatiently for the solution. Adama felt cheap in her eyes and fidgeted
nibbling away his thumb. Nothing scared him, but Sala’s coming made him
tremble. He had only one thousand francs note for Irish potatoes and soda for
Nema who might come at any time. Accepting to marry Sala, they might perish in
misery and hardships of family duties. Should he go back to Kararu to beg his
inheritance and sell it to pay back Sala’s debt, he wondered. He sat inside the
house in great silence and didn’t notice that the electricity was cut short. He sat
speechless tête á tête with Sala who yawned unceasingly. He was chafed by that
unexpected visit.
After the long silence about half an hour musing over the issue, he came
to the solution. Going together with Sala in pub and slop off after getting her
drunk should work. The electricity power was restored. He stood and removed a
fleck of dust out of Sala hair and told her,
“I have made up my mind and found it my duty to…to… Sala I love you so
much. I really remember that you have me taught many things I would never
have got even when I could study PHD. So I am ready to marry to you. Escort
me somewhere I can meet owners of cheap decent houses. You see this one is
old and not comfortable for a couple.”
“Thank you! I knew very well you could not reject me like ingrate persons
do for the ones they have cherished.”
“I can’t. I am a man of respect except those plights I met.” He retorted
slyly.
A bottle of Mutzig worked miracles for her. She had no other thing in
stomach. She was caught very fast. She seemed drunk but she did not flag.
Adama ordered skewers and roasted potatoes and waited for fruition. As usual
his hands worked their job of fondling not for sexual interests. He nudged her
with the purpose to disappear. His plan succeeded and Sala remained in
Tarinyota pub built in Goryobi, a place known for its stars in various domains
including prostitution, robbery, counterfeit and drunken orgies.
While she slumbered with a bottle in her left hand and a wire of skewers in
another hand, drunkards in bar filled the air with their smell coming from their

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 barracking praising the yeasted banana and sorghum mixture with water, that
source of life, that word which fills the world with hope for today and for
tomorrow. Various church songs were distorted to meet the wishes of those
drunkards. It seemed a congregation with a drunken pastor preaching about
Jesus’ miracles at Kana of Galilee when the wine shortened. It wasn’t easy for
the Tarinyota owner to chuck them out of his pub transformed into a church. He
could not tell who paid or who left without paying.
She was completely drunk and she snorted letting flatulent air
accompanied by farts. The bar’s invective could not make her come round.
Whenever she stood, she felt a zombie shaking her sideways. Her skirt
was folded and covered with vomits. The more she became sober, the more she
recalled of a man they were together. The name hid from her memory. At last
she burst out the name Adama in hoarse voice.
She was broken-hearted next day when she roamed in Goryobi and
Mboraminya searching for Adama and a paying job. Wherever she entered, she
begged for a ticket. Her ambition to heap much money to buy some small objects
for trade that might give her a room in Kigali drove her to Mboraminya brigade
door. The policeman in blue and black trousers uniform with well shone shoes
followed Sala’s narrative dominated by complaints. She thought the man was
benevolent. She was astounded when the man ordered her to climb up Toyota
Isuzu that transported the arrested persons to other prisons stations. There was
no cell left in Mboraminya jail.
Surrounded by two cops with the muzzles of AK47 pointed at her, she was
very frightened. The wind blew her blouse and it flew it upwards exposing her
nakedness and her magic skin she bought from Ngobuki fell in the street. She
ran helplessly in that Toyota screaming for the police to stop. Instead the driver
speeded. Sala approached the front part to perch on it so as to signal the driver
to go back. She lost balance and fell heavily in the road.

BROKEN HEARTS
CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Nkubarwa complex school is well built. It accommodates girls and few boys
from Bio-chemistry and Math and Physics students. The two blocks joined by the gardens
of daffodils and lilacs looked at each other boastfully, each one vaunting its achievement
in technology. Math students hailed their advanced technology in astronomy manipulating
heavy weapons and their formulas in integrals. Bio- Chemistry showed off their acid and
basic formulas to make various products. Such disputes mattered a lot because of the
match of football that had to oppose the two blocks marking Nkubarwa fiftieth
anniversary.
The school’s area normally covered by weeds that accommodated snakes were clipped
during those three days of Nema’s absence at school. The classes were painted yellow.
Gardens were trimmed and the whole area looked marvelous. The festival of the parish

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was a great day in Nkubarwa and its vicinity. It was a terrific day that required much brew.
A bull was to be slaughtered. Two days before, the situation was warm.
It was during break. Students were running in all directions. Some were going on short
call, others walked for their fun and the senior students sat under a shade of a huge tree
that harbored senior six Bio-chemistry classroom. They discussed about various subjects
predominantly Nema’s case and the match that was to oppose makers and pure
scientists.
Nema felt the weight of the world on her shoulders as she drew back to Adama. Maybe,
she hoped the guy could save from the headmistress’s red eyes. Adama found the
jeopardy in facing that nun again and sought ways to dodge. He fumbled for a note of five
thousand Rwandan francs to appease her anxiety cunningly.
“With this little money, look for peasant to stand for you. If the situation comes to the
worst, do come back and see how we can regulate the issue.” He planted a kiss on her
cheeks and got down Ndago Mountain leaving Nkubarwa.
Nema waited for the night fall in Ndago forest. She leafed through papers of biology
notebook to overcome loneliness. When it was a little bit dark, she crept through the pegs
that built the school compound near the latrines and led to the dormitory.
The mistress of discipline, a young beautiful lady with an authoritative gait when she
caught any student in the wrong, was using to check the number of students in the
dormitory. Not only counting their numbers, she also noted the number of beds which
were not made properly. It was easy to catch the unduly students who might spend the
night out. During the check, Nema covered herself with blankets and ordered her
roommates to heap bags and other objects on her.
She led a rebel life during one week feeding on milk and cake. Sometimes her bad mate
pitied for her and kept some food for her every time she was chosen to be on duty for
catering sick students. Though she ate and drunk, she was not placid at all. Besides her
temporary dismissal was increased another serious issue. It was the second week
missing her periods. Body complications like the stomachache and suffocation mixed with
nausea haunted her.
Nema couldn’t have been caught if she had kept quiet. Her quarrel with one senior girl
from math physics class heightened her case. The roar of other girls incited her until she
slapped her opponent who allegedly accused her to be pregnant. Their fight stopped
when the mistress of discipline appeared. Nema stood timidly, shedding tears on her
cheeks to pull the wool over her eyes. She fainted and fell on the soil paralyzed. The
antagonism was solved by that sudden incident that led the antagonist to the clinic.
Four hours later she was summoned by the headmistress of school in her office.
Nema’s leaked out to the staff. As usual Kirungurira, as they nicknamed the headmistress
because of her frown once she caught a student, snared her with philosophic questions.
Instead of answering, Nema bowed her head and cried in punches.
“Whether you weep or not, I need to meet your father. You have fooled me for so long. I
am sending you to bring him. You told me that you live together with your uncle, but it’s a
cheap lie.” The headmistress rejoined rubbing her eyes. Nema found that it was
compulsory for her to face the reality and accept her crimes rather than keeping on
fielding with the case.

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 “Forgive me. I have been…” Nema cut the following lines to shun the
headmistress’s chain of questions. She introduced her difficulty of finding a ticket to pay
so as to bring her father to school. Her wish was granted.
“I am going to bring my father. He is alive.”
“And you behave like this in the eyes of your father. What kind of a girl are you?”

Nema took the rough with the smooth and took way home. From Ndago village, it was
the trip of two hours to arrive at Bwimo where you could find the multitude of white, blue,
red and green roofs that saluted the passenger in a taxi. In taxi, she engrossed herself in
grief. She cursed Adama who tainted her zeal of studying and tailed off her moral
qualities of kindness and abstemiousness. She wished her mother could be around to
guide her. She blamed her father who harshly treated her and caused her to pioneer what
he has prohibited her from doing.
The road to Garakimisa teemed with the crowd of persons coming from Gobugonya
market and others coming from the concert held at Restoration Ministries Church. White
and blue cloths were shaken by the fans that pushed one another in the congestion to
enter the taxi. There was an international match that was going to oppose a popular local
team Rayon Sports against Egyptian giants called Zamalek. At first Nema fidgeted as she
led the path to her father’s mansion. She moved in the cramming near Gobugonya
butcher with fear. The street was narrow. Walking you bumped to the sellers of fish,
carrots, cabbages, pepper, spinard, salt, sugar, avocadoes and other fruits. Street
children always wished the place to be full so that they could check pockets or pick
tomatoes or the egg plants once the local defense forces invaded the illegal sellers
suddenly. Except one meter isle reserved for vehicles, there was no other passage. She
diverted the way home and turned to La Fraicheur. She worried much about Adama’s
presence at their ghetto if there had been an important game opposing Rayon Sports
baptized Kimaranzara (hunger breaker) with any other team even when it might be from
the second division.
Her arrival was taken for granted. The friendship connecting Adama and Nema fizzled
out. From the moment she arrived, she was standing. She assisted the three guys who
played cards talking shameful words that took Nema out of herself. This was meant to
harass her psychologically. After an interval of some minutes, he stopped playing and
prepared to entertain her.
“Has the trick worked?”
“Wapi…I even risk to be sacked. My case is beyond bearing. The only hopes I have rely
on you.” She exhaled as she fixed her eyes on Adama who was not concerned about her
issue.
“You failed to convince your leader, so how can I make him agree to forgive
you?”
”Please, you changed me into a villain claiming to alleviate my pain. It’s up to you
to stand for me.”
“I can’t beat that spinster in whatever I can try. Instead of wasting my efforts and
expenses in vain, I have to let you go and tell your father about the trial.” He commanded
seriously.
“Mon Dieu…! Adama you desert me?” She complained being overpowered by
the emotions. She started to sob blowing her nose to hide her sorrow.

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 “By the way, maybe today is a day of history.”
“History…”
“Yes …From this moment on, you aren’t my friend anymore.”
He spoke out.
Nema smothered and cried out. Through her cries came a sad voice cautioning
him to expect the plight ahead.
“Adulterer…Thief…Parasite…Get away from here before I react.” He yelled at
her.
“Adama, you made me astray with your poisoned money and your venomous
language. In good seasons, I found pity and mercy in you. In drought, you are being a
beast. You break my heart this way…Remember that code of Hamourabi. The penitent
house waits for you anytime from now. Good bye!”
“Puuuh …Idiot…Genda…Do you think I am scared?”
Waging a trial against him, she owned many proofs to charge Adama with rape and
immorality. Snaps kissing each other, letters full of vows and lyrics of romance were the
tangible pieces during the judgment. In addition she owned her id card.
Everyone at home enjoyed her coming home. From her two grand brothers up to
The Noble all hugged her. She still wore a tout expression on her face as she embraced
them with eagerness as she used before. Her father was keen to discover what made
Nema to come home at that period of the term dominated by tests and quizzes preparing
the term exams. The Noble noticed her lips and her eyelashes shaven and he rebuked
her.
“What are those inscriptions of colors on your mouth? Paints…! What’s for?
Beauty or cure…” The Noble asked. No answer came from Nema.
“Go and remove those arrogant things of Sodom and Migina sex workers. I hope
you will not miss a fiancée to marry you. Besides, never give up being an examplary.
Study hard and you will enrich me. Be careful, obedient and don’t betray me in the eyes
of my enemies. You are my only daughter and I wish the best in your life.” He advised his
daughter and she sighed.
“It is not easy in this speedy tempting modern world. In this championship, we
young girls meet several difficulties. Indeed we are exposed.” She announced with
sorrow.
Next day in the cockcrow, she was disturbed by trauma in her lonely room. She
hollered,
“Head, forgive me. I was strayed. Adama tempted me with money. Have pity on
me! Mercy! Mercy!” She mentioned Adama many times begging him not to hurt her.
“Don’t leave me alone. You tore my holly cloth and made me swallow the
forbidden fruit. Please let me love you. Don’t desert me. Have mercy on me! Come back
to me. I need you.”
On the third day she thought it unfair to keep on disguising in the eyes of her
father. She packed her notebooks in another leather bag. She also added in it some of
her senior four notebooks of biology and organic chemistry. Having got everything ready,
she sat for breakfast and waited her father to wake up from the well furnished room she
could tread in. Her anxieties intensified as boiling water on the charcoal. She reflected
back on her studies before meeting Lucifer Adama. Before she got contact with him, she
lived on the fat of the land, though jealousy made her envy luxurious items. She

