Prologue
Funeral
Fifteen Years Earlier
Mama died two weeks after Runyararo’s birthday. It was very sudden. One day she was there and the next day she wasn’t. She went in her sleep. Some relatives said it was because she was sick. She was sick and did not tell anyone, they said. Others said that it was a muroi, maybe a close friend or even a distant relative who was jealous of her who had cursed her and caused her to die. Runyararo didn’t know which story was true and which wasn’t, what she did know was that Mama was gone now. Mama would never comb her hair in the morning. Mama would never sing hwai hwai and play with her in the afternoon or tell her Bible stories at night. Mama was gone! But she knew Mama was in heaven with God and Jesus, because that’s where Mama told her people went when they died. Knowing that made her feel a little better.
But as she stood in the crowd watching the men lower her Mama into the earth, she wondered how Mama would get to heaven. Wouldn’t it be hard to climb out of the box and all that dirt? She glanced over at Cle-Cle, she wanted to ask him how Mama would get to heaven from the box. He would know. He was older so he knew everything. But she hesitated when she saw the look on his face. Clemence looked like he was in pain, his face was all scrunched up and he kept swallowing and swallowing.
Her brother had always been the stronger one; never crying when he fell down. The brave one, he wasn’t afraid of the neighbours dogs like she was. But right now he looked so hurt and broken.
Runyararo reached out and put her hand in his, wanting to make him feel better. “Don’t worry, Cle-Cle,” she whispered loudly, trying to be heard over the people who were singing and crying. “Mama’s going to God.” But Clemence only shook her hand out of his and quickly wiped his face. Runyararo frowned and looked to her father.
Maybe he could tell her how Mama would get to heaven. He knew lots about God. He talked about God with all the people who gathered in their garden sometimes. But her father wasn’t looking at her. He was staring at the box Mama was in. Runyararo watched as a single tear rolled down his cheek and landed on the dusty ground. He looked sad too.
She wanted to hold his hand and make him feel better but was worried that he would shake off her hand like Clemence had. So she turned to face the men who had been lowering Mama and watched as they threw soil on her box until it was completely covered and she couldn’t see Mama anymore. In that moment, standing between her crying brother and father and looking in front at her buried mother, Runyararo felt so alone and lost. So she cried too.
***
Runyararo, Clemence and their father left their mother’s kumusha a week later. They had stayed in Honde Valley after the funeral to spend time with their gogos, sekurus, tetes, share stories about Mama, and make themselves useful in the field and house. But now they needed to get back to their home in Chisipite. Their father was taking church tomorrow and both Clemence and Runyararo had school on Monday. So after saying their final goodbyes and promising to visit again soon, their father hurried Clemence and Runyararo into their Toyota sedan and had driven away.
The drive home was long and silent; the only sound in the car was the voices of the FM radio presenters. Runyararo stared out the window at the large rocks they passed, the tall yellow grass and the cows and people, wondering how long it would take to get home. She wasn’t entirely sure if she wanted to get home. It would be very different now that Mama wouldn’t be there. She wouldn’t have anyone to play with, Clemence wouldn’t want to play dolls with her, he would want to play outside and Deddi would be too busy doing other things like he usually was.
But before she knew it they were in Harare and then driving round the Chispite roundabout where the metal men sat and then passing Bon Marche where Mama would always buy her a Snicker chocolate, and then they were in front of the black gate to their house. Outside the sun was just beginning to set, and it was growing dark.
Their father broke the silence in the car and said ‘I have told Sisi Abigail to make sadza this evening. Clemence, I know you don’t like it. But you will it eat, wanzwa? I am not in the mood to fight with you.’ Clemence continued scowling at the window.
‘Clemence. Ndiri kutaura newe? wanzwa?’
‘Yes, Deddi.’
‘Good.’ As he took out the remote for the gate and pressed the button to open it, he added. ‘Also, tomorrow is Sunday. I know Mama is not here but we will have church as usual. Alright?’
Runyararo nodded and said ‘Yes,’ enthusiastically. She had always liked church, especially when everyone was singing. But Clemence’s response wasn’t as enthusiastic. He didn’t like church like she did. He always said that it was boring. He didn’t like sitting and sitting for an hour when he could be playing with his friend Eddie. He only muttered a reluctant ‘Alright,’ and then pushed the car door open and left the car.
His father shook his head in disappointment and then climbed out the car calling ‘Clemence! Dzoka pano. These bags need to be carried out the car.’ He turned to her, ‘Runyararo, let’s go,’ and then banged the door shut behind him, leaving her alone. Already she could sense that things were starting to change. Mama had always made everything happy and light. But now that she was gone, Runyararo felt that times weren’t going to be as happy. She wished Mama was here so that she wouldn’t feel so sad and lonely.
But then she remembered something that Mama had said to her ‘You are never alone, mwanangu. God is with you always, always.’ Mama had also said that all she had to do was pray to Him and He would help her. So she prayed. ‘Dear God, I’m feeling really sad right now because Mama is gone. Please help me be happy again. Also please take care of Cle-Cle, me and Deddi and helps us to be a happy family. Amen.’
As Runyararo finished praying, the sun set and darkness fell, thick and heavy. But she didn’t feel it because after her prayer she was at peace and inside her a light was glowing, a light that was beginning to grow and that would not stop growing. A light that would carry her through this current darkness and all the darkness to come.
Author’s Note
God is a loving God who cares for every single one of us, and has a plan for all our lives. But not everyone sees Him this way. Some people know God loves them; they actively seek and move toward Him knowing that doing so will be for their good (Jeremiah 29:11) and will lead to abundant life. (John 10:10) Some people don’t. They reject God completely, believing that their own way is better. Others willingly live in ignorance of God, seeking material and worldly success to find fulfillment, (Mark 4:18-19) but they have an intuitive knowledge of God which is strangled by a deep rooted fear preventing them from asking the important question – If God is real, what do I do about it?
This story follows the lives of three people who fall into the above categories; people who know of God but look and relate to Him in different ways, just as we all perceive and relate to God in different ways. But, our outlook doesn’t change who He is – God; living and very real. (Jeremiah 10:10)
This story is a humble effort to highlight all this and to show that God is always speaking, always moving and whether you see this or not does not depend on God, but on you; on where you are standing and where you are looking. But, if you change your position and outlook, if you set your heart, mind and soul right and diligently seek Him, you will realise that God, and indeed faith, is not far away and not that hard to find. (Jeremiah 29:13)
Matinatsashe Hove
