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Authors: Stanley Ejingiri
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pretending to be asleep,” said one of the men who had been quiet all the while, causing the room to plunge into silence.
PaNene, the oldest and most respected man in the hut, recognized the voice of the speaker; it was one of his arch enemies. He also knew that the sudden silence in the room was an indirect invitation for him to join the conversation but he was determined to stay out of it. After all, they all knew that he was like a father to Jonah and to them it was only matter of time before he joined any conversation in which Jonah’s name was mentioned.
He also knew that the trick to the situation was all about knowing the right time to join the conversation and saying just the right thing. So he remained quiet and waited patiently for that time to come; until that time his mind was occupied with the thought of Jonah and Ashana. He prayed for their safety and prayed more, just in case the Almighty didn’t hear his last prayer. Ever since he let them into the tunnel, the debate in his head had not ceased nor subsided; he hadn’t stopped wondering if he had done the right thing. He hoped that the young couple was courageous enough to complete the journey. It wouldn’t be long before the escape was discovered and there was no doubt that the first person the Massa would be questioning would be him.
He feared the punishment he was more than likely to face but was determined to die rather than say a word acknowledging his awareness of the escape. He could live with any pain inflicted upon him and if he died from it, then the pain would be over but if he sold out Jonah and Ashana, he could not live with it and even in death he would be in pain.
“So why don’t we ask the boy's father; he should know–every father should know where their son is at,” Locua said, turning towards PaNene and speaking a little louder. “Isn’t it so PaNene?”
The old man shrugged and slowly sat up; maybe it was the right time to speak, so he opened his mouth. “If the boy and his girl have the guts at their age that you never had in all the years of your miserable life—years as many as the number of gray hairs on my head, then instead of speaking in the dark against them, you should be begging them to help you find where you buried yours.” The room exploded in the most humiliating laughter and mockery that Locua had ever experienced. Everybody knew that Locua was the most cowardly of the slaves—male or female. He would spill the beans without any hesitation, just to avoid a single lash of the Massa’s whip and people often shut their mouths whenever he approached.
Locua returned to his sleeping corner and lay down; listening to laughter and comments that were meant for his ears. He knew that if he stayed quiet long enough, they’d assume he had gone to sleep and the comments and laughter would eventually cease.
Chapter Fourteen
S he hadn’t slept all night, minutes had turned into hours and hours disappeared into eternity but she remained awake. She was half-hoping that soon the door would open and Ashana would be standing there with a changed heart. Marecia was aware of how stubborn love could be; how blind to reality and how deaf to reason, and she had prayed ceaselessly, hoping that her daughter would listen to her and see the opportunity presented to her on a platter of gold. She simply hoped that Ashana would weigh the opportunity against the risk of getting torn in pieces by animals as she tried to escape or of being recaptured and perhaps tortured to death.
Although her daughter had reasons to be suspicious of Nathan’s unusual confession of love, Marecia was yet to find any reason why the young handsome son of the Massa would put himself through such trouble if his intentions were not honest. In her entire years on the plantations, not once had she seen such a thing—sure there were rumours that Massas fell in love with slave girls but they were rumours, perhaps rumours with origins in a slave girl’s
PaNene, the oldest and most respected man in the hut, recognized the voice of the speaker; it was one of his arch enemies. He also knew that the sudden silence in the room was an indirect invitation for him to join the conversation but he was determined to stay out of it. After all, they all knew that he was like a father to Jonah and to them it was only matter of time before he joined any conversation in which Jonah’s name was mentioned.
He also knew that the trick to the situation was all about knowing the right time to join the conversation and saying just the right thing. So he remained quiet and waited patiently for that time to come; until that time his mind was occupied with the thought of Jonah and Ashana. He prayed for their safety and prayed more, just in case the Almighty didn’t hear his last prayer. Ever since he let them into the tunnel, the debate in his head had not ceased nor subsided; he hadn’t stopped wondering if he had done the right thing. He hoped that the young couple was courageous enough to complete the journey. It wouldn’t be long before the escape was discovered and there was no doubt that the first person the Massa would be questioning would be him.
He feared the punishment he was more than likely to face but was determined to die rather than say a word acknowledging his awareness of the escape. He could live with any pain inflicted upon him and if he died from it, then the pain would be over but if he sold out Jonah and Ashana, he could not live with it and even in death he would be in pain.
“So why don’t we ask the boy's father; he should know–every father should know where their son is at,” Locua said, turning towards PaNene and speaking a little louder. “Isn’t it so PaNene?”
The old man shrugged and slowly sat up; maybe it was the right time to speak, so he opened his mouth. “If the boy and his girl have the guts at their age that you never had in all the years of your miserable life—years as many as the number of gray hairs on my head, then instead of speaking in the dark against them, you should be begging them to help you find where you buried yours.” The room exploded in the most humiliating laughter and mockery that Locua had ever experienced. Everybody knew that Locua was the most cowardly of the slaves—male or female. He would spill the beans without any hesitation, just to avoid a single lash of the Massa’s whip and people often shut their mouths whenever he approached.
Locua returned to his sleeping corner and lay down; listening to laughter and comments that were meant for his ears. He knew that if he stayed quiet long enough, they’d assume he had gone to sleep and the comments and laughter would eventually cease.
Chapter Fourteen
S he hadn’t slept all night, minutes had turned into hours and hours disappeared into eternity but she remained awake. She was half-hoping that soon the door would open and Ashana would be standing there with a changed heart. Marecia was aware of how stubborn love could be; how blind to reality and how deaf to reason, and she had prayed ceaselessly, hoping that her daughter would listen to her and see the opportunity presented to her on a platter of gold. She simply hoped that Ashana would weigh the opportunity against the risk of getting torn in pieces by animals as she tried to escape or of being recaptured and perhaps tortured to death.
Although her daughter had reasons to be suspicious of Nathan’s unusual confession of love, Marecia was yet to find any reason why the young handsome son of the Massa would put himself through such trouble if his intentions were not honest. In her entire years on the plantations, not once had she seen such a thing—sure there were rumours that Massas fell in love with slave girls but they were rumours, perhaps rumours with origins in a slave girl’s
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