Chapter 1
She thought that if she cried, the pain would go away; that if she lay awake at night and thought everything through, she would understand the pain. She was wrong. She had never given much thought to what a broken life and a broken heart would be like; how it would look like.
It was Wednesday. An old scrap bus was slowly packing with individuals from the city, finally paying a visit to their respective villages, either to see their loved ones or the homes they hardly lived in. The seats were a pale green and no longer their intended colour. Could it have been a darker shade of green or even sea green? The buses to her village were usually old and beaten down. It would be somewhat of a miracle if it made it to their destination without a breakdown. There was very little traffic at the bus rank because it was right in the middle of the month, and most people were at work during that time of day.
Lorato had taken a seat next to a window so that she could be close to some air when the bus started building up with smoke from the exhaust. She could not stop thinking about the past month and what she had encountered, and it hurt. The bus was noisy from people who were advertising the goods they sold in the bus rank. Everything from food, to magazines and newspapers. Lorato did not notice them as she was preoccupied in her thoughts. One man forced his fried chicken and chips in her view because she was not paying attention to him. She was not interested. The smell even petrified her senses. Food was not her favourite pastime at the moment.
The city was maturing very quickly. Lorato had just celebrated her nineteenth birthday when she arrived with her soon to be husband in the late 1990's. All she could think about was how great their wonderful new beginning would turn out. She had known Tebogo for most of her life from the little village of Meropeng, where they both grew up.
"We made it," he had said to her as they watched the bus they came in driving away to the farther side of the bus station.
"Yes, we made it. I'm so happy that I get to be with you finally," she smiled at him.
An old man sat next to Lorato in the bus. She turned her head to face the window, mostly because she did not want anyone to see her tears when she started to cry. She could not control them- they just flowed without warning, without hesitation. Lorato thought about her parents and how they were going to react after so many years, a decade. Her father would probably not accept her back. She pictured the surprised look on her mother's aged face, how she was so afraid of her husband she would agree to turn her daughter away even though deep inside her heart she wanted to hold her child in her arms again and never let go. Lorato let out a deep sigh as the bus was taking off.
She was returning to Meropeng, a little isolated village next to Serowe, what seemed to be the largest urbanised village in Botswana. The bus would drop her off in Serowe and she would catch a minibus to Meropeng.
Meropeng was a very tiny village with a population of no more than four hundred. The village was surrounded almost completely by a hill, almost like a basin with an entrance, or a stadium. The hill stood tall, protecting its people from the outside evil, which is how all the elders viewed it. No one really believed that a place like Meropeng existed until they actually came to see it themselves; a place with only one way in and one way out, in literal terms, unless one went over the hill, which was not possible. No one had ever been over the hill, just around it. This is because an old myth proclaimed the hill was cursed. As much as the people saw it as a protector against enemies, anyone who went over the hill could never find their way back- that is what the villagers knew and told their children and grandchildren and so on. Even so, no one had ever witnessed such an occurance. No one had real proof as to whether it was true, everyone just sort of obeyed the set rules. The sunset always was early and dawn was late because of the hill, but the villagers were used to it.
Lorato wiped a tear carefully from her cheek. She pulled with it make up she coloured her face with every morning. All the women in the city who were young and vibrant wore make-up, she was almost 29 years old. After an almost 4 hour trip, the bus finally stopped in the village of Serowe. It was almost 5 in the afternoon and the bus rank in Serowe was slowly losing population. This was normal as people really did not travel in the evening all that much and there was no business for the street hawkers as well. Lorato stepped out of the bus and waited under a shed for the minibus to Meropeng. She had a lot of luggage, mostly containing gifts for her parents. If they accepted her back, then she would go back to the city to get the rest of her things.
A soft evening breeze wafted by and even though it was getting dark, the hot summer air was still circulating, and the rays from the setting sun still pierced the skin.
"Excuse me, I'm headed for Meropeng village, do you need a ride?" asked an old man.
His voice startled Lorato, pulling her away from thoughts that had sheltered her state of mind for hours.
Lorato had been waiting for almost an hour for the minibus. "H-how did you know I was going to Meropeng?" She finally replied.
"My car is almost here to pick me up. I am headed there myself, would you like a ride?" he paused, giving her a rather concerned look. "I mean the minibus you are waiting for has retired for the day because it's too old to work nights on the dusty gravel road." His body was covered under an oversized brown jacket that stopped below his knees. The blue beanie he had on, made it appear as if he had a broad but pointy nose.
