"Can you hear those sounds? asked the German."
"Which sounds?" Responded Wilhem.
"Pawisik, whisperings. It is not exactly thunder, is it?" He asked.
*Tell him to stop tormenting the dead* The voice ordered.
*Stop being so nice to this bloody white Wilhem, the ancestral victim demanded.
"Meneer jy sal die dood moet begin uit los, gee my goed asbelief." (Mister, you are going to have to start respecting the dead; please hand me my goods.)
Wilhem grabbed his plastic bag and rushed to the vehicle. He looked spooked.
"What's wrong, Ouboet? Did the old man also show you a colonial time?"
"Worse, this gift is a curse. The dead just spoke to me. We need to get out of here now." He said this as he flipped the bottle of distilled water through the canopy window.
"Shuu hectic Ouboet, but how?"
Wondering why his forefathers had chosen to visit him, he got into the automobile. Was he suddenly forgetting who he was and what his culture was? Anyhow, whatever it was, his top goal was getting Jasmine, Nasim, and now Debbie to safety.
He was concerned that Deborah's presence might have had an impact on the ancestral visit. After all, the spiritual world is a place without boundaries. The sky got clearer the more he drove away. We fought principalities and other malevolent, dark forces rather than flesh and blood. These were the realms of the seen and unseen. A guy is what he thinks, after all. Were the voices in Wilhem's head nothing more than his own thoughts? Consequently, he developed the ability to project what his ancestors' messages might have been to him. Alternatively, is it possible that these 20 Nama and Herereo skulls that were sent to Germany following the mass murders in 1904 and 1908 were required to return home to find rest? Their souls would roam around until such a time came that they were laid to rest.
Wilhelm placed the Capri Suns on the dashboard. He accelerated his speed, bolting through traffic lights right into the Central Business District. Heran into a red traffic light.
"Stop Daddy! The traffic light is red!" Jasmine said as she arose.
She woke Nasim, who was startled and began to ask questions about the statue across the road that overlooked them.
"Wow. Who is that daddy?"
"That is a statue of a man named Curt Von Francios. As you can see, he is wearing a German military uniform. We consider it an abomination and suggest it be removed as it celebrates the colonial atrocities against Namibians."
Deborah was listening in on Wilhem dropping knowledge bombs on his five-year-old daughters.
"In 1889, Von Francios led a group of German colonial troops; he built a fort in Windhoek the following year, 1890. Which in turn earned him the title 'Founder of Windhoek.' Although in reality, Jan Jonker had established a settlement in Klien Windhoek by 1840."
"Woah, so they robbed this guy, Jan Jonker, of his idea?" Nasim asked.
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Mangled Shoes
General FictionMangled shoes is a mainstream fictional book. Choices, Chances, Changes. ✨😊