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reluctantly used less money given by her father. Detaching out of the father’s
dependence, she tagged behind Adama, something that plunged her in troubles.
Sitting on the table, she fancied on her future with a baby crying, sucking her,
defecating and urinating on her laps while changing nappies and felt frustrated. Her
school career was interrupted and it was a big disgrace for herself incase she might meet
some of her classmates. The solution was to abort in order to cast away that small burden
or drink her death, she thought to herself.
Though her father seemed fastidious, he understood to some extent the issue.
Nema veered across her line of conduct. She missed somewhere to start introducing her
problem. A superstar as she was nicknamed at school faltered a word out to her father.
“The headmistress needs you at school. Some of my materials had been stolen
and the person who displaced them does not admit her crime.” She lied quacking with
nervousness.
“Sure?”
“Yes.”
“All right…If you are not sincere, I will discover everything. You see that I am
postponing my business trip to Kampala. Let me get ready, but you must have told me the
irony.”
“I am not lying to you daddy. Don’t be amazed when they trump up me to you. The
school authorities hate me. It may happen that I face the music because of that theft they
wanted to involve me in.” She pleaded.
She could have escaped when the Noble was busy fixing their car’s tire. She
might go back to the town and wander in it searching for a job in hotels. She might
probably find someone to hire her due to her beauty that was exceptional.
Nema stood in front of the headmistress waiting for the judgment like Jesus
facing Pilate. When the headmistress introduced her case, she attempted to slop off. She
shivered to run with her speed, her father followed. He grabbed her still in the school
yard. The students who sat near the windows murmured to each other wondering what
happened to Nema. The Noble pinioned her and she shouted loudly begging pardon. His
slap which sounded rumble made her restive. By then the forgiveness to her faults
seemed a pipe dream, no matter what pique of innocence she felt.
Beaten by indignation and humiliation, she sank in the armchair opposite the
headmistress who enumerated all her crimes.
“Your daughter is a prostitute. Her conduct has petrified me as soon as I decided
to summon you before I could send her to you. She disabuses the security of my students
and staff. Her ideas of hatred and discrimination against the miserable students from poor
families or who are orphaned by the genocide threaten the whole school. She owns our
school fees. By the way, had she given you the convocation paper we gave her?”
“She told me that some of her belongings had been stolen and that I had to come
and witness that.” The Noble explained with amazement.
“Just before I go on telling you everything, she is here and she can contradict me
where I lie. The decision is irreversible, I have to…The staff sealed it.”

“Have mercy to her.” The Noble Implored and he quailed at that moment.
Nema was no longer standing. She stood still gazing at the calendar that was
hanged above the headmistress’s seat. On it was a picture of a young boy wooing a

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young schoolgirl? The guy held a sheaf of notes and a Land Cruiser parked near them
and it looked obvious that the boy wanted to allure that lady to have sex with him. Then
under that picture was written “Abstain from sex, keep your sincerity. Rwanda
experienced sour horrors which exterminated innocent citizens. As we recover from that
tragedy, let us fight against genocide ideology and HIV which is killing gradually the active
population.” Nema read silently following all the accusations. Her heart throbbed and her
throat swelled with anguish. She muttered a sentence that was not heard. This made her
father to qualify her rude. She mumbled instead of apologizing openly so as to escape the
corporal punishment in front of the school assembly.
The world was running faster than before beyond her. She resigned to them and
declared,
“As my father has brought up me, I grew up a reserved girl. When I studied at
APACOPE, I met a demon called Adama then I gave him free rein to him, and then
surrendered my body to him.”
“Do not remind me that thug.”
“He was humane not for love but for hi self-satisfaction. He gave me money and
new fashions that I have never tried in life. Since then I have dabbled in studies for his
pleasures. In his eyes, I was a queen. In my eyes he was a millionaire despite the ghetto
he lived in.”
The Noble shook his head. It was contempt to him. Having explained her story,
she felt some how refreshed. She gathered her stamina and uttered a word of apology.
The headmistress had an impression to reconsider her request, but the school
regulations that were straight forward obliged that loose behaviors were considered
seriously. The headmistress refused to oppose the rules.
“I was not in this position to chase you out of this lovely school, but the
regulations oblige me to react accordingly. Never say Soeur Malta chased me. I like
students but I hate their misconduct.”
The decision made the Noble thunder stricken. The anger overwhelmed him and
leapt over Nema to slap her. The headmistress stopped him encroaching upon Nema.
Nkubarwa was wholly silent as a church. No echoes of every now and then from
the chattering of desks and the whispering of students. The students were awakened
from their concentration by a sound of a ring. The recreation time was over. Every student
wondered whether it was time for lunch, but it was still eleven AM. Those who heard the
humming of the Noble’s car inferred to the Minister’s visit. They started to examine
whether their uniforms were complete and prepared themselves to expose their problems
linked to the preparation of the national exams.
In school yard, the head of school opened her harangue. Every student was
waiting to hear a word from the Noble they had mistaken of important authority.
“Good morning everyone…!”
By the time she was beginning to give them a word of welcome and report of
school activities, a few students having seen Nema, they started to whisper. She gestured
them to keep their mouths closed and resumed her speech.
“Normally it is not in my customs and habits to stand in front of you without telling
you about serious measures taken for some of your schoolmates.”
Students failed to put up with shouting at Nema who stood trembling with fear
and humiliation, rubbing her reddened eyes. A group of students behind roared at Nema.

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Their hubbubs did not die out until the head’s authority intervened to calm down the
situation.
“Hush! You at the back come and tell the whole assembly my speech. Those
with coats and pull over, it’s sunny collect them and take them to my store.”
That nun was very serious. Once angry, her face blackened and she could expel
you for even a mere fault. The great challenge she loathed was students’ upsetting during
the speech. Therefore she ordered a group of boys who were shouting to kneel on the
mound near senior 4 Math physics their legs dangling on the wall of that class, arms on
the soil. Girls among them were ordered to clean the whole classes of Nkubarwa
premises. These heavy punishments frightened every student who had the intention to
show teeth and refrained from whispering again.
“These corrupt guys and girls disrupted me. Let me resume my speech. Today is
the Day of Judgment. Do you see this school mate of yours?”
The students who kept quiet got an occasion to shout a yes chorus answer.
“She is not a student of this school anymore from now onwards. I invite her to
apologize before she packs her materials.”
An uproar rose among the students with much vigor clapping their hands and
others were sneering at Nema. Nema emerged to the mound to say the final word for her
colleagues to whom she despised. The Noble who stood for so long jumped over her and
started to flog her on the buttocks. In her tears, the whole assembly fell aback. It was
once they had seen a female student being caned that way.
Nevertheless she always glowered at her relatives. Her hatred of life grew more
intense. She was glum. She considered herself a passenger on the earth and an outcast.
Her pregnancy was an atrocity she could not erase out of her brain. Something should be
done to gain relief as she imagined.
Her suicide using the packet of poison for mice happened. She gloated over. Her
ego goaded her to abandon that impure act. The id presented her the problems of being a
parent at the early age and pushed her to gulp that sour powder. She closed her eyes for
a prayer. She ended with amen and emptied the content in her mouth. No sooner than
she swallowed a sip of saliva that her stomach and the whole body experienced pangs of
grinding pain. The sufferings grew more accurate and she grimaced and whimpered
loudly. She became thirsty as if she consumed the meat of a raven.
Her father rushed to the room very quickly and found her daughter lying flat on
her belly rolling on the bed repeatedly. The Noble ran to the can of water and sprouted
water on her. The cold of that gushing water somehow restored life to her. The Noble
noticed a packet of rat killer. He quickly opened Nema’s mouth to pour some water for
rescue. Was there any hope for her recovery?

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 BROKEN HEARTS
CHAPTER SIXTEEN

They were disturbed by a loud knock at the door that nearly pushed the
loose door that hinged on worn walls. They had shielded themselves from the
arrest and the infuriating rage of their landlord for so long. By then they thought
their deadline of concealing themselves was over. There came the landlord very
furious holding a bunch of keys.
“You thieves! I need my pay or leave out my house. I have borne with
you for so long. Now time is over.”
The trio ducked their faces avoiding his eye contact. Asumani plucked up
his courage then answered back to him.
“Sir, we are aware of our delay but as you know, these two months have
been black for us. Our foreman has not yet paid us. “He explained with
embarrassment.
“Ninyi majambazi! Msiniguse. This house is not yours. You had better
build yours instead of nursing the problem to me. Bye the way, I am not your
father. So, I am need money whether from heaven or elsewhere from the hell.
Full stop…” The landlord commanded as he approached the wall to lean on it,
covering his nostrils to avoid the stench from the nearby gutters from 1930
penitent house.
Asumani who spoke on behalf of the group felt touched by the landlord’s
sadism over the issue of parents. Feeling an orphan of such atrocities inflicted on
his relatives and which caused him to wander, without a brother to care for him or
any person to guide him. Asumani blowed his nose and answered the landlord
boldly.
“No money. That’s all. We don’t even have a penny to buy what to cook.
May be, tomorrow in the evening, the money is available.”
“Hey! Pay me or I call the police. In prison, you will even add fines.” The
landlord threatened them.
“Do whatever you wish for us. But the business of money is tomorrow.
And suppose it was you, how could you obtain money being a helpless child as
we are? Please rationalize over our issue and put yourself in our boots.”
“Well it’s up to you I need my pay not later than tomorrow at seven.” The
short and snub-nosed man warned the trio leaving.
They visited their suitcases to select some decent new clothes they could
sell. Adama was mostly shocked by the fact that one of his favorite black suit was

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chosen for sale. He gave vent to his anger by watering a vendetta to Asumani.
They exchanged angry words that could bear a duel. The victimized Asumani
told him,
“Though we are all victims of the same incidents, remember you have a
father. Oppress me, hurt me as you wish. You are not heart broken. Frankly
speaking I am alone and lonely on this earth. You are still my friends and
remember no Man is an island. I have venerated you since you left that
countryside. I have not pressed you to go back and help your father or do any
thing else no to hurt your father which might have angered you most. I am very
sad. The rewards of my pity and humane heart are abuses and quarrels.”
“Remember we are brothers despite our slight different backgrounds. We
are working for the common interests of our survival. We fled the village life and
here in town, we feel somehow at ease. No empty destroyed house and naked
mountains shaven of banana leaves trees around us. We are only haunted by
our nature of violence for getting health. Yes the end justifies the means. No
murderers of our families grudge us like in the village. Didn’t you here about the
person who has been recently cut off simply because she claimed about the
indemnities over her dead sibling and parents?”
“Those idiots are still hunting the innocent people.” Adama cooled down
and became cooperative.
“You too shouldn’t quarrel like that. If we divide between ourselves, our
enemies profit and strengthen raids.” Kaganga reconciled them.
Let’s not waste our time on that. Instead, we can plan how to leave this
sprawling ghetto with rotten water from that murderers’ nest.”
“And what do you think we can do without cash?” Adama asked Kaganga
very quickly showing much interest. His motivation awakened his proposition,
“That plan … when Nema interrupted us… That white I had been telling
you about.”
“It’s very risky. It may even cost us the life.” Asumani expressed his
worries.
“Always pessimistic…” Adama bemoaned expressing the gall towards
Asumani.
“I am right. “ Asumani argued with confidence.
“It is easy. We only need tattered clothes and our pistol. We will turn into
vagrants looking for a shelter. Anytime they usher us, the mission will be
accomplished.”
“We are going to get rich.” Kaganga jumped with small steps expressing
his happiness.
“We will leave this hut of that ruthless man. That guy can finish us.”
”My friends, it’s good that we are expecting to move to another place.
Take into consideration that a bird in hand is worth two in bush! Don’t sing
victory. Anyway I promise to keep an eye and save you incase the police
appears.”
“We are grateful.”
Kaganga stretched his arms. He did some physical exercises to strain his
aching back and limbs. He paused a little bit and talked to his two friends,

