Swahili and Somali legends come to life in this tale of secrets, betrayal and a household pet or two with a desire for human flesh.
In the Malifedha family, the secrets that don't break them make their bond stronger; which is just as well because th...
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In all her twenty years of education, Istahil never thought she'd find herself here. No, not with a new discovery under her belt and grateful cheers adorning her ears, but here. In her lecture hall. With a cat the size of a building bounding around and her Maalim in a dead faint on the floor.
Someone screamed, and the cat went crazy. Maybe because with its huge size, everyone in their gadbasars, macawises and diracs looked like colourful birds waiting to be eaten.
Istahil tore a university flag from the side of the podium, tied it into a loop and threw it around the cat's neck. 'I've got it, I've got it,' she shouted out, 'haye, calm down, alright? Calm...'
A girl ran towards the door. The wind took her clothes, fluttering them up like wings. A hot pink gadbasar wrapped around her head, and a Dirac with roses flowing down her frame.
The cat licked its chomps and pounced. Istahil's makeshift leash became a makeshift deathtrap. 'Run,' she screamed to the girl, who dove out of the way.
Thank God that stupid feline had the attention span of a caffeinated rat. The wind filtered through the thick, woven mat that served as the door to the lecture hall. The cat sniffed it and ran, pulling Istahil along in a shrieking arc.
The department of Miscellaneous sciences stood at the back of the large aqal. It was a testament to the architects that a large cat and a screaming girl burst through the woven mat that acted as a door to the lecture hall (to screams). Bounded along a building with frames made of sticks holding up more woven mats (to more screams). Burst into the large compound housing the duksi's numerous aqals (to a stampede), and the aqal still stayed strong.
Bells clanged as she and the cat burst through the duksi's gates. People moving between each other's aqals with pots of food, presents and gossip screamed and rushed into their homes. The cat bounded through the emptying road, scattering the occasional group of cows. Clouds of dust burst in its wake.
The official Matatus of the Order Keepers trailed from the sky on their cloudy paths. Warning colours flashed through them. An Order Keeper's voice crackled through an amplifier. 'Stop right there! Do you know how big that pet is?'
'It's not a pet,' Istahil screamed back.
The Order Keeper's matatu hovered close to the cat's face. It sneezed. The matatu shot backwards. The cloudy trails of its road went haywire. Inside, its occupant screamed bloody murder.
A sob built up in Istahil's throat. When this cat stopped running, she'd have a lot of questions to answer. If Hoyo didn't kill her first.
She stirred it away from the market. People running around into their houses meant nothing. But if this cat reached the market, with all its chaos and the possibility of ruining someone's business forever, then giant or not, she'd slaughter it.
It leapt above one last complex of low-roofed, dome-like homes and landed onto the main road. In a matter of seconds, it had left the homestead behind. Dusty houses faded into desert shrubbery. The cat crashed through them, yowling when their thorns scratched at it, before stopping at a lone baobab tree.
