memoirsfromzimbawee

Zex was a short bulky man with a cheerful smile. A popular man among the residents of Chiredzo town, he would ensure that the electricity was soon restored whenever there was a blackout. He was also a political activist and was well liked for his straightforward approach to business and justice. Such popularity was dangerous, as it implied a serious risk to his safety. For a month, three dangerous men had been tailing him and they were almost licking their lips with pleasure at the prospect of catching up with him. That Friday evening after work, he had filled his car’s tank and, as he drove towards his farm, he was stopped by a group of men standing in the road. “Come out, you sellout!” barked a tall muscular man dressed in a black suit and dark shades. It was getting dark. “What shall we do to him?” asked another man. “Blindfold him!!” shouted the first man. Two other men emerged from the bush carrying huge stones. They tied these to his legs. Driving quietly, they headed towards Dorking Dam. After putting on their black gloves, they hauled him out and threw him into the reservoir, and with a splash his body went down to the bottom. The following day, news of his disappearance was the talk of the small town, which was quiet and tense. For two days they searched, without any luck. On the third day the fate of Zex was there for all to see. His drowned body was pulled out with the huge stones still tied to his legs, his lips marked with tiny wounds where the fish had begun to nibble them. Yes, as they say in African culture, you can kill unseen but the soul of the dead will always rise up.