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 “Dear chaps, I am not well at all. My back aches and my eyes are itching
awfully. Something bad is going to happen or it is this empty belly maybe.” He
complained pressing his belly so as to put concentration.
They did not eat anything but the roasted peanuts they gnashed when
coming to sell their coats in black market. Imbibed in hemp, they fumbled their
pistol. It was rusty and needed cleaning and repair. Kaganga manhandled it to
clean every item. He loaded that small item with twenty bullets. He tried it and it
was not blunt.
Kaganga and Adama zapped to the entrance then knocked to the door of
that rectangular house with blue iron sheets. The reverend was around in lounge
reading the bible. In front of him was a heap of books. Behind him stood a huge
cupboard that contained cups, mugs, plates, anniversary cards, pictures of other
reverends and choirs. To their sight in rags, he pitied for them.
“What can I do for you?” The reverend queried in a quavering voice.
“We need your assistance. We are brothers and both parentless. Our
parents were slain and since then we remained helpless. Our piece of land was
usurped by one of our hunters and we failed to recover it. The man is very
cunning and an important state agent despite his guilt. Since yesterday, we have
been traveling running from his threats on us and we haven’t even had a slice of
bread apart from the dirty water. Have pity and redeem us.” Kaganga moaned as
skilled actor, his arms folded to the area where the gun hung.
“Children of God…I am sorry for you! Let me order the cooks to bring food
for you and later I am going to take you to one of the orphanage to cater for you.
The long journey and problems made you dreary.”
In a little while the food was transported to them. It was delicious as they
sensed it with their noses and eyes. It was a plate full of colorful polony, chips
cooked in western style, meat, rice and other varieties of western desserts and
humbugs. The reverend’s prayer delayed them to eat that rich food in vitamins
they have never tasted in life up to then.
These yahoos attacked the food greedily without reflecting on Asumani
who stayed outdoors yawning in the cold. They picked the content with two arms
competing to fill their tummies for satisfaction. They licked their lips and picked
up the chips that fell on the soil. They fixed eyes on the parcel that was beside
the reverend.
Just as they cleared off the food, the servant came in to take away the
plates. The pathetic reverend stood up to keep his diplomatic load in private
room and then Adama assaulted on him and he seized him tightly in belly. They
wrestled fighting over the suitcase. The skilled reverend struggled to knock out
Adama. Kaganga found the situation dangerous and took out the pistol. He
zeroed in at the reverend. The Whiteman trembled and lost grip and surrendered
to them.
“Mercy…! Mercy! Take whatever you need and leave me unharmed.
Jesus, have mercy on me.” He faltered beating his arms in the air.
“Lie down flat. Dare open your mouth shouting for help, we will finish you.
Your clan’s mates are the ones who sponsored machetes and guns to those

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killers who denied our relative the right to life.” Kaganga roared at the reverend.
He was still holding the pistol on his ear to fire.
The reverend was left with groggy. His servant in the kitchen didn’t know
what happened. Coming in salon with a flask of coffee, he found the poor man
squatting on the cement breathless and rolled him upside down yelling at him.
“Pastor, wake up. Wake up and tell me what happens.”
“Orphans…Gun …parcel…Offerings…they took away every thing.” He
stammered and he jumped with horror every moment.
“Bring that instrument. Dial 112.They will be caught.”
The three boys wallowed in gutters near Mboraminya mosque to share the
content of that stuff. Adama held it and barked at them.
“I am the chief. I also jumped over that reverend. The great share is mine.”
“What about me who stayed out watching your security?”
“The money is ours. We sweat for it but you chose to stay out counting
stars and enjoying the fresh air.”
Asumani did not plead. He flounced out of the group. He realized that the
two discriminated him. He felt some jitters that constrained him to report himself
to the police and tip off that he was a criminal. No matter could happen, the
feeling of frustration and guilt finally jammed out of the violence and avidity of
money, and then he reported to Mboraminya police station at that night. The
police station stood in face of the stadium and it was easier for the cops led by
Asumani to check the area and arrest selfish Adama and Kaganga.
They camouflaged under grass and it was not easy to trace them. Their
noises counting piles of money to discover the real sum of their loot helped the
police to identify them. Again, to the sight of illuminating flashes of light, they
stooped out of that irrigation. They galloped in the ruins of bottles. Kaganga’s
soles were impaled by a piece of the bottle. He never stopped to calm down the
pain. He ran quicker than ever before.
In that long hunt, Asumani was still with the policemen showing them the
unknown paths he and his colleagues used to escape through. He identified a
few homes of robbers he knew at Ficyaha, and he promised to lead the police to
Mamuhi’s famous hot bed for robbers.
The more the fugitives advanced farther, the more Kaganga felt pain in his
right bare foot. He lagged behind Adama and he ended up by forcing to sit.
Adama drew him away from the place. They ran and ran until they reached
behind their slum. They panted and Kaganga screamed. The pain ground his
whole body from the injury.
“That is my last invasion and the last burglary I am attending. Saved, I am
going to join the village and care for my late parents’ piece of land.” Kaganga
sighed as he finished expressing his bitterness and he bent to blow the pain with
a piece of old paper.
Though transformed into atheists and agnostics at one time, they knelt
and Adama, who once upon in six years back was a convicted Christian invoked
the holly spirit with a pharisaic prayer.
“Dear almighty Lord, the life turns futile for us. We have stolen a huge
amount of money and now the police are hunting us. Do not abandon your

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wretched children as you did during that carnage when our beloved mothers,
siblings, neighbors, infants who had never committed any wrong, cows, goats
and poultry were slaughtered because you closed the eyes. We request you to
cover the eyes of that greed that enjoy in harassing the miserable persons as we
are. Bless us with this richness. You know we are robbers who burglarize the rich
who exploit the poor, but come and protect us against Satan’s disciples who
need to wean us modernization in the town life. It’s through your loving type’s
blood on the cross that we ask all these.”
Kaganga who was sitting shrinking blood out of where he removed a piece
of the bottle chorused Amen in a husky voice.
The previous night, the police had combed everywhere in the Babylon
quarters. Many robbers were caught. Asumani played a great role in their arrest.
Adama and Kaganga were the only targeted robbers to be caught dead or alive.
From the shanties of Mamuhi, Ficyaha and Goryobi were under the supervision
of the boots. Nearly every house, medium or small was guarded.
Kaganga heard the stomping of persons and opened the small window to
inspect. Two men in black uniforms from the boots up to the cap with guns
escorted by the emaciated Asumani approached their miserable house.
“Adama, we are captured. The police… Wake up and we run away.”
Kaganga whispered to Adama who was snorting.
“What?” He yelled as he discarded the sheets away.
“Our last chance on the earth... They are coming here with Asumani.”
“Let me sleep, you baboon.”
“My God! Wake up and we run away. Or you want them to exult over us.”
He urged beating hands on him.
Adama rose. He put on his two pieces of trousers quickly. He fished two
sheaves of notes out of the pillow and set to jump through the back window of
their room. Narrow and dusty as it looked, Adama squeezed his head through it
and thudded out in a position of a ninja laying his arms tightly on the soil and left
the window slammed. Kaganga drew back to put on his trousers. He searched
the pistol while Adama raced out like the gazelle, crossing La Fraicheur house by
house pushing everything in those mazes. Kaganga who had a limp didn’t get
much further. Failing to speed up, he stood and cocked his pistol. He fired at one
of the cops ready to grab him, but the bullet hurled on the cock that scratched the
area to peck its breakfast. He automatically let the instrument burst and vomit the
nine bullets that were left in the magazine. As he cocked again, nothing came
except the cracking of metals. It was by then he crawled in vain, zigzagging so as
to avoid the police arrest.
“What are you waiting for? Jambazi yule ni mkongwe. Mpige lisasi. Rapid
fire…!” The patrol commander shouted.
Kaganga was found in the gutters. He beat his arms in the air awkwardly
letting blood. His brain was dug out of its captivity. The policemen watched him
with disappointment. They wished to arrest him alive and extort some hidden
secrets. He was breathless and dumb. His lodge was going to be CHK grave
yard where the unidentified souls rested.

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 In the afternoon of the same day, Adama who survived the raids hiding
him in Gobugonya valley, a place where street children burrowed after snatching
some materials, came out and led to Mamuhi hospital to have his arm bandaged.
Patients on the queue became sympathetic and suspicious of that wound that
covered the area to the elbow. This facilitated him to contravene the order of
waiting on the line. He entered in the consultation room with rage and
constrained the nurses to bandage him before they fill up his file. His name
Adama Jacques made the nurse, who was filling his document suspicious as she
asked him,
“Are you that type widespread in newspapers for his criminal acts and defilement
of the Noble’s daughter?” It seemed that she was going to pour a list of quick fire
questions at him following the she darted suspicious looks at him.
“No. That one is my namesake.” He answered with his face reddened.
The nurse with her pair of glasses and a set of teeth as white as fresh milk
might possess the power to read his mind. As a result, she called the police to
intervene secretly. The nurse spoke into poor English from which Adama picked
the words such as thief, help, here.
His patient form was filled. He was sent to the doctor for bandaging his
wound. While the doctor cleaned the wound with alcohol that scratched and
pained the victim, the police van parked in front of Mamuhi hospital. Adama got
scared. He was in quick sand. He turned to the doctor holding his pants, and
then begged the doctor to do him a favor.
“Doctor, I want to go on short call. Can you release me please?”
“You can, but let me seek someone to accompany you so that you cannot
leave without giving some information we need from you.”
Except the dust left behind him, no one among the police and Mamuhi
hospital officials managed to discover where he passed. They stayed discussing
lively on his tricks full of cunning.
“Maybe he is an athlete or he shared the food with a dog.” One of the
police agents carried in the van to investigate spoke out.
Adama forged thousand means to evict safely out of the town. He climbed
Sozigi to continue in the suburbs where he thought there could be the tarmac
road leading to Kinyinya towards Bugaka, but he remembered that the area had
a military camp. The way to Kararu, his birthplace was banned. He returned in
the valley of Gobugonya and followed the path in that swampy place. By the end
of the valley, he ran like the plane taking off. In a moment he was on the peak of
Nganyoka. It harbored few houses. It was covered by bushes and creepers. It
looked deserted. It appeared to have once sheltered some persons because
there were destroyed houses. Down on the side facing Mbacyu stood a dense
forest with thistles and grass interlaced to one another bordering a deep river that
passed secretly there. Nganyoka was a small center with shattered habitations.
There, one might find one or two boutiques that sold nothing to eat except soap,
salt, kerosene, pens and kasuku notebooks. Behind those boutiques was a big
tomb surrounded by a mauve and white cloth with words”you died a sad death,
maimed, tortured, buried alive, cut off heads and hunted by your fellows, you
went by the time we needed you. We who survived still remember you. May your

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souls rest in peace.” The phrase never again attracted Adama’s interests. As he
read it, he talked to himself,
“Never again… Let me buy a torch to help me walk in this strange area.
There are also some clothes out there. I am going to take them away, but never
again! If God wishes, I will meet my father. But stealing…! Never again…
Genocide? Never again? Human nature, never again…Ethnicity…Why? Never
again…I will ask my daddy.” He shook his head and if it were not for the
abandoned, one might think he was lunatic.
He led one path that passed through that forest. He was no longer in
bloody shirt. He put on a green t-shirt and black jeans he displaced from where
he bought a torch. In the mid forest, he was suspended the movement by huge
creepers. Up in the trees when he torched, he found monkeys with long tails
jumping from tree to tree shunning the light. He edged his way through those
tough creepers twisted round the trees to bar his passage. Walking hard,
something hissed like a rallying car. He lit the place. A very long snake crossed
on the surface of the grass. It was probably that python he once was told in
encounters. That monster raced beside him and he was no longer breathing or
opening the eyes. He was waiting that strange reptile to swallow him alive as he
read it in the narratives he studied in primary school.
It was about the midnight. No human voices could be heard except the
sounds of the nocturnal insects that crooned. He stormed in one of the homes in
the area. When the cows heard him they started to beat their horns on the sheds.
One of them mooed to communicate the danger. The owner of the house woke
up with his spear to check what upset his domestic animals. Adama noticed his
shadow, seeing that the moon grinned out its light, and then he broke the silence,
“Would like harbor me? I was going on a trip far away and mistook the
moonlight to the dawn.”
The man kept quiet for a little while. He dug his spear and let it stand
straight and examined Adama despite the mirage from his eyes due to slumber.
He found him a spy or an infiltrator from DRC among the Interahamwe militia. He
apologized to him,
“Please it’s today only I missed. I will never skip the night patrol again.
Allow me to bribe you so that you cannot report me.”
The words patrol and report frightened Adama and he quickly set to leave
before the situation worsened. The python he saw made him scared and insisted
on his request.
“Please I beg you, accommodate me only this one night.”
“Sorry! You catch me on the hop. I have one room for my children and
goats. The only living room I built harbors me and our pots. No room for guests.
Go and ask there in the vicinity. But I am not sure you will find someone to help
you this night. The security is not enough and we….” The man explained to
Adama who supposed that there was no trust to the night guests.
The peasants’ awareness of danger about house breakers and the
infiltrators mad him continue his trip with much carefulness. At about five o’clock
in the morning of the next day, Adama was out woods. He was seriously
ravenous and wished something eatable whatever it might be. To the extremity of

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the forest was maize plantation. He fell on the maize cobs and in short time he
ended ten row cobs. He might have excavated some potatoes, but he feared the
roar of hunters in a distance.
His shoes in leather seemed to lose their originality. Their heels were worn
out because of the dew during his vagrancy. He was so thirsty that he bent on
the grass to lick the dew. The image of the midnight snake prevented him from
drinking that dew. In his worries, he saw a match box that attracted his curiosity.
It contained few matches and cigar. What was baffling was a folded thousand
Rwandan currency note. Heaven multiplied his chances of survival.

