February 14th before, February 14th after and February 14th now.
All seemed the same. It was on ‘February 14th now’ that he stepped out of Peter Singogo Correctional Facility. It had been his home for the past five years. He had served for his supposed sins that he had allegedly committed. He had called this place home but now he had to face the world that lay ahead of him. He was scared of what life would be like. Here it was great. The authority cared for him. He was assigned a number and was budgeted for. He had a place to sleep and was surrounded by people who really cared about him.
He was hopeful while he waited to be picked up. His hope slowly slipped away. He became more and more desperate. For the first time in his life, he was petrified. He hesitated to go forward but he needed to start his life on a new page. He felt stuck between, moving forward or going backwards.
When it became obvious that no one was going to come for him, he picked up whatever belonged to him and moved in the direction of the one place he still remembered. Home. His mind filled with blissful thoughts of February 14th before.
****
‘February 14th before,’ was a day filled with love. It was the day he wanted to show his loved one exactly how much she meant to him. He had gone out of his way to book a reservation at the most prestigious hotel in town, The Protea Hotel.
As the sun set, he had told her to wear the most elegant dress in her wardrobe. Love was in the air. The time was set for 18.00 hours. He was head over heels for the woman who was carrying his fruitage. She was well along in a motherly way.
“You look beautiful.” he complimented after her.
“Oh, thank you darling.” She replied.
“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on.”
“Really?”
“One hundred percent.”
“Have you ever been behind the wheel?” He asked when they got into the car he had just borrowed from a friend.
“No, I have not,” she responded, “how is it done?”
“Come I will show you how to drive.” He said as he ushered her into the driver’s seat.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” She asked.
“Don’t worry,” he reassured her, “driving is as easy as drinking water.”
After a few rocky attempts, she was driving on the road. It felt so amazing like a virgin touched for the very first time. She gained more confidence with each kilometre covered. She discovered the faster she went the more control she gained. She felt the adrenaline rush as she accelerated along Kabwe Road. She was in utter ecstasy, she climaxed. Similar to the rush one gets as they reach their climax. Blinded by ecstasy, she did not see that she strayed into the opposite lane and she didn’t hear the man screaming next to her.
After a loud bang everything went quiet. It was the longest thirty seconds of her entire life. She and the man next to her were uninjured, but the car facing them was covered in blood. Life quickly escaped. In dead silence the two love birds looked at each other in shock.
“Quickly come to the passenger’s seat!” he yelled at her.
“Why?” she questioned towards herself.
“It has to be interpreted that I was driving,” he said, “you don’t have a license and my son cannot be born in prison.”
“What have I done?” She cried at the top of her voice.
“Don’t cry,” he pleaded, “no one should ever know that you were driving.”
****
‘February 14th after,’ he stood in a packed court waiting for sentencing. They found him guilty of murdering three people due to dangerous driving. He was sentenced to five years in prison on all three counts. She wept as she looked at the father of her eight-month-old baby. She was grateful for his sacrifice. Men like him were rare in the world. Men who put their families first before their own selfish goals. She wondered how she was going to take care of the child once he was imprisoned. She has to start all over again on a fresh page.
****
‘February 14th now,’ he walked towards his freedom. His mind consumed by mixed feelings. How’s the child going to receive him? He wondered, but he was ready to start on a fresh page.
Everything seemed the same with a few improvements here and there. He walked over five kilometres heading to the place he once called home.
The house was still there.
He knocked once, twice, after three times a child answered the door. He stood there looking at his younger self. She was the spitting image of him. He could hear the voice of a woman screaming from the other side of the room.
“Taizya, what have told you about opening doors this late?”
It was the sweet voice of his beautiful woman. She swung the door wide open to face the demon of her so-called husband. Their eyes met. His eyes scanned her from her face and landed on her belly. She was in a motherly way. From behind her a man emerged who took his place beside her.
“What are you doing here?” She asked.
“I am home.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be in prison?”
“I was released today.”
“Oh.”
“I am home.” He said.
“This isn’t your home anymore,” she responded, “I moved on.”
“I went to prison for you my love.”
“That was your decision not mine,” she cut in, “you knew that I didn’t have a licence yet you allowed me to take the wheel.”
“But….”
She slammed the door in his face before any more words could escape his mouth. He tried knocking again but it was ignored.
Motionless, he just stood there.
—
Moses Tololo is a Zambian author, librarian and teacher. He has published three books on Amazon: The Price Tag, The Scepter and The Tree of Life.
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Read – Fresh Page Fresh Start – A Short Story by Asatu Jalloh – Liberia