A red Ford Fiesta parked at the almost deserted bus stop soon after the old man stopped talking. The boot swung open, and he threw his bags in. He looked up at Lorato with his offering eyes, and she reluctantly made her way to the boot herself to throw in her luggage. Lorato hopped into the back seat after greeting the driver. She witnessed a reunion of the old man with a much younger man in the driver's seat. She assumed him to be his grandson or some relative because he had the same pointy nose. She listened to her mind speaking to itself, kind of like the same way she did the whole trip from the city to Serowe after the car went off, half hoping that she had not just accepted a ride from serial killers.
"So I was sitting next to you in the bus from the city and not once did you look away from the window, if you don't mind me asking, is everything alright young lady?" the old man asked after turning his attention from his conversation with the driver.
Lorato looked up and faced the front. She did not want to be rude to the kind old man,
"Nothing really, I just have a lot on my mind," she replied. Her voice was hoarse and she quickly cleared her throat.
"This is my son," the old man said pointing at the driver.
Lorato did not really feel like making any conversation despite what the old man had done, but she appreciated the fact that he diverted the conversation to introductions instead of her personal life.
"Hello again," the son said to Lorato looking at her using his rare view mirror. He had the most peculiar tiny looking eyes.
She caught the driver's eyes and quickly looked away. "Hi," she said in a much clearer voice.
"You my dear, you must be Rapelang's daughter," said the old man.
Lorato's eyes grew wide open, she had no idea who this old man was, but he knew where she was going and who she was.
"H-how did you know my father's name?"
"I can tell, you have his nose, and those brown eyes- you are the spitting image of your father. It's not hard to tell my dear."
"Well yes, you're quite right. I'm Lorato by the way."
"I know who you are Lorato. So, you finally decided to go home, I'm sure everyone will be happy to see you."
Lorato did not reply because what the old man had just said brought her anxiety back. Her nerves were so jumbled up that she felt as if her stomach was hollow inside. She just looked away and had felt guilty for sitting next to the old man without at least saying something to him the whole way to Serowe. She had not noticed how the creases on his face intensified when he exposed his gap-toothed smile, or the moles on his face. She sat next to a stranger who had in turn helped her out with getting home to her parents.
Lorato did not want to listen in on the conversation the old man was having with his son. Besides, she would not know what they were talking about. Even if she did and they were talking about politics, for example, she did not feel like participating. Talking kind of depleted her energy, and it hurt. She decided to wait it out patiently, the 40 minute ride to Meropeng.
It was very dark when the Ford finally entered the little village, zooming in to her destination. It was also quiet, and the only thing that could be heard was the car tyres rubbing against the gravel stones on the road. It then finally hit Lorato that she was just minutes away from seeing her estranged family for the first time in almost ten years. She started to shake, as if there was a slight chill in the car. She was on one hand nervous and on the other, excited to be home in a way. It was going to be hard for her to show her parents that they were right and she should not have left with her husband in the first place. Lorato hated admitting she was wrong because she was stubborn and believed that she was always right. She got that from her father, and she was almost sure he would probably send her back. He would think he was right to keep on pretending she never existed. Lorato had heard rumours after she ran away that her father had disowned her as his daughter. It hurt, but she was too much in love to care.
The old man and his son finally dropped Lorato off at her house. It was then that she realised how dark it had really gotten, the hill was really hovering over the village. She swallowed hard and her muscles hardened as she approached the front door. She felt her nerves churning up her stomach again, creating an even darker hole. She had missed walking up to the front door of her house and how the whole place made her feel safe, like a home should. She had missed the whole atmosphere of never walking in fear because she was home. She had missed seeing her mother smile every time she returned home from school with her older sister. Her heart beat increased even more, making her sweat a little. She dropped her little black travel bag on the floor on the front porch and glared at the bright light coming from a bulb. She left the little village before electricity was introduced. It was surprising to see her house with lights just like in the city. Lorato unconsciously raised her fist and knocked gently on the door. The knock bounced her thoughts back from electricity, to reality. There was no answer. She knocked again, this time harder.
"Who is it?" screamed a female voice in the house. It was her mother, Gloria. She could still recognise her deep mellow voice after all these years. The sound of something familiar almost knocked her already fragile body down to its knees. Lorato did not answer to her mother's voice. Instead she gave her knock another try. Suddenly there were footsteps which got louder every second, cohering with her thumping heart.
"Who is it, I said?" her mother opened the door aggressively.
Lorato clenched her fists tightly by her side and waited a moment for her mother to react.
"Hello, ma," she finally said, shakily. She figured her mother was speechless judging by the look in her eyes. It was as if she had seen ghost. But maybe Lorato was a ghost.
"Uhm, come in," her mother said, her eyes growing even wider. She used her hand to sign Lorato to enter.