In his trek in discovering ways to Kararu, he climbed on the Rocky

Mountains whose raids resembled of the volcano. The mountain stood like
crocodile’s jaws. Once he looked down, he felt dizzy and clutched on the rocks
avoiding to fall down the valley. He managed to cross those mountains and
arrived in plateaus covered by white stones that glittered of the extra-ordinary
shining beauty. One of the hills lay a rock on which children rubbed their buttocks
driving on the white material that transported them for fun. Looking them afar,
Adama realized that these children were impressed by those movements of to
and fro with their toy. Round the rock ran the river rumbling like a raged lion
though it was upwards to the end of the rain. Its water woke his thirst and he felt
burning inside. To cool himself he bent and drank that dirty water.
He nearly gulped the leech. He smashed it with his jaws and spat blood.
At least he felt at ease. He stretched his arms and bent again to wash his
transformed body. He gazed at one Tree Bridge studying the tactics to cross it.
He triumphed over the fear that gripped him and staggered on it to get to the
other side of the river.
What a lovely land! It seemed like Kararu. It was covered by a lot of
banana plantations and some of them were ripened on their trees. Birds sucked
their juice. Monkeys too picked that yellow which made Adama drool as he
looked at them. To prove the experiment told about monkeys, he picked a bundle
of soil and threw at them aggressively. They became offended and agitated each
of them throwing non-stopping lumps of bananas.
The first group of persons he met spoke a dialect that sounded his mother
tongue. Their accent resembled the quarrel. They dressed themselves in black
sombreros and their shoulders were rounded by cloths. Some of them had bare
chests and their bottom parts were covered by wrappers. In front of them walked
the cattle. Those were Nkole people inhabiting Mbufirabu district of Buganda
kingdom. He began to experience doubts and confusions of living in foreign land.
As he walked aimlessly without knowing who to interact with due to
language barrier, another team of peasants passed. They appeared tired and
they were talking about their daily hardships in their routines in Lukiga dialect. He
tiptoed behind them to sneak the situation in the area. At least he met persons of
his own who could accommodate him.

BROKEN HEARTS
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

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 She had been closing herself in the compound for about one week. On
Saturday of that week, warm and marvelous, she walked in the street nearby
their house. She moved in short steps. Many eyes she met haunted her. She felt
something wrong in her. She listened carefully to their conversations. A group of
young persons gossiped something that attracted her curiosity. Adama was shot
dead. A sad piece of news for Nema… During her days of seclusion after
recovering from the suicidal attempt, she hinged her hopes on Adama in regard
to the rearing of the coming baby.
At home, she avoided the parlor. She immersed in thoughts in her room
as she read every letter from Adama. Emotions overwhelmed her and she held
Adama’s photo tightly on her chest. She stared at it and kissed it several times,
tears rolling round her cheeks. She could not hide her sentiments recalling the
god moments she shared with the old super star of JAGUAR FC and the
infamous robber Adama. His up and down movements, sweet tender words that
filled her with morale created a cracked mind in her.
The Noble had already appealed to court. He always went to the parquet
to follow up the case. Nema wondered why she showed Adama’s identity to her
father, a valid proof for his arrest. She cried without letting out a voice. She
forged millions ways of going to the Kigali parquet to plead for Adama next day.
Her hopes declined when she switched on the radio for the evening news
broadcasting. Before the reporter wound up the details of the already mentioned
headlines, he read the announcement from the Ministry of Internal Security.
The Ministry of Internal Security calls upon all Rwandans to keep on
collaborating with the police and army so that we can intercept infiltrators and a
group of murderers who are still denying life the survivors of the genocide
everywhere in Rwanda in order to cover their responsibility. Anyone who will be
caught being involved in such dehumanization, negationism and revisionism will
be sentenced to the life imprisonment. Anyone with genocide ideology will be
sentenced to twenty years and will have no right to vote. In their program of
eradicating theft, rape and counterfeiting, embezzlement and corruption, the
Ministry calls upon Rwandans to be vigilant and guard their homes and property.
Incase of emergency and above all heist, don’t hesitate to call 112 for help. It is
in this respect that the police are pursuing one of the biggest bandits of Kigali
called Adama. Whoever who may know his whereabouts and report him or
identify him to the police will get an enjoyable prize.
Her love to him grew more deeply. Before, she loved him mechanically in
order to milk money from him. His departure implanted adoration in her broken
hearted. It was an equation hard to solve. She was infatuated by him. She
wished she could meet him and tell him good bye.
The world was being narrow. No courage to seek knowledge and wisdom
amidst the earth’s perils. She wished she couldn’t have missed her mother.
Around she might intercede on her side. She cried out, “Mummy, come and help
me. I need you mummy, I am so lonely.”
She remained enclosed in those shadows of anxieties. Throwing her
souvenir of broken love seemed impossible. Many prostitutes and some house

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girls were using to strangling those innocent babies they got unwillingly. They
bundled them in towels to lay them in the ditches or sent them to their
irresponsible fathers during the night. Nema assigned herself to avoid that lack of
humanity and empathy. She had to bring up the child not living together with her
family.
The whole night had been for preparation to set off. As she packed her
clothes in a bag, she paused and reread all the letters Adama endowed her. To
finish sores of emotions resulting from their contents, she littered them and burnt
his photo with candle light to ashes. She even burnt his photo not to be
entrapped by rebelling forces from love.
Good melodies from birds praising God filled Ficyaha to bless the twilight
and the whole day. To Nema, their music sounded the dirges. She was sunk in
thoughts of where to go. The Noble stopped her while she was about to open the
door.
“Where are you going without my permission?”
“I am sorry for I haven’t told you that I wanted to visit my aunt for a serious
issue concerning my life.” She explained to the Noble who held the toilette soap
in his right hand and gestured Nema to sit. She obeyed; her heart beating. She
started to lose courage thinking that her trick could be detected.
“Wait for the daybreak. There are anopheles mosquitoes out and they can
transmit malaria to you.” The Noble proposed politely.
“Don’t worry Daddy! Permit me to leave early. You know well taxis from
Goma are randomly seen in the parking when one is late.” She insisted and
avoided her head to meet her father’s eyes.
“That’s a good idea. She will help you. She is an expert midwife. We have
been nailed to our business without visiting our relatives. I hope if she finds you,
she will have seen me, so greet her on my behalf.”
“Yes…But I need some money for a ticket.”
“Money is not a problem. Let me check in that drawer.” He induced Nema
as he counted red notes spitting on his thumb to separate notes that glued to one
another and he added “Do come back as soon as the climate changes. Goma is
hot in this period of the year.”
Kabuga was the area going eastwards of Rwanda. Its landscape was
lovely. Its valley sheltered plots of maize cobs, beans planted on the lines and
moringa trees that made the place look very attractive for shelter. Far beyond the
horizon, there were coffee plantations that embellished Muyumbu plateau, one of
the cells of Kabuga. It had a particularity. It was the road of the planes that
landed on Kanombe International Airport. Whenever those big birds soared
above that area illuminating various colors on their sides and wings, children got
out houses. They raised their eyes in the sky with admiration and waved at that
strange means of transport. The center of Kabuga was a cheap market of fruits,
vegetables, domestic animals and poultry. That center was a good station for
Lorries of petrol and other materials coming from Mombasa. The drivers enriched
the sellers Kabuga.
Nema who was beginning to familiarize with her vicinity dealt in
business. She was always on the qui vive for a business opportunity and a

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decent paying though it was easy for to obtain her quarry as quick as she
wished. Her sympathy and pretty face brought her many customers. Land
cruisers, Mercedes Benz, Isuzu, and Fuso parked in front of her wide umbrella
and asked the price of her fruits. They could not leave without buying something
from her basket. Nema and other fruits dealers were hindered by local defense
forces’ wickedness. In their mauve uniforms, they acted like devils, tagging along
women with baskets full of cabbages, oranges… At first they demanded these
women to present invoices and tax deeds. If any hawker missed these pieces
and something to bribe one of those mauve guys, her basket could be
subjugated. This injustice created mess. Whenever these women took glance of
them, they scattered themselves in the road and everywhere in the crowd. They
were under the risk of accident. They trampled on one another saving their
baskets of life.
One afternoon, Nema sat desperately on the ditch under her umbrella
selling oranges, pineapples, lemons and avocadoes. She was waiting for
customers. A police van parked beside her. It was driven by a policeman whose
shoulders were covered with three ropes round his underarm and waist. Nema
stood to run away. The feet failed her and she stayed numb. The driver of that
police van got out grinning. His grin shined hopes and kindness. He resembled
someone she knew some four months back.
“Two oranges and one pineapple here and don’t go away, I want to talk to
you.”
“Is it me you are addressing to, please?” She shivered with the oranges
and the pineapple to give to the policeman.
“Yes it’s you Nema.”
“Surprise…” She talked to herself as she handed him the fruits he
ordered.
“Nema, time is elastic as Einstein proved. Time moves at one rate for one
person and at a different for another. Time is relative depending on where you
are moving. All our pleasures are vanity and our inflictions are infinite. Nema I
wish I could be that necklace to dwell on you.” He said handing her an orange for
share and he went on his flatteries as Nema lingered her big white eyes on him.
“Nema you are so pretty that one may engage to you despite the
history…”
“Sir I am completely lost. Who are you?”
“I am Asumani, the one who lived with Adama.’ He introduced himself and
continued his talk, “I want to discard the hatred between us. I want you to
promote unity and reconciliation sowing seeds of honesty, love and peace in
order to heal our torn country. You are blessed. Never bask on this scorching
sun. Pack up your fruits in this car. Don’t be scared by my high dignity or the biter
events between me and you. Nema I love you and I can’t let you suffer this way. I
am ready to rescue you.”

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 BROKEN HEARTS
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Mbufirabu background meant much in the history of Rwanda. First, shiku

chores took their essence there from the British colons and spread throughout
Rwanda by Belgian colons. Second, young boys from Rwanda who wanted to
heap money for the dowry in the 1910 up the 1940s traveled on foot to
Mbufirabu. Those with zeal and determination came back with huge money after
one year. Some of them died there due to hard working. Others immigrated to
Rwanda and inhabited Mbufirabu, an area with fertile soil. Their labor enriched
the area. Third, criminals who murdered Tutsis in 1994 quit Gacaca courts
charges taking to Mbufirabu. Finally, the army that liberated Rwanda from
dictatorship based on ethnicity, above all Hutu extremist supremacy launched
their inaugurating invasion from Mbufirabu. Indeed Mbufirabu and Rwanda
overlap each other despite the borders traced during the split of Africa by the
European colons.
Adama was in that land for three weeks. He had to remove the town cloth
and begin to toil like the rabble in order to gain money and lives. He always
dreamt of mice nibbling his toes. Though the dreams, it was paradoxically the
reality. The mice blew his toe as if tickling him and started to have bites. His body
was covered by ulcers from bugs bite. Such terrible insects came from the dry
banana leaves full of dust from the unclean scaled feet of the squatters they
shared the room.
Adama gradually coped with the circumstances. He became conditioned
by the environment and he forgot his sour plagues. He stayed in bed. When it
came to the hour of super, he ate too much food, something that made his co-
workers angry who earned the living by wandering some miles for it. Another
thing that angered them was his arrogance and his lingering at work. When the
soil fell on his clothes, he wiped it out of his feet and calves so as to keep his
sanity. Then the owner of the land rebuked these peasants for his idleness. He
dabbled in whatever chore. He managed to end his arrears at random.
Of evil life comes evil end. Fugitives of the 1994 genocide who disguised
among the group of those peasants discriminated Adama openly. Whenever he
stood near them, they stared at his feet, height, fingers and ankles weighing
everything. Disappointed, they whispered into one another’s ears and shook their
heads, something that hid some hatred. Alone in their conversations, they turned
a topic of conversation. They started to suspect him an emissary from Rwanda
central government who came to sneak them. Thus, in every meeting they did
under cover, they planned to have him killed no matter what could happen.

