THE GIFT OF SECOND CHANCES: A TALE OF RESILIENCE

Written by mayah kandoje

The morning in Satelo village was unpredictable, switching between hot and cool with breezes that hinted at changing weather ahead.
Michael stirred from his restless slumber, the coarse mat beneath him doing little to alleviate the throbbing in his head—a constant reminder of his ailment. With a heavy heart, he nudged Chikondi, his voice barely above a whisper, "Wifey, I'm off to Jeke's Farm. Here's K300, it's all we have. Buy some maize flour, will you? Mphatso needs her porridge."

Chikondi's response came as a sleepy murmur, tinged with concern, "But darling, you're unwell. The farmwork is demanding, and you've not eaten since yesterday. What cruel twist of fate is this? Father, what sin have I committed to deserve such hardship?" Her tears soaked into the fabric of her tattered dress, each drop a testament to her despair.

Michael, taken aback by her words, turned his head from side to side, as if searching for an answer in the empty room. He took a deep breath, locking eyes with Chikondi, "Chiko, our trials are shaped by His will. Blaming your father or the divine won't change our plight. Yes, we went hungry last night, but that's why I rise at dawn, seeking work so that our daughter—and we—might endure. Please, no more tears, my love." With a gentle touch, he parted from his wife and stepped into the day.

Mr. Chanthunya was a figure well-known throughout Satelo, his name synonymous with the construction company and car garage he owned. Chikondi, his once-beloved daughter, and Tito, his son, knew the warmth of his affection well. Yet, two years prior, when Chikondi found herself in the throes of an unexpected pregnancy, that warmth vanished like mist in the morning sun.

Michael Kachala, the son of Mr. Kachala—an office assistant to Mr. Chilombo Chanthunya, affectionately known as CC—was just a fresh graduate. Chikondi, in her third year at the University of Malawi's Chancellor College, had her future laid out before her.
Despite Michael's frequent visits, Mr. Chanthunya harbored a disdain for him, rooted in a prejudice against his humble origins. "I refuse to squander my wealth on layabouts. If you choose that pauper's son over your family, consider yourself disowned," CC had bellowed, his voice laced with contempt.

And so, when Chikondi's pregnancy came to light, her father's threat materialized. She was cast aside, left to navigate the stormy seas of a shotgun marriage without the anchor of her family's support. It was the beginning of a tale of love, loss, and the resilience of the human spirit.
Michael was not one to succumb to idleness or indifference. Post-graduation, he tirelessly sought employment, yet fortune seemed to elude him. There's a saying that without connections, poverty becomes a steadfast companion. So, his Hospitality Management degree became just something nice he talked about with his wife at home.
At times, Michael felt overwhelmed by what he hadn't achieved. He sensed the community's quiet criticism and felt that his education was pointless, which troubled him. He questioned the value of his studies when success appeared reserved for the well-connected, leaving the 'layabouts', as Mr. CC derisively termed them, to merely taste the honey of prosperity from afar.

As days bled into months and months into years, hope dwindled within the walls of Michael's home. Yet, they persevered, sustained by the unwavering support of Chikondi's mother-in-law, Mrs. Kachala, who had become a surrogate mother to her after her own mother's untimely demise.

But destiny has a way of honoring persistence. In the eighth year, as Mphatso approached her seventh birthday, their fortunes took a dramatic turn. Michael, Chikondi's unwavering pillar and Mphatso's doting father, secured a promising job, all thanks to Mr. Jeke, the benevolent owner of the farm where Michael had toiled for years.

"Mike, you conduct yourself like a man of education. Tell me, how far did your studies take you?" Mr. Jeke inquired one day amidst the farm's bustle. Clearing his throat, Michael responded, "Thank you for noticing, sir. I hold a degree in Hospitality Management from Mzuzu University." The revelation sparked a wave of surprise among his peers.

"Remarkable! Send me your CV by day's end. What serendipity!" Mr. Jeke exclaimed, visibly pleased.

With that, Michael's journey led him to Zambia, where he managed a quaint establishment known as Hotel Peace. This marked the onset of his ascent. From modest beginnings, he climbed the ladder of success, eventually becoming an entrepreneur with his own ventures, including a thriving beekeeping business that exported food products internationally. Leveraging the knowledge Chikondi had acquired in college, she adeptly managed several businesses and resumed her education in economics through distance learning. Together, they embarked on a path to economic liberation.

On a particularly harsh day, weather-wise, Chikondi and Michael reminisced on their couch, recounting the tale of their first encounter at a bustling market. Michael had retreated upon discovering she was the daughter of his employer's boss. Yet, destiny had other plans, reuniting them when Chikondi sought academic guidance, and Michael, then a second-year student, was the only one who could assist. They were Satelo's rare university attendees.

"And then you were too scared to kiss me, you fool," Chikondi teased, prompting laughter that filled the room.

Their laughter was abruptly silenced by the shrill ring of Chikondi's phone. An unfamiliar number flashed on the screen.

"Hello?" she answered. "This is Tito, calling from Father's phone. Dad is gravely ill. He's asking for both you and your husband. He insists. We're at Zimatha Hospital," the voice rushed before the line went dead.

"Dad? Desiring our presence?" They exchanged puzzled glances and hastened to the hospital.

When Chikondi arrived at the hospital, her brother Tito greeted her with a hug that was warm yet tinged with sorrow. "Sister!" he cried. "Tito, what's happening with Dad?" Chikondi asked, her voice laced with urgency. "Dad's on dialysis again, but it's not working this time," Tito said, his voice breaking. Chikondi was stunned; she hadn't known about her father's illness due to their estrangement. "His body is weak; he needs a kidney transplant, but no one in the family is a match," Tito explained, tears streaming down his face.

Chikondi was resolute. "I'll get tested. Maybe I can save him," she declared. Michael added, "Me too."

In a twist of fate, it was Michael who matched as a donor. Mr. Chanthunya's health was restored after the transplant, and he was soon discharged from the hospital. To celebrate his recovery and the mending of family ties, he hosted a feast for the family he had once cast aside.

During the gathering, Mr. Chanthunya addressed everyone with a humbled expression. "I'm grateful to you, Chikondi and Michael. I never imagined the son I rejected would be the one to save my life. I've learned that some things are beyond the reach of wealth. I ask for your forgiveness," he said, kneeling before them.

Chikondi, overwhelmed by memories of hardship, wept. Michael, lost for words, offered his support. Mr. Chanthunya, holding his granddaughter, joined in the tears. Michael spoke up, "To err is human, and seeking forgiveness is noble. Helping you was my duty."

He seized the moment to impart wisdom. "When our children face their darkest hours, that's when they need us most. Turning them away is never the answer. We're still your children, seeking your guidance."

The family raised their glasses, toasting "to a new family, to a new life," and embraced. It was the dawn of a new era—a life of peace and prosperity.

At the height of the celebration, Chikondi called Michael over. "Listen to this sweetheart" He knelt and listened to her belly. "He's kicking," he said with a smile. "Yes, he's celebrating with us," Chikondi replied joyfully.

Laughter filled the air as they basked in the happiness of the moment.

THE END