Short Stories – Patrick Kayongo

Of Mountains and Hills

It’s hard to pinpoint where the cocktail Phakamani’s love, and fear of high places came from. The love may have come from the views he found solace in during his years of sojourn in Cape Town. From the upper campus of UCT, he would take lunch walks to Rhodes Memorial to escape what he considered to be trivial social games. After graduating, he would escape the trivial social games of his Newlands office park to take lunchtime walks through the forest up to his favourite lookout point. And the fear may have come from being found out to be doing this. The shame of being unable to integrate. And the embarrassment of being called “Mountain Boy” in hushed tones.

Fourways Mall

It’s Saturday at 1:37pm. I’ve been sitting in the 2^nd floor parking trying to muster the energy to walk in there to do everything on my to-do list: buy bread rolls for the kids’ lunch, new school shoes for Khanyi, check on the price of a new iron, and maybe just maybe upgrade my phone contract.

River Flows

Crouched on the side of his bed, Tambu sat sobbing. He had slammed the door to his bedroom and needed time out after yet another fight with his parents.

I really don’t belong here.

They’ll never understand me.

They’re so toxic and oppressive.

I don’t know how much longer I can last here.

Iinkomo

“I know you’ve explained this to me before, but why do I have to leave again?”

Gomolemo was packing the last bit of her belongings into her bags, rushed by her anger and irritation.

The News

So, the plan is to be in and out. Focus Tshidi. I don’t need anything from Dischem. I don’t need that new dress in the Spring Collection at H&M. Just a tray of meat, garlic rolls and juice.

Snap. It’s payday weekend and there are such long lines at this Checkers. I’m already late for this braai that I don’t really want to go to, and these long lines at the till are going to make me even later. Quick rush to the meat section, grab a juice along the way and the join them. Come on, psyche yourself up. This is going to be fun.

Play

“I’ve got an idea!”

Musa now had the attention of all the other kids. They started lifting their backs from the lazy sloth on the paved ground outside of his garage. All the kids in the conformant townhouse complex regularly gravitated towards his house during the school holidays.

“Let’s build a rocket to go into space!”

Disenchantment

Three days had now passed since there was electricity. Refiloe had 10% battery life left on her phone after recharging at her parents’ home earlier in the day. In addition to that, there had been no water since the morning. Joburg Water had promised restoration by 2pm, but 48 minutes had already snuck passed that deadline, breaking the fragile hope, a hope impaired by past empty promises.

A New Dog

“What are you doing now?”

Sabelo asked Zoleka as she was taking a video of every part of their living room with her phone. He was growing tired of her ever-new discoveries and project ideas, and he didn’t know if he had the energy to stomach this new one. But she was too busy with what she was doing to even notice he had come into the room.

Martyr

Crouched behind a thicket, Mirundi tried to catch his breath. He quickly lifted his hand from the floor to catch the sweat that had started dripping from his forehead. His hand was shaking uncontrollably, jerked back and forth by the fear of getting caught again. Mukaajanga, the chief executioner, had sent his men into the forest to find Mirundi who had escaped the fatal march to Busega for execution by decapitation and fire.

Stimela

23 June 1898. Mqanduli, Tembuland.

“But who’s going to teach our sons to become men?”