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Aspersions against him were forged. In the assembly of peasants and their
master, one peasant with shaggy hair, short and whose feet were covered by
scales stood up and clapped his hands for venerating their master, and then
accused Adama,
“This spy from Rwanda stole my shillings.”
The whole crowd of squatters started to gabble among themselves
expressing their pros and cons about the accusation. Those for Adama kept quiet
and waited his pleading. His opponents shouted “Kill him. Crucify this betrayer.
He came to oppress us in Kabaka’s territory. Stone him. This is no longer the
period of monarchy whose throne was in hands of a bunch of selfish Watusi.”
Adama stepped to the mound with confidence. He cleared his throat and
lingered the eyes in the assembly and spoke critically to them.
“Brutalize me as you wish. God protects me against your barbaric actions.
As for your money, I have never set my eyes on it. Thank you!”
A check was conducted. The proof revealed itself. His small sack
swallowed two hundred shillings. He succumbed to them so as to avoid their
swoop on him.
His life was a rumble in the unknown area. Its colossal part was covered
by banana plantation, cow cuds and reed plantation. Far beyond on the peaks of
the hills, there were persons who bent their backs weeding the crops. The beauty
of the landscape equaled the injustice applied on him. At the end of the day,
during dusk, he stopped under a big fig tree. He watched passionately in the
threshold as if he wished it to become a house. He was exhausted and
depressed.
Crestfallen, he dosed down in banana plantation that belonged to the chief
of Mbufirabu. It was thick and large. Once in it you couldn’t know what is
happening in the land. Thieves used to pick banana bunches from there. The
chief’s serfs were guarding the plantation for about three months without catching
any of them. They didn’t even find anyone erring around it to make him the
scapegoat of all others. They envied to catch one and beat him with their newly
made clubs and spears for an unforgettable lesson.
Adama immersed in his anxieties and prayers, heard sounds of whispers
crushing throughout the dried banana leaves. He rose to get out of the area
thinking that it was a python or another fierce animal. He crossed the stream and
suddenly voices hemming attracted his attention. It was completely dark. One of
the bailiffs clutched his arm tautly. He shoved that strange grip and darted to his
speed. When he made 500 meters, he felt an attack of cramp seizing his
muscles. He fell down wriggling his arms. The same serf would have mutilated
him except that he wanted to extort information from him. He stood above him his
one leg on Adama’s belly. He too watched the dim light of his artificial improvised
torch that he carried in a tin.
It was not easy for him to apologize. He shifted from his mother tongue to
their dialect and code switched to be heard. The band of bailiffs watched him
furiously brandishing their traditional weapon and the senior among them
gestured to them in a sign of the cross. They all obeyed and gestured in turn to
Adama to stand up.

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 The Lord cherished him. Instead of harassing him as a captive, he
conferred him the power to entertain the cattle. Others serfs sulked. They didn’t
understand how a newly come captive could earn much love from their Lord.
They tried as much they could to bootlick him to the Lord and he too turned a
deaf ear to their false complaints. The Lord, an old man whose head grew grey
hair hailed Adama’s devotion to care for the cattle that were branded with colorful
tattoos.
Adama met another challenge. The Lord’s daughter loved him. When he
was on duty, the girl felt bad-tempered. When present, the girl was not the same.
She talked freely to him. Her aggressing looks and teasing awakened Adama’s
virility.
She could put her in difficulties. She offered him Umutsama as a way of
enticing him to react. He gulped the gourd and got the Dutch courage. The serfs
who always spotted a speck on Adama divulged every detail of their romantic
sojourn. The Lord ticked him off to please his serfs present.
“You are misbehaving by defiling my daughter.”
“Damn it! I can never offend my Lord that way.” He humbly pleaded on his
knees.
“Anyway isn’t a crime that can decapitate you but…Tell me truly how you
tried that.”
“I….I…in ….my may…hut, then she …she. Play, with me.”
“And then…?”
“We went on. She got excited as she deluged tickling me. Your servants
found us playing that way and intrigued me to you. But I swear by your name that
I didn’t harm her purity. She too can bear me witness. These cows too if they
could talk, they can denounce these lies.”
The last sentences made the lord fall on the ground with laughter. He
guffawed and guffawed and when he recovered a little bit he ordered some water
to drink. He nibbled on that healing medicine and announced,
“Well! I don’t want to forage you. You are in the bosom of a mighty chief.
My daughter can be yours since there is no abomination having played with her.
One thing will only cause me to hate you completely. Anytime I find my cows or
bulls with bruises or wounds, you will be in troubles.”
Adama’s supremacy over other servants declined. He invested his time in
cattle keeping and welfare. In the evenings he sang praises for them and these
domestic animals became conditioned by his flute. They ate with appetite once
he was playing it. He flickered on the cows driving away the flies.
Month after month the cows increased his tasks. He could not guard them
alone anymore in the meadows surrounded by bushes of acacia, maze
plantations and some other crops. The Lord appointed the same serf who
intrigued him. He received the news with eagerness and pleasure. It was his time
to subvert Adama’s favor to the lord and get him fired.
One afternoon, when the cattle grazed in the plateau, Adama left for the
fallow to cut grass for calves. The brutal serf gained from his departure and he
began to flog cows violently. They raced away with rage. He pursued them and
whenever he caught with one of them, he whipped it seriously. The most

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expectant got a limp and mooed repeatedly for rescue. Some others were
bleeding out the ears.
Satisfied with his mischief, he climbed the peak of the hill and started to
smoke his pipe. He glared at the injured cows which stood angrily and wearily in
the land. Bulls who managed to escape the inexplicable rage stormed in the
maize plantation surrounding the meadows and shove it.
“Cows finish the land! Cows finish the maze!” The roar in distance was
heard. Without collecting grass, he rushed out of the bushes and bolted to the
plantations.
The bulls looked at him suspiciously and avoided his approach. The
injured cows whined heavily exhaling out the moaning of sorrow. They had boils
on their skins. When he nuzzled them as he used, they growled at him and he
stayed aside. He stood anxious. After some minutes planning what to do, an idea
came into his mind; to search the wicked and blame him. He swept the whole
area to localize him. Instead he saw big stones rolling past him. As he searched
where they came from, another heavy stone hurled past him. It flung to one of
the bulls’ belly and it screamed loudly. Adama looked upwards on the mound that
was aloof of the hills and found the serf leaning ready to roll another. Adama
floundered and gathered courage to scold him,
“Hey! What are you doing?”
“Imbecile…Slave that I must persecute. How can you gain fame in my
land? Bear in mind that your ancestors, I mean Watusi, made us suffer this way,
scattering us in this land. I can’t put up with you and allow your tyranny on me.”
The wicked serf hollered.
“I’m not interested in your discriminatory words. Tell me why you have
inflicted these innocent domestic animals.” Adama echoed out.
Cows did not muzzle against him as they used. Their filters were
hardened and their milk production decreased. They breathed heavily. The
seriously injured cows winced and mooed with pain that threatened Adama. They
grunted beating their horns against the pegs of their sheds to the extent that the
chief’s first wife came to find what happened to them. The Chief was in bed
savoring on his gourd. The drunkenness blocked his ears from hearing the cries
of his cattle.
As usually the Lord woke up to receive jugs of milk for traditional ritual
blessing. Where he sat on his stool, he missed warm milk for breakfast. He led to
the pens and watched Adama pulling the udders’ extremities for milk. To the
sight of their master, they welcomed him with their whimpering from sores of
sticks. Five of them were seriously injured and they could not stand. This
confounded the chief as soon as he stopped Adama from hurting them. With
fright he saluted the Lord and started to report the incident in shrill voice.
“Lord, it is that good for nothing serf you sent to me. He disappeared just
after he caused this fuss.”
“No explanation…Pack up your things and get away from my sight. If I
ever hear your presence in this area I will bewitch you to death.” The king
brandished his walking stick with ornaments.

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 “Forgive me sir.”
“Leave out of my sight before I call my army to intervene. How much
money shall I pay for the trespassed maize plantation? Who will cure my cows?”
He yelled as he pushed his long traditional stool forward to spit at him in the face.
The chief was frustrated and did not want to hear the drums beating for
his praising. He scratched repeatedly in his grey hair shaking his head and said,
“If only I can catch that criminal …” He sighed and returned in his round
hut that was huge among other ten in the homestead.
It was one and half years that Adama spent in Mbufirabu. He tried to
integrate himself in Nkole society, learning their language, imitating their tradition,
but fugitives of 1994 perpetrations against Watusi became the wolves which
wanted to devour his welfare.
He traveled a long journey on foot from Jinja, Kabale and Toro districts of
Mbufirabu. When he arrived at the extremities of Toro natural forest, an area
bordering Taramu district of Rwanda, a journey of three days, he found a lonely
hut thatched by a pile of umukenke grass. He led to it with the purpose of
begging a log of fire to light a cigarette and beg for a shelter. The door was
locked and abandoned. He tried to force it open. A sudden gale blew down. No
tree stirred sideways. Instead something seized him and pressed him to the wall.
He stood still leaning on that rough wall.
Cemetery! A mystery hard to explain… It started to rain heavily on his
head. Frogs and toads croaked and cries of infants buried there were heard deep
underground calling their mothers not to wean them before time. His presence in
that place became a myth for he was stacked to the wall and yet he was still
conscious. His soberness fainted when a female ghost with wings surrounded
him and started to whip him until he became awkward. His screaming for help
served for nothing. A voice rose from the crowd of those strange creatures then
harassed Adama.
“Shameless …! How do you enter the shrine of your ancestors? You used
to abuse us praising that imported god, ignoring that we can’t have power on
you. Call that Jesus to retrieve you. You have loaded yourself with heavy parcel.
Who will welcome you in this land? You built an iron curtain between him and us.
So kneel down and shut up.” The voice grumbled basely as coming from the pot.
The ghosts were about to tear him up. The light illuminated the whole
place and the ghosts cringed one by one. The voice from the light came out of
the misty cloud then echoed “You, wicked murderers, when will you stop your
malice? You swallowed up my children and relatives and you also need to slay
my young sun. Go back to your hell before I finish you all.”
After dissipating Adama’s persecutors, a shadow dressed in white clothes
horned by a tiara approached. It had wings of a bat. It walked forward crippling.
By the time Adama wondered on what befell him in that night, the shadow
transformed into a beautiful woman with a black combed hair. She pulled him out
of the wall and cuddled him in her nimble fingers of the right arm which brought
signs of humanity in him. The first question she asked was, “What are you doing
in this land? Is this Kararu?”

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 He missed an answer and he stammered. He panted as a dog coming
from a long hunt. The woman went on to chide him.
“You left your father alone in that region. You ate and drank. You even
prayed and played. But these women who allured you brought you an everlasting
curse. You forsook the right path of salvation and indulged in various crimes. You
are still running away from them; remember God is not a child.”
“It’s my bad company. Who are you so that I can glorify you much?”
“Get out of here. Your heart is smelly. You are going to die.”
“Please are you the virgin Mary?”
”I am your mother and I want you to go back to Kararu.”
“Mercy mummy…!” He shouted out raising his hands up.
“Mercy for what? Dirty worthless ingrate! You are crying for pardon. First
join your father, so that you can be buried in our land. Don’t think the illness you
got from that evil that first intoxicated you will be cured by going back home. I see
it in my eyes that you will die roaming. You will cause your father to grieve for
you until he dies. I see you in a ward of moribund crying of accurate pain. The
only hope for you resides in that girl you despised. Your uncle is going to
quarantine you. By the way you save your life and get out of my sight. Ingrate…!
“Mummy, permit me to go with you. Only this time and I will go home
tomorrow.” He implored still clutching to her clothes.
“You better leave this place before your brothers notice your presence
here. You have humiliated them while your survivor could be their glory with your
father.” She commanded as she dipped the ground.
Adama left the place with disappointment. It was beginning to get clear
due to the moonbeam. He entered the forest that looked the scene of carnage.
He found row skins of some animals along the path. The stench filled the whole
forest. He edged his path and as he advanced, something resembling a man
wearing a brown coat stood in front of him. Surely it was not a shadow. It was a
man who carried a sack of things which looked cabbages in that sack. As he
noticed Adama he thudded the sack down and rushed to him. His flabby muscles
failed him again. The murderer whose sack was full to the end barked at Adama,
“Dunderhead…! Why are you here at this hour? Wake up and help me to
carry this parcel. Dare complain and I ruin you.”
A blue Daihatsu was parked at the murderer’s house. In it was a brown
man whose chin was covered by long beards that touched the chest. They
purchased on those products until blows nearly emerged. At last, they agreed on
the price and the man rallied his Daihatsu. After receiving heap of dollars he
turned to Adama and rained orders on him. Adama first scorned him and stood
still.
“Never leave here. From now onwards, you will keep my pigs. Incase one
of them dies, your head will go to Victoria Lake in that Daihatsu.”
“I am afraid that your hands will press my neck to death.”
”Keep quiet! The first law transgressed! Never oppose your boss. Stand
there. Move, dance, hop! Go on and don’t stop.” He noisily commanded.
“Forgive me, I’m obedient sir.” He whined out of panting.

