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Chapter 6 - Chapter 6: The Accident

Nyasha barely had time to breathe anymore. After that last meeting at NexSure — and after stubbornly rejecting the loan despite desperately needing it — she'd decided the only way out was to hustle harder.

She picked up extra shifts at the pharmacy. It wasn't glamorous, but it helped cover some basic needs. She had a target, and her father was counting on her.

Her mornings started early — 5:00 a.m. She would take a morning jog in the quiet streets of Mkoba and stretch a bit too. Afterwards she would do a bit of household cleaning, prepare her father's breakfast and meds when he wasn't at the hospital, then leave by 7:30 a.m. to catch a kombi to the pharmacy in town. Her shift started at 8:30 and ended at 1:00 p.m. on most days. From there, she'd rush to a nearby internet café or her friend Tariro's place in Lundi Park where the Wi-Fi was more stable.

That's when her second job began — online tutoring. Biology, Geography, Combined Science — she took students from different time zones, helping with homework, test prep, and sometimes just revising concepts. She had signed up on several platforms, including Preply and Cambly, and though the pay wasn't huge, every dollar counted.

Evenings were for her father. Administering his medications. Monitoring his blood sugar. Making sure he ate — and that he didn't lie about taking his pills. Around 9 p.m., when he was settled in bed, she would make a cup of tea and go over her tutoring schedule for the next day or update her lesson plans.

Her phone buzzed less and less with personal messages. Her two close friends, Shelly and Tariro, had started complaining.

"Girl, it's like you've disappeared," Shelly had texted one evening. By then it had been over two weeks since they had last seen each other.

Even Tariro complained.

"We barely even talk anymore," Tariro had said one day when Nyasha had come for the Wi-Fi at her house. "Even when you come here its like you are not even here."

"I'm trying to make ends meet, you know that, wani," Nyasha had replied.

Tariro had nodded. "I know things are tough but you need air too."

"I promise as soon as Baba is better you will get fed up with me."

Nyasha understood them. But her father's worsening condition made her feel like time was running out. The doctor had said a transplant would give him real hope. And that meant money. A lot of it.

So, she worked.

Saturdays were filled with tutoring hours. Sundays, church in the morning — she refused to let go of that. But even then, as the pastor preached, her mind often wandered to the quiet beeping machines at the hospital, or the growing spreadsheet of her expenses.

Her world had narrowed to two things: her father's health and the money she needed to save him. Everything else — fun, friends, even rest — could wait.

***

The kombi rattled along the Gweru-Bulawayo road, its suspension creaking with every pothole dodged—or hit. Nyasha sat squashed with a man in a grease-stained overall and a teenage girl humming to a loud TikTok song on her phone. Her small handbag sat on her lap, clutched tightly as if her dreams lived inside it.

She leaned her head against the window, watching the dusty landscape blur past. Her thoughts weren't on the road, or the impatient driver who kept swearing under his breath at the slow-moving traffic ahead. Her mind was with her father back home, his frail body barely responding to medication anymore. She had to find money soon and help him get the transplant soon.

She had found a part-time job that weekend at a private medical research facility in Bulawayo—cleaning, filing, running errands. It wasn't much, but it paid better than 3 hours of tutoring per day. It would help, even if just a little.

She was so lost in thought she didn't notice the moment the shouting began—until the driver cursed louder, slammed on the brakes, and people screamed.

***

He was late.

TK gripped the steering wheel of his black Range Rover tightly, his sunglasses reflecting the shimmer of the morning sun. The road was slow, congested, and frustratingly single-laned. He didn't care. He was Takudzwa Mukwa. When he drove, the road made way—or it got taught a lesson.

He had been in Bulawayo for the previous two days partying. His fun had been cut short by a call from his business advisor, Jabu. Now he was headed back to Gweru and was supposed to be in Harare that day for an emergency board meeting at one of his major logistics investments—Mukwa Freight & Cargo. One of the depot managers had been caught embezzling funds, and the audit team had found inconsistencies that could cost him a lot of money.

Time was money. So, when he saw a long line of trucks and kombis slowing down around a slight bend, he growled under his breath and swerved into the oncoming lane, accelerating hard to overtake them.

He didn't notice the oncoming kombi until it was too late.

***

The kombi's driver saw the speeding Range Rover just seconds before impact. He tried to swerve, but the road had no shoulder, only dry, crumbling dirt. The SUV's front corner clipped the kombi's side, sending it lurching violently. Screams tore through the air as metal crunched and glass shattered. The Range Rover skidded sideways, tires screeching, and slammed into a tree by the roadside.

Inside the kombi, Nyasha's head hit the window hard, her shoulder twisted unnaturally. Blood blurred her vision, and her ears rang as a blanket of darkness fell over her.

The Range Rover's airbags deployed. Takudzwa's chest burned from the force. Dazed, he unbuckled himself, coughing, tasting blood in his mouth. His head and chest hurt, and his right hand and leg felt like they weren't his.

People from nearby houses and stalled cars rushed to help. Some passengers had minor cuts and bruises. A few had broken bones. But it was Takudzwa and a young woman in the kombi who were most injured. He lost consciousness as he was carried to an ambulance before he could see the woman.

