"I warn you Mabvuto, going to America will only place a curse on our family. You have to fulfill your duty to protect our country. It has been passed down our family line," said the old chief of Nkhondo village.
Worn out by the years, he had to use a cane to aid his movements, which were slower than a snail itself. He approached his son and tried to place a hand on the youngster's shoulder only to be pushed to the ground shamefully.The "eehs" and "aahs" of the onlooking villagers only opened the tear ducts of the chief... He was feeling sorry for himself. How could it happen that, in his own village, by his sole son, on the Nsangala festival, such shame would befall their family's name. The heir vehemently rejecting the throne so that he could follow his so called lover to a land known as America. How? Why? The wrinkled old man could not comprehend.
Well-wishers helped the chief up to his feet and placed him on a soft cushioned chair some metres away from the disrespectful son.After what seemed like hours, the twenty-five year old finally vocally responded,
"You can never understand father!! My love for Cassandra surpasses tribal beliefs even if you threatened me with your dirty black magic. We are no longer in the dark ages"
With that statement Mabvuto turned his heel and saw Nkhondo for the last time.
YOU ARE READING
Mtetezi
Teen FictionThe adventurous story of a seventeen-year old girl who is suddenly struck by tragedy which brings to her a past she never knew she had. It is a matter of life and death. Will she live on? Only the reader can decide.
