When you’re not fighting for your life, it is always good to sit down and appreciate the simple pleasures you’ve been handed. One doesn’t know when everything might just, cease.

“Lwiindi, I hear my brother has returned,” said Moomba, throwing a ntongo in his mouth.

“Yes, he’s back,” answered Lwiindi, his third wife.

Moomba was eating supper in his first wife’s house while sitting on a stool made of dry goat skin, of the three wives he had taken he loved her cooking the most. 

His first wife, Choolwe, was not the type to win any beauty contest, she looked very frail and thin. She bore him his first and only son, she sat across him while Nkanga and Lwiindi sat facing his back.

“How many men did he lose?”

Choolwe had prepared roasted dry fish and nshima cooked with cassava meal, she was the only one who cooked the cassava meal the way he liked it.

“He returned with only six men and two died when they reached the village, I am surprised he even returned home at all.” Answered Lwiindi, adding her own opinion.

“My brother may only know how to use brute force to get things done but he is a good soldier, I am not surprised that he won.”

When called to battle, Shimunenga would never turn down the chance. War was what he lived for. While others became soldiers as a way to provide for their families or because they were forced into war, it was a way of life for him.

“I must say, though, he fought an army of one hundred and fifty with only fifty men, what type of luck does your brother have?”

“Luck? Luck had nothing to do with it. Hard work and discipline paid off.”

“Still, I mean, I thought we were the only ones who could do something like this, isn’t that right Nkanga?”

“I am also impressed, but I expected nothing less from the brother of Bashi Insuku,” answered Nkanga.

Nkanga and Lwiindi sat side by side in the dimly lit room. Choolwe sat silently with a warm smile on a reed mat with her legs straight, listening to the three of them talk. Nkanga and Lwiindi sat with their legs folded.

“B-But, you know—” started Lwiindi when Moomba interrupted her.

“Call Insuku.”

Choolwe started to stand when Moomba stopped her.

“Choolwe, Nkanga can get him, you don’t have to.”

“You worry even about the little things father of my son, let me get him.” Said Choolwe, her voice was very soft but firm.

Choolwe left to get the boy. The moment she walked out the door, the entire room turned ice cold, like she had carried all the warmth with her, all the smiles the three people wore when she was in the room vanished.

“Nkanga, do our walls have ears?” Asked Moomba.

“I made sure the walls are deaf, you should have heard their screams when their spirits were about to leave their bodies, the color of their blood, it looked so red and that smell, I just love the smell of blood,” she said this with a sadistic look on her face.

“Lwiindi, what have you learnt?” Moomba asked, ignoring Nkanga’s passionate runts about blood and murder.

“Forgive me, I’ve learnt nothing,” answered Lwiindi with a straight face.

“What do you mean you’ve learnt nothing, in all that time? Do you have any idea—”

“Worry not Nkanga, Lwiindi learning nothing explains a lot, am I wrong?”

“No you are correct. So, the thing is, when I said I learnt nothing, I mean I didn’t find a single thing about this man, the only thing I know is where he lives and what his name is. No one even seems to know how long Budima has been the headman and no one knows who was the headman before him. It’s almost like, he’s always been there and yet, he was never there.” Explained Lwiindi.

“And Wesele?” Asked Moomba.

“Mmh about that one. He has a history, I know he’s the son of Elder Shakumbila, he’s been attending to Budima for I don’t know how long. Honestly it’s like any details about Budima are just a blank.”

“They are here,” said Nkanga.

In a few moments, they heard footsteps and before long, Choolwe walked into the house with a sleepy boy in her hand.

“Insuku, my boy!” Moomba was delighted to see the boy, he wore big smile that failed to reach his soulless eyes.

It was late and the boy had just been woken up from his sleep. When he walked in, clutching his mother’s hand, his eyes were drowsy but upon seeing his father, his heart began to race, fear, anxiety, feeling like he had to force air into his lungs, all this forced any little sleep out of the boy’s eyes.

“Come sit with me, here I have some fish for you.”

Moomba was never happier than when he was with his son. A notable feature about the boy was his height, he was too tall for his age. He was on the slender side. The boy followed his father’s instructions and sat beside him. Moomba handed the boy some fish.

“How is the work tending the cows?”

“I-It’s fine,” the boy answered shyly, unable to look his father in the eye. The boy instead looked at his mother as if asking her for help on what he should say.

“That is good my boy. Here, eat the fish. Your mother cooked it.”

The boy hesitantly put the fish in his mouth. He ate it slowly in his father’s imposing presence, making it difficult to chew and nearly impossible to swallow, but he forced himself to do it.

The few grey hairs on Moomba’s head and beard were showing that he would soon be entering his early fifties, he had one child he spoiled like a grandchild.

“I hear you can count now, so how many cows have you counted?”

“Uh-um, I think...” mumbled the boy, with his gaze on the ground.

“Insuku, you’re a boy, not a girl. Speak up!” Moomba was only trying to be encouraging but his voice sent the boy into a panic.

“N-nine!”

That wasn’t even close to the true number. The boy was very young so he must just remember a random number he might have heard from the workers.

“That is a good number. When you are ten rain seasons I shall give you two cows.”

The number of cows one had determined how wealthy one was. Some people as a sign of wealth would cut out their two front teeth. Moomba had more cows and land than most people in the village but he did not remove his front teeth.