***

The sirens pierced the silence of the late afternoon as ambulances sped into the gated entrance of M&M Private Hospital and Surgery, Bulawayo Branch. Dust still clung to their shattered clothing. Blood-streaked bandages, twisted limbs, and unconscious faces—what had begun as just another day ended in trauma no one could have predicted. There was a high patient overflow and the medical staff were bumping heads trying to save lives.

Takudzwa and Nyasha, unknown to each other, were wheeled into the trauma unit, placed in the emergency ward. Their injuries, though serious, weren't life-threatening, but the hospital prioritized them for scans and monitoring. Both were unconscious, sedated, and cleaned up by the nurses before being stabilized.

Hours passed.

***

The room was dim, quiet except for the occasional beep of monitors and the distant hum of hospital life. It was early evening when TK's eyes fluttered open, pain stabbing through his ribs and neck. His throat felt like sandpaper. His right wrist was bandaged, and his head pounded with dull heat.

He winced and looked around slowly. White walls. Hospital. A shared ward. The antiseptic smell clung to everything. He remembered. He had had an accident. No. he had caused an accident. If anyone had died because of him…

Then he heard it—muffled sobs. Gentle, restrained, as if the person was trying to hide their pain.

He turned his head, groaning softly. A curtain separated his bed from the next. Curiosity, or maybe the eerie familiarity of the voice, tugged at him. Despite the pain, he slowly reached out, pulling the curtain back inch by inch.

His breath caught.

There she was—the girl from the Café, NexSure, Food Basket, lying on the single bed facing the ceiling, wrapped in bandages. Her shoulder was in a sling, a cut on her brow stitched, and one ankle propped up on pillows. Her head was turned slightly towards the window, but TK knew it was her.

It was really her, and she was crying—silently, brokenly.

TK froze.

What was she doing there. What happened to her?... Oh, wait. The accident! Was she in the kombi? Was she there because of him? Because of his recklessness? Oh, God.

She didn't notice him. Not yet.

And for the first time in a long while, he didn't know what to say.

TK stared for a moment longer, torn between guilt and surprise. She looked so small, so vulnerable, a stark contrast to the composed, fire-spitting woman he'd crossed paths with before. Her sobs echoed faintly through the room, and before he could stop himself, he whispered hoarsely, "Hey…"

She jerked her head up, startled, eyes red and wide—then froze when she saw him.

For a brief second, recognition flickered. Then fury.

"You?!" Her voice cracked, raw with emotion. "Of course, it's you."

He opened his mouth, but nothing came. Her anger rushed in before he could find the words.

"You arrogant, reckless—! Do you think the road is your playground too, just like everything else?" she snapped, her voice rising. "You nearly killed me! You could've killed everyone in that kombi!"

She was crying again now, but the tears only fueled her rage. She could feel words tumbling inside her as they fought to come out. She had a lot to say but couldn't express everything in words though she tried.

"My father… was waiting for me," she said, her voice shaking. "He needed me to come back with the money. I worked double shifts, gave up sleep, gave up everything. You think your big car means you own the road? You ruined everything!"

Takudzwa sat up straighter, silent. Her words hit hard.

"I shouldn't even be here!" she hissed. "I should've been at home—saving his life. But no. You had to speed through like you're in a Fast & Furious movie. Who the hell do you think you are?!"

Still, he said nothing.

She glared at him. "People like you… you don't care what you destroy. As long as you get what you want -as long as you get to where you're going."

Her voice cracked completely then, and she turned her head away, gripping the blanket with trembling fingers.

Takudzwa swallowed the knot in his throat. For once, he didn't feel like the alpha. He just felt… ashamed.

***

With time, Nyasha's sobs grew quieter but sharper, her voice hoarse from both emotion and pain.

"What am I going to do now, huh?" she spat through tears. "What will I do? You've ruined everything…"

Her voice cracked mid-sentence. "You've… you've taken everything from me."

Her breaths were ragged now, the anger in her breaking down into exhaustion. She tried to say more, but her eyes fluttered shut mid-sentence, her face still wet with tears as sleep overtook her like a defeated whisper.

Takudzwa stared at her in silence, unmoving. His jaw tightened. He'd never felt like this before—helpless. Useless. All the charm, the power, the parties… None of it mattered now. For the first time, he saw what his recklessness had done.

He turned slowly and reached for the call button. Within seconds, a nurse walked in quietly.

"Did anyone die?" he asked.

The nurse smiled. "Luckily, no," she said. "Most of the passenger suffered bruises, cuts and a few broken bones. Nothing vital."

"Thank God," Takue said and he meant it. He was having an internal conflict at the moment.

"You two, however," the nurse said gesturing at him and Nyasha. "You suffered more than the others and will have to stay here for a couple of weeks tops."

"What? I need to be in Harare as soon as yesterday -"

"Sorry, sir," she said. "Doctor's words."

"Damn."

"You should be grateful, sir," the nurse said. "The accident could have been fatal."

"You are right," he said. "Can I have my phone back please?"

"Sure."

He exchanged a few more words with the nurse asking about the other patients involved in the accident.

"And I need a full report on her condition," he said, voice low but firm. "Everything. No holding back."

The nurse nodded, startled by the seriousness in his tone.

As soon as she left, he picked up his phone and dialed.

"Jabu," he muttered when the line connected. "I need you to look into something for me and give me the information today."

The conversed for a minute or so as Takudzwa gave him the instructions.

"And Jabu…" he sighed, rubbing his face, "…I think I've messed up worse than I ever have before. Big time. "

***

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