There I was. Stranded. I had walked for many miles on an unfamiliar dusty road with hope of reaching a particular land mark from which I would get a clue of where I was and where I was to go. Up above me was the scorching sun at about 32’c that practically got me terribly wet with sweat dripping all over my body. I looked down at my Safari Malachi footwear that seemingly fit me perfectly well though I certainly knew I wasn’t the owner for they were not within my kind of taste.They were very muddy despite the dusty road I had trudged. My brown khaki trousers too seemed so dirty as though they hadn’t seen any water for a fortnight. And my white-turned-brown stripped shirt looked so much like a rag used to clean a dog’s kennel for a period spanning over a decade. The brown tweed cashmere-like Jacket I wore on the contrary looked very clean though my armpits smelt as though I had spent a night in a truck full of Kigezi onions. This was utterly confusing. Up ahead was a stream, to which I ran and quickly dipped my face to wash off the sweat. I multitasked as I both drank away the water and washed my face. Across the stream was a heard of cattle that drank from the same stream with me. My reflection in the water got my eyes almost popping like two full moons in dire confusion. I had very long unkempt hair and wild beards.  I was baffled. I held my head with both my hands, closed my eyes and tried to recollect events that might have happened to me in the last couple of days or months but all in vain. I turned around, and five little naked seemingly starved children looked at me suspiciously whilst chanting a savagery language I couldn’t recognize. One of them picked a stone that he threw at me missing my right eye and hitting exactly the middle of my eye brows, thus digging deep in my flesh as I heavily bled away. A woman with only her bosoms and fundaments covered in thin cloth but with a bare chest exposing her pair of pointed breasts scorned my tormentors in the same savagery language to which they ran off laughing. I looked at her as she mentioned something to me as though to say sorry to which I returned a thankful wry smile only to earn myself a ridiculous grin and some weird smacks from her mouth as she hurriedly walked past me.  I reached out for a handkerchief that had lots of mucus, dipped it in the water and put it on my forehead to cover my wound. I decided to walk again though felt dizzy and very weak as if I had spent the previous night heavily drinking and fighting at a local bar.

I still could not recollect anything from my past. From afar, I could hear cars speeding off like racing themselves away on the tarmac. By intuition, I was certainly sure I was to find a safer haven once I got to that road. So I struggled harder to make quicker and wider steps. I reached crossroads, wondered which direction to take as I tried to trust my ears again waiting for the sound of a car to hit the tarmac again. A lady that looked quite familiar stared at me and called me by a name I perfectly recognized. She said, “Sam, is it you?” to which I answered in affirmative. I looked at her closely but couldn’t put a name to the face. She looked shabby, smelt of the sun, was very dark and had one eye. It was evident she had been shot in the eye probably by my same tormentors. She was the only person I met that day speaking a similar language and proficiently well. She was quite familiar with the geography of the place and offered to escort me to the tarmac road. As we spoke, she asked me about many people which quickly served the purpose of awakening my faint memory. After a while I realized she was my sister Charlotte. I was half happy for perfectly bumping into a long lost sibling but was bitter at life because she was in a deplorable state. As we got close to the tarmac, I saw many dilapidated buildings with bullet holes clearly spelling out I was in a war torn region. The people seated on verandas looked equally troubled. So we got to the road and stood there for a while trying to hitch hike every automotive. After a long time and almost giving up, a figure dancing above the ground and the mirage appeared that clearly gave me a notion it was a vehicle. I flashed a thumbs up signal to which the driver stopped. “Habari gani?” he said and I replied Mzuri.


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