MY HERO #1
By: Blessing Njodzi
Tags: Zimbabwe, Writing, Reading, Short Story, Fatherhood

Photo done by my beautiful mom.

My Hero is a short series of stories that are built on real life. They are based on shared experiences of my father and I.

Cars raced up and down the A3 highway. My father stood beside me, a wee taller than me. We in turn stood beside a bus stop.

Up high, the sky was blue just above us yet grey in the distance. The grey was moving, spreading, trying to cover as much distance as possible in its bid to dominate the sky. It whispered to me so.

Out of nowhere, “Be a bit more patient, Bibi,” dad said, “A car will definitely come and we will soon be in Odzi.”

“Alright,” I replied, legs weak and face grim.

“Iwe! Straighten up, don’t give me that face!” he shouted. So, in response, I straightened up and put it in an expression between a smile and a sad face. I had reason to be so though since we had been waiting for a good hour with no hope or glimpse of possible transportation. My dad was a tough man, military-like (with the bald head too) and so discipline was part of me, endurance and the list went on. I also turned out fine, at least I hope, to his satisfaction.

A breeze came over the area and it seemed to drag along with it, a big blue Toyota Hilux. It stopped at the bus stop area and my dad approached the man at the driver’s seat. He was asking whether they were commuting to Odzi most probably and after a few seconds, I saw him gesturing I come closer.

“Let’s get in the back,” my dad told me.

“Okay dad.”

So, we both went in and sat in the back on the squeaky leather seats. We put on our seat belts and took off. On such journeys, I usually liked to look out of the window. This was the only time I got to see cattle, goats, road-runner chickens and the like besides the textbook or on TV. It absolutely fascinated me and I could attribute it to my love of my animals. I used to watch either the National Geographic or Animal Planet channel with my dad when he came back from work. On some occasions, we started as early as five pm and on other days around seven before the news at eight which we were all forced to watch. Exactly at nine pm, I had to go to sleep, a household rule. They never told me the reason why and now as I do medicine, I understand that a child requires lots of sleep if he is to develop in a normal manner. I only got a pass to sleep later if there was a movie we (with my parents) were watching or there was a specific show at a certain time I really wanted to watch (animal-related, of course), which was once in a blue moon though. The cane is quite common in African countries and so you are scared to do certain things like stay up late when your parents told you not to, unlike Europe, where I think parents are more liberal and so results in lesser discipline.

We didn’t talk much during the trip because my attention was all outside and whenever I had a question about the name of a particular animal or landscape, I would ask. Mostly I would sleep, as I was to discover later on that I had hypersomnia. We arrived at Odzi riverside in no time. We dropped off near a vegetable market and we grabbed a few tomatoes and onions, along with some pork from the butcher’s.

After that, we started the long but fun walk towards the farm. Firstly, we crossed the A3 highway to get to the side on which my dad’s farm was located.

“How long is it going to take to get there?” I asked my dad.

“Roughly forty minutes, we will be there in no time,” he replied.

So, we started. My father was a bit younger then and so he walked with vibrancy but always tried to walk at my pace. I was small and short, not yet taller than my dad, so you can only imagine how many steps I needed to equal one of his. We passed through several farms and when I didn’t know the crop there, I would ask.

“What is that crop, dad?”

He would tell me the name in Shona (my vernacular) and at this point, I would be lost because I wouldn’t know the English name and would be shy to ask. I felt I asked too many questions and the last thing I wanted to do was annoy him with my array of questions. Now, after walking for a while, we rested. We sat by a short pillar, marking the existence of a bridge a few metres later. He would let me sit and he would stand.

“Are you tired?” he would ask.

“Mbijana (A little bit),” I would reply. This was of course was a lie. I was rather exhausted, a more appropriate term. He would give me some food, perhaps a fizzy drink which wouldn’t be as cold because of the heat and a piece of pastry. I don’t remember if he ate or not but all I knew was that this man could walk for miles on end without breaks if given the opportunity. Sometimes, I used to feel I weighed him down during the walks but now I understand he was just being a father and being considerate was part of the job. After resting for a good ten minutes I think, we started off again. I was never taught to complain so I tried to match his pace always and when he asked me if he should slow down, I would say, “No, I’m good dad.” After a good amount of time, we were almost there. An inclination in the slope had me panting in the last few metres so we moved slowly. I really can’t remember the time the farm didn’t have a road or fence but if I am to make a memory of it, it was just a small hut, a place for washing dishes, a small farming area and just forest elsewhere.

We arrived and got in the hut, rested, rehydrated and my dad made his usual rounds. I also don’t remember what he would do during the rounds but what I do know is looked forward to Saturday so that I could walk that distance all over again as tiresome as it was. Towards mid-evening, if ever there is such a thing, we would start walking back to the place we got off on the highway. I would be scared of the darkness but with my dad on the side I wouldn’t and in the case of anything, he carried a torch. I also adopted the habit of carrying one too, whether I am at boarding school or in the city at home.

I would get home, very exhausted, eat the food my mother had prepared, tell her about the animals I saw and how we walked and I would sleep, the most delighted boy in the world.