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 “You go to look for grass. If you malinger along the way, I’ m gonna to
pour my cruelty on you.” The murderer ordered wrinkling his nose.
He got out safely with a small machete. He spoke to himself along the
way.
The road joining Tunaga and Toro was being rehabilitated. The Lorries
transported workers from Toro and left them in different stands where they
carried out their duty. Adama’s journey was shortened by one of those Lorries.
Workers in it spoke his mother tongue and pitied him. The region between Toro
and Tunaga is cold even at noon. It is due to the mountains that envelop the
valley and the dense forest in the area that blocks the sunrises to reach the cold
bodies of the passengers. The lorry deflated while they were one kilometer to
Tunaga, the workstation for the road rehabilitation. It had to take the driver a long
time mending the broken-down NISSAN DIESEL. Every one from the lorry had to
arrange himself. The workers trotted in the road carrying their picks and shovels
on their shoulders. Adama stayed alone together with the driver. They shared the
roast maize cobs. The driver rubbed his knees with pomade and fished a piece of
trousers in his tool box and handed it to Adama telling him,
“This car disturbs me much but I am sorry that I’m not going on
toTunaga. Don’t be afraid of anything. If you are going to Gariki, take the left path
and don’t lose it. This path will take to Tunaga in some few minutes and wait for
the taxi on the border.” The driver directed him.
Double cross ways- the river stood in front of him blocking his way. On the
other side of the river some meters was the tarred road. He stood forlorn before
the wiggling water, watching impatiently the cranes, geese and swans that swam
on the surface of that water. Soon after he felt an impulse pushing him to imitate
these birds and cross the river to his motherland where he was urged to lay his
body. He dived into the river. He flopped but the movement of water held him
and; lost the concentration capacity of not consuming some water. He was seen
a distance floating. He must be dead. The sailors imagined as they put their
hooks in their boats and sailed fast to his rescue.
For God’s sake he breathed hard like a goat suffering from overeating.
The sailors pressed his belly propelling it for him to vomit. Once the sailors
entered their boats, they took some food and drink with them. They spent the
whole day in waters of Geraka to hook fish. They could open their bags for lunch
at about 3 o’clock. That was the hour when Adama managed to share the food
with the sailors.
Vehicles at Tunaga passed him like a flash. In the corner of the road, he
was racked by doubts and thumbed for lift at every vehicle even the jaguars,
Regional coaches and convoys. The matatu taxis which stopped immediately left
since he implored the lift. Their drivers pouted him calling him a foolish swindler.
Fusos packed to their full with bunches of bananas passed by him and glared at
them disappearing at the horizons. He wished he could possess tires and travel
like a car. When he was completely desperate, long lorry carrying oil passed him
going slowly. He collected stamina and perched in its back boot. The lorry
traveled the whole night. He did not smell the stench of its smoke of mazout
coming from the lorry’s tail pipe. He cowered himself in the boot like a cat on a

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target of a rat. In the morning, it was in the outskirts of Gobugonya. Adama went
out of its boot and jumped while the driver parked on Station Kobil in the center
of Gobugonya for break.
New shape of the town. No potholes. Kigali towards the vision. Everything
in Kigali was new. The isles were paved by bricks and gravels plastered around
the corners of the Avenues. As he walked up to Kabuga building, a high flat that
belonged to the famous Kabuga, the sponsor of genocide of Watusi in that he
ordered pangas to cut them off; he noticed that there were no sliding roads.
Small gardens covered by passparum grass and palm trees surrounded the road.
The panels around those gardens inscribed “Don’t trespass, no way through”.
The old boutiques of Gobugonya were replaced by three big mansions in storey
for modern supermarket. The parking of matatu was extended. He climbed up
going to Mamuhi where he lived before. Slums there could be seen in the circle
of hoards. In the centre of the town people were in movements. The traffic jam at
Rubangura’s building, UPROTUR industry was alarming. There was also
congestion of the passengers mixed with bandits scrambling to get in taxis, new
yahoo town service minibuses, Tebuka buses, Atraco town service mini buses
and ONATRACOM shuttles. It was a new Kigali with overcrowd of workers. New
fashions were imported. In the center of the town, he admitted his backwardness.
He was the only person in tatters and walking in bare feet. The police thought he
was a lunatic and let him gaze at big premises in Voyuki. There were big
apartments that touched the sky. All of them were raised after his departure. He
read their names-CENTINARY, BCDI, UNION TRADE CENTER, and B.K. He
shook his head as he walked watching other building still under construction. He
asked himself; “Is Kigali New York?” Houses like these after a complete
demolition! They are the pride of Kigali, he observed.
At noon the situation has been unchanged. Rush hour. A group of
improved Mayibobo, those resistant children by then in clean clothes and
bodaboda brand of shoes, thereupon profited to obtain their daily bread. He
looked at their actions and recalled the past misdeeds. One of them pulled the
purse from one passenger. It fell with a note of five thousand Rwandan francs.
The man looked behind and the Mayibobo was running through the crowd.
Adama crept to the red note and walked elated to Ramiro restaurant in center
commercial to have diner after long hours he had spent along the way.
He could not believe the generosity of the restaurant chief. Maybe he
knew him somewhere. A man who pitied him not to waste his money…It was an
exception in Kigali that progressed to the capitalism. He watched at that man with
long face and realized it was not once he had found him. Adama trusted him and
narrated his long sad story in brief starting from Mbufirabu and his way back to
Kararu. He ended by self introduction.
“I’m Adama, Kabeyi’s son in the eastern province.”
“Adama…?” He puzzled out.
“Are you from Kararu?”
The man sighed and blurted out a yes.
“I am your uncle.” He added.

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 The prophecy came to reality. He met one of his relatives to whom he had
been planning to join the first time he entered Gariki. They could talk more about
their sour backgrounds. The only drawback they faced was the increase of
customers. He showed Adama somewhere to lay his back and kept on ushering
and serving hungry drivers and white collar bosses.

BROKEN HEARTS
CHAPTER NINETEEN

Sex thrills, AIDS kills! Break the silence and talk about the AIDS
were the motto. This message was written on each wall and corner of the town.
Leaflets of how to protect oneself were spread by Ministry of Health official to
every passenger in public highways of Kigali, back streets areas of Kigali in
places like Mboraminya where AIDS was rampant and in the outskirts where
teenage girls were vulnerable because of drunkards who involved in defilement.
The topic of the ongoing preparation for the 1st December was “Don’t stigmatize
the AIDS patients. Assist them. They need our care”
Cloths on which this slogan appeared were posted in the center of the town at
the round about where the adverts of big events were hangs. Different speakers
of the day stressed about the effects of this disease.
“AIDS hampers Rwandan economy. It grounds down the population who
still undergo the poverty and genocide aftermaths. Counselors, doctors, parents
and leaders of Rwanda, shed your efforts to hammer HIV out. Create clubs to
talk about that monster and its propagation. Sensitize people about protecting
themselves against HIV infection. Abstain from violating the sixth commandment.
HIV is not transmitted by sharing cups or plates with the patient, but if you share
the scissors and razors you will probably be infected. Ladies and gentlemen do
not discriminate or stigmatize those victims. Help them and add their chances to
live long. Remember ABCE strategy; abstain, be faithful, use contraceptive and
give your children the education. Yes, the education above all, this agent of
change, socialization and demystification. Live long in peace driving away the
massive massacres which tends to be created by AIDS.” The minister of health
harangued on the radio program at the end of the news broadcast.
A club of anti-aids was founded in Mamuhi. The whole of young girls and
young boys of Mamuhi attended the club activities in great number. The week-
ends were hotter than ever. Music, dancing, animation and the commotion of
actors filled the area and attracted the people to come and have a look at what
was happening. However the attitudes and the mannerisms of some club
members contradicted the principles of the clubs. Young boys and young girls
profited club activities to cajole one another in the dark evening hours when
dancing the pop music.
Philipus and Carine met Tina unexpectedly along the way in the
crossways of Mamuhi and Ficyaha a place resembling the round about that was

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used by a bunch of swindlers and gamblers. Tina looked gloomy and she
immersed herself in thoughts. She might not even notice a car coming ahead and
she might stub on cartoons along the road. Carine tiptoed behind her and
touched her with a bunch of grass and Tina grimaced,
“Ouch! Help, a caterpillar is stinging me.” She cried out removing her pull
over wiping repeatedly the area.
“We were not meant to hurt you choo.” She apologized laying hands on
Tina’s bosom and she went on attracting her curiosity.
“By the way we bring latest news for you. The very up to date one…
Guess!”
“I bet you ten thousands if you try.” Philipus added with a laughing mood.
“Don’t joke with a deadpan.” She groaned back impatiently.
“It’s a film of love and I know you are a queen in that game.” Carine
humorously gave her a reference.
“Please, take away your flatteries. Anyway, where are you from? From
Adama’s; no I mean from the club. I don’t know what devils have entered me to
think of that sly boy? I hate him than anyone else.”
Carine and Philipus chuckled and Carine who didn’t want to shift the
subject went on talking about Adama, the name Tina raised. She complained of
Carine’s obnoxious remarks and questions. To sort out of the anguish she
defended herself.
“Our savior says that the wicked flee when nobody pursues them.”
“Tina, those are sour grapes. You want to listen to what we say. I have
met him along the way.” Philipus announced.
Tina, overjoyed, she jumped as she muttered some hallelujah and other
phrases of praises.
“Maybe, it not him you met.”
“Believe me. I know how painful love is. I saw Adama. He is so slender.
He must have been in custody for some years.” Philipus asserted.
“Adama is no longer alive. He passed away.” Tina disagreed with them.
“Don’t think Philipus invented a story to fool you? I myself saw him this
afternoon. Unfortunately that he fled from me.” Carine added to complement
Philipus.
“Fifty percent I can understand you but, I have to prove that by myself. If it
is true, I…” She cut short the last sentence with a grin on her face.
Adama always wore a glum face. This was due two reasons-his social
ladder as a houseboy without freedom at his uncle to whom he had been
expecting to boost his welfare shocked him. The eyes that knew him were
another factor which created complex in him. Whenever he walked in Ficyaha
streets, he felt shameful and paced not to spend a long time at the place. He
quickened his pace to get out of the place unnoticed. One evening he came from
the shop to buy tomatoes and peanut flour. In his hurry to escape the persons,
he collided with Tina coming from her work place. She pulled his shirt and
Adama felt much disturbed as he apologized. The glowing tiredness made him
glower at her. She held him tightly and scrutinized him. Adama faltered a word of
apology again. She opened a long interview to him.

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 “I can’t believe what I see now.” She was designated and heart broken.

