ROAD TO DAMBOLAMADZI- Muyange Nsefu

CHAPTER EIGHT.

Silence used to be an absolute.

That was something Wezi definitely missed.

Back in the real world, it would stand as self-evident that a group of people saying absolutely nothing, by definition, could not be saying any less. Maybe things were different on the road to Dambolamadzi, maybe Wezi had just never encountered it before, but it was clear to her now there are degrees beyond silence. A pervasive realm of deafening quiet which, following the loss of Veronica Phiri and King, their group had unreservedly embraced. Constructed out of their collective trauma, cemented with a cruel mixture of grief, guilt, and harrowing self-doubt, it quickly became apparent that this silence was stronger than all of them. The challenge of breaking it remained unmet for the rest of the journey.

They spent the next few hours burrowing through a featureless corridor of maize fields. The stalks rose far above the monstrous 6×6 Land Cruiser, leaving only a thin strip of clear sky visible like the painted ceiling of a renaissance church. Wezi found herself glancing intermittently at the CB radio, half expecting, half hoping, for King's voice to crackle through the speaker, bringing words of comfort, or a much needed attempt at levity.

After she caught herself staring at the radio for the sixth time, she decided it might be best to get on with her work. She plugged her headphones into her notebook, bring up the audio files she had recorded thus far, and set about creating a very rough cut of their first day on the road.

KING(VO): "Everybody knows Yange, Yange's the god! Ahaha."

Wezi listened through King's first interview. When she had everything she needed, she listened to the interview again, and then once more. It was not lost on her that she just wanted to hear his voice, to lose herself in a pleasant digital echo, far removed from the frantic screams that followed him into the asphalt.

Wezi listen to Veronica's interview next. Veronica bristled with excitement as she talked about her upcoming visit to Copperbelt province, steadfastly attempting to recruit Wezi to the effort. Veronica had no idea what she was heading into when she stepped out onto Yange's front lawn. Then again none of them did.

The thin strip of sky was turning deep orange as Wezi reached their encounter with the villager. It was chilling to hear his voice after the fact, to revisit the conniving, veiled pleasantries he employed against them. She cringed as she heard Yange's hand grasp her arm, ashamed that she let herself fall for the villager's trickery.

YANGE(VO): "You did good, I'm sorry for grabbing you. I just didn't want you to do something you'd regret."

WEZI(VO): "No it's fine. I was going to. Do you know what happens if you talk to him?"

YANGE(VO): "Not sure. Came close myself once, a few years back. The way he looks at you when he thinks he's got you? I don't think I wanna know."

WEZI(VO): "Yange, I— "

Wezi paused the audio file, clicking back ten seconds before pressing play again.

WEZI(VO): "No it's fine. I was going to. Do you know what happens if you talk to him?"

YANGE(VO): "Not sure. Came close myself once, a few years back. The way he looks at you when he thinks he's— "

Wezi certainly didn't notice that at the time. She had been so shaken by her run in with the villager, and so curious about the abandoned car that she had been completely blind to anything else that had came her way. Maybe Yange misspoke, maybe he meant to say weeks or months. But if it wasn't a mistake, if it was a truth carelessly uttered, then Yange Nsefu had some explaining to do.

The road to Dambolamadzi was posted online in November 2021, less than a year ago.

Wezi glanced sideways at him, a wall of corn rushing past them as they approached the rest stop. Throughout this trip, every emotion Yange had displayed had seemed genuine. The sadness, the anger, the concern. They told a story of a man who cared deeply about the welfare of those around him. Yet at the same time, it was strikingly clear that there was something he wasn't telling Wezi.