“T-thank you, f-f-father,” said the young boy, struggling to voice his thoughts, somehow saying father was much harder for him.

“I see you have finished your fish. Good. Now go sleep. Tomorrow early in the morning go tell your father Shimunenga to come here.”

His wife, Choolwe, watched with a smile as the two had their awkward conversation. Her son quickly ran out of the hut as if his life depended on it. Unfortunately for Moomba, this was how any child in the village behaved around him.

“My husband, you spend so much time looking after our farm, and when you are not at the farm you are busy with the war no one knows about, your child sometimes goes days without seeing you.”

“That is true, but if I do not do that we will all die of hunger. I need to make haste with my plans. I still haven’t found that broken god and the other one,” he said giving her a cold look.

“I understand, but why not give Insuku a younger sister or brother?” Said Choolwe.

“Just giving me Insuku almost put you on the brink of death, I cannot do that again.”

For as long as Moomba knew Choolwe, she’d always been weak and frail. Matters only got worse when she became pregnant. She almost died when giving birth.

“Well I understand that, but I’m not the only wife you have father of my son. You have Nkanga and Lwiindi.”

“Mmh, would you two like to have children?” Moomba turned to face Nkanga and Lwiindi.

“W-w-what are you asking of me, I-I mean—” Lwiindi was completely flustered, the mere suggestion of her having a child caught her off guard.

“If that is what you want Bashi Insuku, then, maybe, I mean if you want-”

“See?” Started Choolwe, “they are women. It does not matter who they were or what they went through, they are still women, who are now ready to be mothers.” She continued.

“Very well.” Moomba nodded in agreement.

“Y-y-you don’t m-mean right now…” Said Lwiindi crossing her arms as if to hide her chest from him.

“Not right now. Let us take care of a few things first. Once we leave this place, there will be no battles left to fight and the two of you could raise children in peace.” Explained Moomba.

“Oh…” Lwiindi sounded a little disappointed.

Once he was done with his meal, Moomba got out of the house to take in some fresh air before retiring to bed. He felt the cold thin air make his skin hairs stand giving him goosebumps, idly watching the stars twinkle in the night sky.

Choolwe joined him and the two stood in silence for a while, just admiring the beautiful stars. It was too dark for them to see much of anything else. The peach dark sky of a moonless night.

“It is nearly complete, I wish you could see it. It looks beautiful, the fields, the houses. I cannot wait to take you there,” Moomba said, breaking the ice.

“You don’t need to rush, you can just take your time and we’ll get there when we get there,” Choowle replied.

“You may have patience Choolwe, but I do not. I want to see Insuku grow up in a land he can call his own.”

There was another long pause before the two of them spoke, just existing beside one another until they heard Nkanga and Lwiindi leaving Choolwe’s house.

“I think I’m going,” Lwiindi yawned with her eyes closed, “to sleep now. I’m just so tired.”

“You’re so lazy!” Exclaimed Nkanga.

“Now, now, don’t be too hard on her,” said Choolwe, “why don’t you both rest now, I’m sure you’ve had a long day.”

Nkanga left, dragging a barely awake Lwiindi with her. Nkanga and Lwiindi shared a house together. Choolwe had her own house and so did Moomba but he insisted on sleeping in Choolwe’s house every night.

In Moomba’s compound there was another house for children, that was where his son, Insuku, slept.

Now that Lwiindi and Nkanga were out of sight, Choolwe spoke up, “I’m worried about Shimunenga, something is going to happen to change his way of life.”

Shimunenga had found himself in a fair share of trouble time and time again, that was not the first he’d done something like that. The extent of the problem wasn’t known but all one could hope for was a slap on the wrist.

Moomba turned his eyes to a tree in the darkness at the edge of his compound.

“It is time for you to rest, I will deal with the matter of Shimunenga when the time comes,” he said without turning to face Choolwe, “Go. I will join you soon.”

“But- okay,” Choolwe wanted to say something else but she stopped herself. She followed Moomba’s words and went into her house.

Now that she was out of sight, Moomba took a few steps towards the tree that had caught his interest. When he was close to it, someone stepped out from behind it.

“Dinkila,” said Moomba.

“Ba Moomba, I have a message from Handavu,” said the man who’d appeared from behind the tree, it was too dark to make out any of the man’s features.

“I trust Handavu is in good health.” Asked Moomba.

“Yes, he is well. He returned from his journey not too long ago and told me to report to you. He said he managed to deliver the two cows and that the land is ready for you.” Explained Dinkila.

“I understand. Greet your family for me,” After saying that, Moomba turned to leave.

Just after his conversation with the man, someone showed up seemingly out of nowhere with a spear dripping with blood. She wore a sadistic smile as she approached him.

“How many were they?” He asked.

“I found two.” She answered.

“Both dead?” He asked, just to make sure that there were no witnesses.

“Yes, Bashi Insuku. Both are dead and their bodies are where no one can find them.”

A dead body being found by the villagers would surely bring unrest and unnecessary suspicions. People would panic that there are killers among them.

“And you are sure there were only two?”

“Yes, while I was disposing of the two, Lwiindi was carrying out a wide search just to be sure. She told me that there was no one around. She went back around just make sure the two didn’t come with anyone.”

“Alright Nkanga. Handavu’s son was here, see to it that he returns home without eyes watching him, he was careless not noticing the two men following him.”

With those words, Nkanga disappeared as quickly as she had appeared.