Adama sighed and fixed his eyes on the soil then answered,
“Days have transformed me.”
“It is true that you survived the arrest?”
He paused and gathered courage to answer her.
“Tina, forgive me for I dirtied your honor. I was kleptomaniac. Asumani
used to warn me from time to time. I would have been killed the same day with
Kaganga. Abroad, the same inflictions affected me indirectly. What hardship!
What discrimination! Imagine that I met the militants from MRND who were about
to slaughter me. It’s awful. I can’t tell it. From exile, I am toiling to my uncle as a
houseboy.”
“A house what?”
“I am a house boy at my uncle’s homestead. I requested him the ticket to
go back in the village and as an answer, he told me to wait until his business die
out.”
“What can I help you to get out of these continuing morbid conditions?”
“Nothing… Let me carry my burdens. I am sure I am under my
disobedience curse for misdeeds.”
He pleaded with much sorrow.
“Oyaaa…! Tell me so that I can help you as my lover. I don’t mind about
your past and present. What I need is to embellish our future with myrrh of wealth
and peace”
“That’s may be good. Unfortunately, it is not possible for I have no ability. I
mean the economic power to keep on loving you. Where can I can I take you? I
disobeyed my father and I can’t go back to…..In addition, the bully of my uncle’s
wife is beyond bearing. She is a devil.”
“Think deeply about it and take this offer from your darling for granted.
You know well I am crazy over you. I have chosen to wait for you so that we can
deal in together for our development. Therefore, you’d better go to your father
and confess your scorn. He will give you the parental benediction and bless.”She
persuaded Adama who looked double-crossed.
Their talk stopped when Adama heard a female sound.
“Please, release me. She is coming drunk again.”
“No, don’t go. Why do you fear her?”
“She can abuse me seriously and you know that my existence in this
modern town towards the vision depends on her.”
“Ok. Good bye and have nice dreams.”
“Thank you!”
“Don’t forget that issue we have been tackling.”
“I will chew on it.”
At first, Mado, Adama’s uncle wife enjoyed Adama. She helped him in
some of the household chores. She always manifested proofs of love that
frightened Adama. She might come in his room dressed only in under pant with a
towel wrapped on her chest, then rubbed herself with cream. One day she came
and applied her antics to wrap Adama. The guy flounced out. They fought near

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the door, Mado wrestling to lock the door and Adama struggling to unlock it. He
got impaled the hand by the nail near the handle. From her, Mado, a pretending
Allah believer, because she always pronounced Allah whenever something went
wrong, kept rancor towards Adama and oppressed him so that he could not
divulge the incident. It was rumored that Adama’s uncle pen performed poorly
and left Mado craving to heal her itching. Whenever she complained to him; the
weary man due to business and tusker retorted roughly;
“Don’t upset me with your nonsense. Business first… Today, I bought a
fridge in Kiruhura flea market and I will resell it with the benefit of five thousand.
A fence I am. The bitter life taught to arrange myself. I am not an onlooker in this
capitalist town. Yes…! The vision 2020 is with me. No taxes, no what, but caught,
I will join these murderers who found prisons their families!”
Mado forged affection on him many times in the midnight by touching him
gently. The man snorted loudly. Awaiting the results in vain, she chose to
cohabitate with other man incognito. His husband who was henpecked and
carried away by business did not discover that extramarital affair of his spouse.

BROKEN HEARTS
CHAPTER TWENTY

Adama worked in household chores from the dawn up to the fall of the
midnight. He swept the wastes, cleaned the dishes, he cooked many pots as it is
customary in urban civilized areas and finally he fetched water at Marathon, two
kilometers from Ficyaha, a scene of burglary. He could sometime get backlog
due to shortage of water in the area. He was called all sorts of insults. His
contribution was not hailed. Instead in the eyes of Mado he was naughty.
In the short time he spent slaving; he lost about five kilos on his miserable
weight. His height was a needle. At first he thought he consumed death products
from Mbufirabu. Later he realized that his terrible meagerness was due to hard
labor. Since then, despite the yoke, dictatorship and abuses from Mado, his
courage to work decreased; which strengthened Mado to pour venomous words
of sadism on him.
“Hey! You refuse to work while my husband spends nights and nights in
order to fill your hole. Your eyes are bigger than your stomach! The non-stopping
eater like hearth... You have accused me of copulating with other men. You will
regret your loose tongue. I know well you still have a case with the police. Even
your uncle will turn a buck against you imbecile who nose in my affairs,”
That Sunday of the 14th December 2002, Adama could have taught her a
lesson. He stood furiously glaring at her. He stepped forward folding his soaked
shirt arms. Mado grumbled at him cringing backwards. Adama noticed her fright
and advanced to assault and teach her a lesson. His super ego warned him of
the case he had with the police. He led where he laid the dishes with much

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sorrow. In his servitude, he picked plates and cleaned them one by one as lazy
as he wished as a total slob boy. He spent the whole day sullen. The harassment
of Mado and the case of the robbery of about three years flustered him. The
pregnant nostalgia for his father emerged in him and for years of not attempting
to weep, he burst into silent sobs that were revealed by drops of tears that wetted
his cheeks.
The situation worsened when he served the tea with a flaw to his uncle. It
was in the morning of Wednesday, a very cold place. It was raining and the
whole areas of the lovely Kigali were all engulfed by smoky clouds. Adama’s
uncle fled the warmth of the bed and replaced it with the heat from Rwanda tea
so that he could work. He lifted the cup to pour the content in his tunnel leading
to the stomach on the lips. The flecks of dust welcomed him and stained his
white shirt. Fusty smell saluted him and he grunted.
“Face me and tell me why these cups are very smelling like a dead thing. I
always tell you to keep the cups clean to avoid dysentery. My wife even reminds
you about this many times. What will I do to show you that health is important? In
addition some of my trousers got crease and you don’t iron them. Think twice
about your bad work and your old crimes that are risky to me anytime the police
getting the information that I have hidden you, instead of complaining about
wages. What for?” He brandished the left hand that held the cup nearly to hurl
the content on him.
Adama neither answered back nor say a word of apology. He stayed
motionless and speechless. It seemed his thoughts wandered far beyond. Busy
is meditating on how to forage the identity pieces, he plumped the piece of towel
he held. As he bent to pick it, he felt quite light headed. No sooner than he
attempted to bend than a sudden dizzying attacked him. He lost consciousness
and the equilibrium. Convulsions hit him and he collapsed. His uncle felt for him
and ran to support him. Mado who was coming through another door yelled at
him,
“He is fooling us. He wants to linger his work. He gamboled about and he
fell. Don’t trust that heathen thief. Let me call him or tell him the cops are coming
and see how he gets up fast.”
She used the scraper. She turned him upside rolling him sideways with
this instrument. He was no longer breathing. He was deep in coma. He was
abandoned there for hours lying flat on his back without signs of life.
To his coming round, the malevolent wife who was filleting fish drummed
heavy orders to him. Light the brazier! Wash the dishes! Remove that thing or go
to the market and come back in a short time.
As the days slipped by, he became meager. Tina passed nasty days
planning for his good future above all freeing him from the Mado’s cold-blooded
temper.
The work condition was always the status quo. He hobbled back to his
condition and the project to escape her was impossible. No identity card and
Mado baffled his plan of disappearing as a sanspapier.

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 In his poor treatment, he made the best of the bad job. He had been a
donkey of Mado. His going back to the village seemed to be nonstarter. The only
solution to his problems was Tina. He wished Tina to dwell near him.
He stood cross-legged across the road erasing the smirk from his face.
Beside him were two huge cans of water that leaked. Tina appeared and she
coerced him with a smile. Adama relapsed into silence that weighed on her.
“Are you feeling well?”
“Not at all…!” He groaned.
“I see you are seriously ill, you can go to the dispensary for some
treatments.” She advised.
“It is loneliness. At least my depression seems to be somehow alleviated.
Tina, you are my mother not my lover.” He sighed heavily fixing his glance at her.
“I know and I’m grateful.” She thanked Tina. Her main goal was to
discover his illness by trapping him. So she announced good news for him.
“Yesterday I met a Whiteman who wanted to help parentless dropped out
children and cater for their education. I registered with you but something lacks
on your file.”
“What it is it?”
“A test of HIV paper misses.”
The terror enveloped him. He shivered and his face was completely
covered with small zits of cold. Sweat ran across his chops. He gathered the
courage to answer back to Tina.
“This favor from you is terrible to my life. It can cost you much money.”
“Money is not a problem. I am ready to pay every expense. That is an
opportunity not to waste. Do not worry about the results. He receives also the
patients of AIDS and cares for them to add their hope of life.” He convinced
handing him a five thousand note.
The night had been too long. It was dominated by nightmares that
dropped like rain. From Kararu’s horrible events in April 1994, many wakes of
remembering the departed ones, the life of vagrancy in Kigali the key of his
losing the hope for future, life in foreign country and his crimes to martyrdom at
his own blood created desperation in him. A fog of desperation grew heavy and
blanketed his subconscious. The day broke hardly for him.
“I am not available. I am not well.” He announced to Mado and her
husband.
“Do not fox us so as to go away. The police will catch you.” Mado put the
kibosh on Adama’s plan of trying his chances.
“Do not hold your breath depriving me from going to heal my body. No
money supply I need from you. I very well know it is to ask a fly to donate blood.
Let me free.” Adama defended himself moving out of the room.
The road was congested with cars of notable bosses. Hummer and
Limousine which slowed in that jam saluted the onlookers making them agape.
Even the passengers inside Matatus and big buses peeped at those wonders of
Rwanda. Outside, a queue of spectators admired those cars of luxury with
comments of description. Again another thing worsened the situation of
crossing. In that morning there was an accident in the center of Kigali. A land

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cruiser crushed a school boy in a zebra crossing. A crowd of sympathizer road
blocked to prevent the careless wicked driver who wanted to escape. There was
pressure. So the traffic police performed their duty of orienting the vehicles with a
whistler to keep the order.
On both sides of the road was a fracas of Fair Construction machines
around the Chinese embassy in Rwanda mixed with the talking of the persons
who sympathized with the little one as the ambulance collected his body to the
hospital. He kept on walking in Kiyovu that was completely changed to the
America in Rwanda. Pretty long mansions, beautiful gardens and clean people
passed there letting beams that blossomed Rwanda’s hope of development. He
didn’t know where to stop. He only relied on panels where the word hospital
could be seen and finally he reached Rwanda HIV/AIDS and infectious disease
control center.

Nurses welcomed Adama as if they have interacted with him before.

Where he plopped on a sofa, he answered a series of questions gazing at that
private room whose ceiling covered by glasses and floor with multi color carpets.
On the wall, he found the pictures of men and girls leading a sex oriented talk.
Under the pictures were the wise words “Abstain from prostitution in whatever
you do, make sure you are preventing the spread of this disease.”

The most prominent question that left him surprised was to know whether
he had ever made loved. He first kept quiet, but later he revealed everything.
Asked whether he used the condom, he failed to put up with that and he
chuckled. He was admitted to another room. There the doctor pierced him with
an injection which sucked the blood out of his vein. Finding it filled in the tube
nearly black; he surely assumed that he was infected. On the other hand he
relieved himself that he was safe. Waiting with a counselor they exchanged
words. He felt austere to some extent.
After a two hour anticipation sitting with the nurses he heard his name
called. He was at sixes and sevens. A sudden lump choked him. He was
appalled. He advanced into the doctor’s glossy room. As soon as he sat down
the doctor asked him the same questions the nurses asked earlier. The doctor
didn’t want to reveal the result thoroughly. On that sofa, he waited impatiently for
the answer. He trembled and chattered his teeth. By observation, the doctor
learnt his fright. The remedy of fire is fire itself as the Rwanda wise maxim says.
The doctor could not avert telling him nasty result full of horror,
“These are your condoms. Use them anytime you are engaged in sex
making.” The doctor coerced.
“Doctor these are many and I no longer engage in sex matters.”
“Don’t mind. I deserve this for you. Do use them before making love. Read
the rules before using them. I know it is very demanding to cope with their usage.
You will take to them. It should be better if you stop making love as you have
already declared.” The doctor removed his spectacles rubbing his big red eyes.
Adama implied from that he was not healthy and asked humorously the doctor,

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 “Does it matter if I use one condom several times? For example using it
and wash it with a strong detergent and use it for the next occasion.”
“Never use it more than once. It’s taboo.” The Doctor interjected sneering
at him. This intimate conversation served him a stimulus to express the result to
Adama,
“You are Adama?” He asked with a nod of his head that meant something.
“Yes doctor.” He replied his heart pounding repeatedly and impatiently.
“With great sorrow, I would like to tell you…”
“Oya weeee! Keep away your sham! Go back to your microscope to
examine my blood. The result is not mine.” He shouted with a fiery temper.
“Be sorry!” He declared as he presented his file for witness.
“Look here. You are not even HIV but your lungs are torn because of
smoking. As a piece of advice, go and change your diet. Avoid smoking and hard
work. Eat the rich food in proteins, glucose and other micronutrients such
vitamins and minerals. Don’t be depressed. Come here for anti-retroviral
medicine and for CD4 counts.” The doctor instructed.
“I am going to die. This is a severe reward of my sins. I forsook my father
and disappointed Nema. Those harlots I slept with…” he yelled as he nipped out
of the room dazed.
He felt cheap from all sorts of discrimination and agonizing illness were to
storm on him without somebody to take care of him. He blasted his existence. “Is
it this I survived for?” He wondered.

