Broken hearts born again

As he hastily packed his clothes into a big box he thought of his precarious situation. It was scandalous that a man of his stature was accused of such a filthy deed, something he sometimes talks against at life skills and health workshops organized for both teachers and learners.  But he seemed to be going nowhere with the task at hand; his clothes were many and there were still many books to fill many boxes. He sighed as he lay on the bed, trying to make up his mind what to do with all his belongings. Maybe give some away to the locals, he thought.

The teacher was a man of great honour and immense integrity, and was respected by this rural community where he was the head of the sports and the arts. The school was one of the only three local schools in the area. But now he was faced with a dilemma; he was supposed to leave the area within a few hours of being sacked from the school. So he wanted to leave the area as soon as he could.

The scenario flashed over and over in his mind like a record stuck and unable to continue playing. It was a nightmare that refused to go away, a scene that was hampering his thinking. Then, to take his mind off his troubles, he decided he needed a smoke so he decided to take a walk to the local store to buy some cigarettes. He was aware that being on the streets was going to excite the locals. He knew that there will stares and whispering as people discussed him but his body yearned for the nicotine.  He opened the door of his rented backyard cottage so slowly as not to disturb the neighbourhood and walked tentatively outside, his mind alert. He looked from side to side like a caged fugitive. No one stared at him and no one passed a snide remark.

Stepping onto the street he glanced ahead of him. There were a few people standing on either side of their fences, talking and laughing. He noticed that as soon as they saw him they suddenly spoke in hushed tones; their eyes wide open as they lowered their heads as if they did not want to cause some noise. But he wanted a few things from the store and he held his head high and walked forth.

He was not sure, but he could swear that he heard one of the women whom he believed hated and blamed him for her daughter's inability to progress any further at his school. She failed so many times until she quit school to have a baby with one of the rascals of the village. He stumbled forward as he strained his ears but managed only to kick a few stones loose. But the words were there, hanging in the air and audible in the still of the afternoon- he was not sure who was saying them in that group but the words-and the stares-impaled his heart. He looked at one of the women and he was sure she said, He is a dog. He did not hear her, but he was sure that was what he read on the woman’s lips.

I know, the woman said. He is a smelling wild dog. My daughter refused to sleep with him and she paid the price for her refusal. He failed her.

One of the other women echoed the same sentiment. He wanted me to sleep with him ever since he arrived here six years ago.

The former interjected, saying, He has caused so much mayhem in our little village. It is good that he has been shown the door at our school. Just imagine, raping a teenager when we are available. God knows why he didn’t ask us.

We refuse him, the other returned, laughing. Maybe he knows we don’t play around when it comes to money. We will break his bank balance, unlike the little girls who accept any pittance he gives them hey. Tell me, what really happened? I mean the rape?

She always cleaned his cottage and did his laundry now and then. That we know, of course. You know how it is; the girl’s family is so poor that they hardly have anything to eat at their house. So the family depended on his money for survival. But I am sure, away from our eyes and behind closed doors, she slept with him because she has no boyfriend and he, you know, has no girlfriend here and no wife back home. All these girls like men old enough to be their grand dads. Now she says he raped her. We have all heard that story before. The police just shrug their shoulders when they hear such stories and the education people just go through the motions when they should be investigating.  But how could we have allowed an unmarried teacher at our school where so many fertile, hungry girls roam around aimlessly?

And where so many naïve girls hopelessly dream for a distant future with no local role models to look up to?  

And some of these girls have no fathers to speak of.

And so many orphans hope to it will better tomorrow.

I think we looked too much into his impressive cv than in running the rule over his behavior. But how were we to know?

All men are dogs, they stink. How can you desire a teenager when you are already in your fifties?   She raised her eyes to look at him. Where is he going now?

Down the road stood aimlessly smoking their pipes and some, zols, their old, worn hats drawn in their faces. They looked at the sports teacher as he walked past.

Satan. He has turned our daughters into his personal condoms

Sies!  One of the men hissed and sneered. He must go back to the big city where these things are an everyday life. Just imagine, a sixteen year old.

The oldest shook his fist in the direction of the passing teacher, and, without addressing him directly, scoffed, Satan. We must just necklace him.

 One of the younger guys who were with them spoke for the first time. These girls can sometimes be naughty you know?

But the oldest retorted. Don’t blame the girls. They do nothing wrong. What does a child know? He asked? They think it is a way of life to be given money.

The young man returned. That girl knows hunger, you know it. And there is a lot of hunger here.  But the oldest glared at him. Oh, I see. The big city has tinted your thinking as well my boy. You see, this is not the big city where everyone goes around without morals. These kids respect us as their elders, but it is men from big cities who corrupt them. No, it is not the hunger and neglect that we must blame.

The young man asked, Did you ever go to her house to feed her and her siblings and buy them clothes?

 I cannot be seen going there lest I am accused of immorality.

 So you agree that the elders here do not care of their offspring…

The oldest man frowned. We need to do only one thing.  We need to hang him and impale him…the dog…

Just down the road the teacher met with the local pastor. The pastor, a much younger man, greeted the teacher with so much dignity in the glare of the locals who were standing in the narrow street, discussing the developments.