BROKEN HEARTS
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

Tina, in her business felt uneasy condemning herself to have let down his
lover. He was the one she counted on despite his being socially low. Adama
didn’t come to inform her about the results. Something bad must have happened,
she thought.
She asked his location. Instead his uncle who was hypnotized by her size
and beauty stayed quiet. Where Adama lay down in the bleak room recognized
her voice and then he struggled to stand and usher her. In his attempt to rise up,
he barged against the wall, but he fell. He stayed there grunting without
movement. Heat glowed throughout him and the sweat shed over his wounded
body. His jeremiad entered Tina’s ears as she insisted on meeting him.
She went to where the voice called from. His room was near the store.
There was a line that he could not cross. By the time he was stumbling to come,
he collided on the charcoals that made him bleed profusely. She teetered in that
gloomy room jingling the plates and forks to one another and reached a cell like
room where she found emaciated, disfigured body lying curled in the corner.
Nothing she could utter after such strange encounter. Her throat swelled with

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compassion. It was terrible to find him there while she seemed powerless to save
his life. His face was withdrawn. He looked about eighty years more than he
looked before. She bent down to pick him but his uncle’s cutting remarks
prevented her.
She had nothing to offer as support; except that she could beg an SOS
from CHK hospital van in order that it could save the health of that moribund. As
she phoned, Mado and her husband slunk and left her handling Adama.
In no time the ambulance was humming leaving sirens that invited a
danger in Ficyaha. The nurses came dressed in white aprons. They burrowed in
that small hell and looked where he was laid. Tina was sitting hallucinated by the
gravity of the disease. The place teemed with maggots and flies and she was
driving them apart. At his sight, nurses fell aback and the emotional ones among
the delegation managed to cover their eyes with their palms. One of them who
were unwell failed to control her oozing of bullets of loaves of cakes from her
mouth. All nurses stood frenzied. It had to be a double task.
The brave ones among them overcame the state of paradox and brought
their utensils out their boxes. They put on their gloves and examined his blains.
As they pressed them he screamed with pain up to when he got his pants wet. A
pungent stench filled the air and nurses could not complain on their vacation.
They sprinkled the drops of medicine on his torn flesh and lay him for some
minutes.
That was the saddest episode. The nurses ordered sheets to cover his
naked body. None at home was ready to respond. Tina took off her wrapper and
covered it to his body. The nurse who was caught there cried severely.
Fortunately they arrived at the hospital and Adama was still gasping. The
doctors were agitated every here and there did not delay giving him first aid.

By then, it was like a convention that once lying down in the ward four or
three, you stayed seated outside until the evening when the exhausted doctor
might signal you angrily to leave. That day, some doctors were found watching
seriously at their computers. Nurses gained from such anarchy and boycotted
their duties. When they were around, they might spend time on telephone booth
laughing with their lovers. Other nurses extended their level in universities
around CHK. What a mess! Most of the time patients became victims of lack of
care and inefficiency of few of the nurses.

The first and the second days passed and he was still groaning but
somehow improving. Nurses and doctors did their bit to avoid his breath expire.
Blood serum became his food.
On the third day he woke up asking something soft to drink. Tina who
asked some days off to care for her patient brought him some juice. He gulped it
and sighed with relief and muttered thank you to her.
Next days he was somehow recovered. Though feeding on the blood
banks and CD4 he would get woken up and sit. He never ceased to give his
compliments to Tina.

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 “Your reward is in heaven. I myself can’t afford something worth your
love.”
“Don’t mind. It’s our obligation to love. I can’t desert you in tribulations.”
She guaranteed.
“Once bitten, twice shy. If God listened to my prayers and succor me, I
would never fall in temptations again. The only thing that shatters my heart is that
I am dying without meeting my father. I let down Neema. I wish I could meet her
at beg her pardon. ” He sighed. “For Sala, we meet in hell or heaven or in
purgatory.” He sobbed as he cursed himself. Tina too kept on conforting him.
She knew well that once the AIDS patient follows the doctor’s instructions about
preventing further viral charges, a person lives long. For a moment, she leant
over the bed and used the seal of her wrapper to muffle his tears.

Health programs that were taught throughout the country focused on

sexual and reproductive health mainly HIV/AIDS information, avoiding early sex
initiation and family planning among others. Therefore students founded
associations and clubs to fight the spread of HIV. One of the clubs was led by
Philipus. He was the coordinator of PSI in schools after his secondary school
class. He and his team had the ambitions to help AIDS carriers with moral
advice. Their sensitization played a great role in the fight against the spread of
the HIV virus through prostitution. They advocated sexual education and
demystified some of the beliefs that teenagers’ acne was caused by not
practicing sex. They disparaged sexploitation and girls acquired skills on how to
count their menstrual cycle. The use of condom was encouraged to avoid
unprotected sexual intercourse. What was sorry and sadistic was the fact that
some of the youth had false ideas that once sexual intercourse is done during the
day a girl could not conceive basing on the experience of the married people who
do their sexual intercourses during the night and get babies.
Adama’s condition worsened when the fever and accurate pain attacked
him. In his severe pain as he looked in the sky and muttered inaudible words.
The only dying wish he had was to meet his father again and apologize to him.
The problem was one-the rest of his life was to be spent in the hospital.
Next day, nothing changed. He had an unhealthy flush and breathed with
difficulty. In that hard condition, Philipus and his delegations that included Carine,
the vice president of the club activities and a counselor at PSI, and other few
members of the club went to CHK. They found Tina dysphonic and unwell.
In hospitals, patients in grave condition traumatized them. In the ward
number 3 and 4, things were shocking. Except the tongue, the bodies of the
patients in those rooms were dim. The only big part that stood out was the head
with wrinkles and rides of Sabyinyo volcano.
The sight of Adama lying down among those miserable people almost
made their eyes water. Adama opened his eyes and spoke in a hoarse voice
after a long pause.

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 “Thank you for remembering me. I abandoned class and became a crass.”
He paused and resumed his admonish, “I beg you to pay attention. Most of the
time, we spend days telling daggers to our lovers only for our sexual impulses.
From today onwards, treat every person as HIV positive. If not, you will be killing
your future. Think twice.” After he faltered these sentences, he closed the eyes.

In disgust and grief, his visitors remained speechless as they tapped the floor
with their toes while Carine shook her head in disbelief.

BROKEN HEARTS
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

It was the short dry season. It rained rarely in small quantity. Paths were
dusty. The dust caused the spread of flu in Kararu. Banana plantations were
huge and gave good production. When you were in that plain, you couldn’t see
the landscape of Taramu savannah and the peaks of Rukiga moor because the
plantations were dense. In that period great deal of peasants was found drunk in
pubs in Kararu center. The custom of Gusukirana (Giving one another beer)
started. People of Kararu were no longer living as islands. One might invite his
neighbors to rejoice praising God on account of his production. Some of the dead
rituals were risen up. These include New Year festival, kurya ubunyano (Giving
the name to the new born child) and many others. Such traditional practices were
for Rwanda identity despite the antagonism brought by bad governance which
promoted division to generate discrimination that swelled and burst genocide of
Watusi. By then it had been a good time for Rwandans to restore the lost identity
in order to strengthen their nation boosting reconciliation, unity and patriotism in
her reconstruction.
On that morning of 20th February Kabeyi was busy fumigating his lands.
There occurred anthrax in the nearby sector of Taramu. Consequently the cattle
were quarantined and milk dealers and butchers were banned to sell any cow
products.
He felt a glow within himself and he paused. He mused over what caused
him to be exhausted that way. “My eyes are itching and every part of my bad
hurts especially my spine. Maybe something wrong has happened in my
homestead.” He complained to Nzicuza who gathered banana leaves to cover
the sorghum imbibed in water at home.
A nightingale gamboled about in front of him. It was believed that this bird
was the forerunner and the messenger of visitors to come afar.

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 He continued to work with the force. The more he pumped, the more his
underarm pained him. He couldn’t insist in such mood. He went home to egg his
serfs on brewing quickly in order to get juice to offer to a visitor of his
premonition.
At about 10 AM the brilliant sunshine from the iron sheets of his house
illuminated the yard. He stood in that scorching sun looking in every direction for
some solace. He saw a tall man. The man was robust and dressed in black suits.
He was potbellied and you might assume him to be a state agent. He shambled
along gazing at Kabeyi’s cow pens and nodded. He looked a sneaker. Kabeyi
took a close look at him and shoved the serfs to make everything tidy. He
imagined that the man came on the investigation. He started to think that his land
was going to be confiscated maybe for his son’s loans anywhere.
Kabeyi’s fears increased as the survivor of the fallout. The man threatened
Kabeyi when he looked at the paper he had and then entered his compound.
Kabeyi tried as much as possible to welcome him as his honor required.
The Noble was encouraged to introduce himself.
“First of all I have been impressed by your welcome full of kindness while
it is my first visit in this home as well as the whole area.”
“Surely….” Kabeyi showed politeness.
“My business here is to antagonize you. I am the Noble or Mwenyemari as
they nickname me. I own many mansions and companies in Kigali. Yes!
Companies like Mulindi spare parts, hotels like Welcome to The Paradise and
many others. I travelled abroad. Yes! There is no single country of this globe I
haven’t set feet on. USA, Canada, England, France, Hillshire,… My journey is to
prepare to go to heaven. ” The Noble proudly declared shaking a bunch of keys
on the lion looking like a key ring.
“You must be an important man, I see.”
“Don’t think I am coming to divert you of your money. I have mine. I hope it
is you Kabeyi, the father of a thug called Adama.”
“Yes, I am. What has he done? Don’t tell me he has robbed!”
“Exactly…! He had also kidnapped my daughter after impregnating her. I
thought I might find him here. He is no longer in the town.”
“I have never seen him again since he ditched me. He dissipated his
crimes by disappearing. By the way, the carelessness of your daughter made her
fall through.” He declared confidently.
“My daughter is careless?” He coughed and resumed his speech,” I’ m not
for your dud. He raped my daughter and harmed her future by interrupting her
studies. By now she could have been on campus. I thank God that I’m with you.”
“I didn’t involve him in that affair. I am a broken heart as well as you are.
He is my only son and child. All others died in Genocide. Maybe God blessed
you with sons. So why do you want to detain me for nothing?” His speech invited
the Noble to be understood to some extent.
Their conflict was ended by a khaki letter which fell out from the Noble’s
laps. He picked it and tore it to read its content. He was so elated.
“Nema…Nema….Ne-ma my child is alive. Very wonderful…” The noble
repeated. Loud applauds broke and they thanked the almighty for she was still

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alive. She had been spending almost one and four months in cadet course and
she was preparing wedding with Asumani who was once upon Adama’s ally in
the burglary. The letter served a messenger to the courtship.
Kabeyi cursed the migration of the youth in town. Their conversation
shifted from topic to topic, from the hustles of modernization on tradition,
genocide and their private life. Television's influence on the younger generation
was the focus.
“This thing Telezivision is corrupting the minds of the young generation. It
is erasing the cultural values that we embraced.”
“It is alarming. The history reveals that such tools can go beyond the
collapse of the culture.”
“The history proves itself. Take the example of our history. The youth grew
up being taught hatred. If not our youth can learn vicariously bad culture of those
foreign lands. The relevance must be taken care of but history is dynamic not in
the sense that it changes from day to day and period to period, but also to the
extent it is an entity distorted by anyone who seeks to realize his full potentialities
of egocentrism. The history we need is the one that unites us. We have to teach
the present through the past which is not distorted so as to restore our lost
identity and culture in order to retain peace and stability.”
“What you say is true. But it is a long process to recover from the disease
left by those who sawed antagonism and still need to conduct a series of
incursions for intimidation. Above all the path to peace as I come to realize
resides in fighting illiteracy, poverty, the problem of land, repatriation of refugees
including the fugitives among others, teaching persons to think positively about
our future and at last the genocide ideology eradication will consolidate the step
to unity and reconciliation among Rwandans.”
Though they talked joyfully, something continued to confound Kabeyi. He
looked up in the sky listening to the radio, vultures soared in the sky chanting
their dirges and falcons perched on the Umunyinya tree at home bending their
shoulders as if they were mourning. This worried him much,
“I am very dreary as if I’ve fallen from the scrape sky.”
“Relax. It won’t last for so long.” The Noble cheered on.
“I must follow death announcements. I have a premonition that someone
in my family died.”
“It is the result of dotage.”
“No. Something bad in my family has happened.”
He was about to give further information, he listened an announcement
then shouted out,
“Let me listen!”

The CHK hospital calls upon Kabeyi that he should immediately report to
CHUK where his son Adama is admitted……
“Admitted for what?” Kabeyi cried out and in the process he nearly bumped his
post radio to the wall, was it not for the noble’s snatching it from him. The climate
became high as soon as he broke into a roar.

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