I know of what has befallen you Sir, the pastor offered.

Yes, I am sure you do. Everyone here knows. It is headlined on all their foreheads.

But we need to talk sir. I have spoken to the social worker and the lawman from our town….Can we meet in half an hour?

When he finished his shopping the teacher went to see his mechanic. He needed the car early the next day so he could drive back home and meet with education officials.

So you want to get away from this entire saga first thing in the morning? The mechanic asked. He went on.   I do not think that is the right thing to do right now. It will only fuel the fire into a wild runaway veld fire. 

What do you think is the rational thing to do then?

Stay put to confront whatever is thrown into your face. This is your doing so you wear it.  This is what I think you should do…You are a learned man and very dignified. I have always looked up to you and expected so much from you but you were always aloof and detached from this community… Now that I have my chance to put in my word, albeit so late, allow me to say it. I know for sure that you do not know who I am except that I am a mechanic. I am a mechanic but I was an instructor at one of the car manufacturers on the coast.  Then a woman who was as dump as the dodo screamed sexual harassment one afternoon when we were alone deep in the factory and, as always, the finger of fate pointed at me and, in the end, I had to walk, although I protested vehemently for my innocence. My wife took one look at me and gathered all hers stuff, our children's and our things she could lay her hands on and fled into the arms of another man in the nearby town. I took refuge down here to start a new life. And that was a relief. So I know and understand your predicament. I am not saying you are not guilty, but I understand the situation.

He paused to draw some air then went on.

So here is what I have been thinking. You and I should speak to the people in the government and the corporate world to empower the youth and the parents here. You see, most of the parents here are uneducated and naïve. Most of the women still expect men to provide for them and most of the men think women are their toys. Most of the rural government officials think people in the bundus are stupid and do not have the courage to ask questions and are afraid to protest. This of course is truly true, if you asked me. So we speak to these people and organize ourselves into a little organisation and confront the blasé situation.

Will they listen to us? The teacher asked .But you know, there is always money not used by government for youth activities…

Firstly, we identify facilitators, the early adopters, as they say in business. All these teenage girls who already have children and the unemployed youth will do as facilitators.

They are tainted, and so are we. Who will listen to them? To us?

The other half will. Those are the people who see the truth though all this dark shade. Even if we start with only a fraction of the community, that will do. Look at me, I have remained here since and the locals have forgotten about what happened on that damned shop floor. So they will forget about us.

Did you, you know, touch the woman deep in the factory on the shop floor?

We did the deed several times before but then she wanted a raise which, of course, stiffened my resolve as the raise was not immediate at the time.            

When the teacher arrived at the pastor’s he found that a crowd gathered. He did not expect anyone else except the social worker and the lawyer. He did not know how to react as he sauntered towards the pastor’s house but the crowd did not move towards him, so he relaxed.  Their arms were folded defensively and did nothing except stare at him. He also noticed that the women wore doeks on their heads and their arms were covered in a sign of respect as when women attend a religious ritual. The mood was quiet and sombre. He found the social worker already there. Once inside the teacher and the social worker learned what really happened. The principal was dead.  She committed suicide after she confronted the allegedly raped girl into opening a case against the hapless teacher. The girl, too, was dead. Under duress, she went home and hanged herself. Before that, she went to the police and wrote a letter addressed to the teacher. She also wrote a letter she gave to one of her trusted friends to read aloud in the event that I am not around to do so…

to the police,

to my friends

This is goodbye to the world and to you my friends. this is to tell the truth about the ongoing malicious stories doing the rounds about my filthy sex life, as it is called.I was not raped and never had sexual relations with the teacher. The teacher is actually the best man I have ever known in my life because he was my other father from another woman. He helped us a lot at home and do pray that he will continue to look after my brothers and sisters like they were his own children. he helps other children in the village as well.He is a good man the teacher. He taught me decorum and how to prepare for the world in the coming years. Sadly, the stories doing the rounds are too much for me, so I am ending my life. I die a virgin, I have never been tampered with, I am pure to the hilt! The teacher never even one day suggested anything filthy. He is a good man with a lot of dignity.The principal hates the teacher so she forced me to cry rape. She gave me pointers on what I should do when I am with the teacher so that he is enticed to sleep with me. She gave pornographic material to plant in his cottage. She has been rewarding me with money and food in the last four months or so. Now I am tired of this double life. I am going to God to live peacefully.     

Yours truly

When the principal heard about the girl’s damning letters she drew the gun on herself with so much force her brains, blood and skull were found strewn all over her school office.

Now what are you going to do? The pastor asked.

You, the mechanic and I are going to blow the winds of change and hope into this community in her honour. The girl’s, I mean.  I tell you, pastor, the promise of a new vision for this village is on the horizon.  A new dawn beckons where everyone will have value and work to toil hard for their bread and their future.  We are going to create a new vibe here…we are going to rip this village apart and sew it together man by man and woman by woman, each young person involved, until humanity exudes from the broken hearts of all mankind here...