The Lost Mzungu and other Short stories- Where is truth

Pg 1, 2, 3, 4 n 5

“Order, order in my court room.” Shouted the sober judge as the startled court room looked on, perplexed by the sudden outburst from the presiding judge. It is not uncommon for judges to shout out in response to severe noise made by spectators or interested parties in a court room. What made this particular scene odd was the fact that the court room was silent previous to the outburst and hence the surprised expression worn by most people in the packed court room. “I will have order in my court room or I will hold all of you in contempt of this court” continued justice Furaha in a silent ominous voice sending a chill to his audience, who watched silently as the judge seethed for offenses not yet clear to them.

Now Furaha was not an ordinary man, not only due to his achievements that made it possible to adorn the judicial robe but for other reasons not clear to the mass. It would be wrong or at least fallacious to describe his true nature as great, since the word that bests fit him is odd. Yes, this particular justice was very odd not only in the way he determined his cases but in the reasoning that led to those judgments. But he was not always like this, this sober man, for there was a time that his conformity to the traditions of the legal practice earned him his current position. But the universe is an odd place and the mechanisms of time have a way of altering even the sober of minds. So why should a learned judge be an exception to the tricks of fate, for no mortal justice can bring fate to book. And thus the good judge found himself torn between the need to do his duty and his inner longing to exploit his fetish, nature versus nurture.

“Order, order in my court room.” Shouted the sober judge as the startled court room looked on, perplexed by the sudden outburst from the presiding judge. It is not uncommon for judges to shout out in response to severe noise made by spectators or interested parties in a court room. What made this particular scene odd was the fact that the court room was silent previous to the outburst and hence the surprised expression worn by most people in the packed court room. “I will have order in my court room or I will hold all of you in contempt of this court” continued justice Furaha in a silent ominous voice sending a chill to his audience, who watched silently as the judge seethed for offences not yet clear to them.

Now Furaha was not an ordinary man, not only due to his achievements that made it possible to adorn the judicial robe but for other reasons not clear to the mass. It would be wrong or at least fallacious to describe his true nature as great, since the word that bests fit him is odd. Yes, this particular justice was very odd not only in the way he determined his cases but in the reasoning that led to those judgments. But he was not always like this, this sober man, for there was a time that his conformity to the traditions of the legal practice earned him his current position. But the universe is an odd place and the mechanisms of time have a way of altering even the sober of minds. So why should a learned judge be an exception to the tricks of fate, for no mortal justice can bring fate to book. And thus the good judge found himself torn between the need to do his duty and his inner longing to exploit his fetish, nature versus nurture.

Furaha did not always want to be a judge. In fact his dream was to be a pro dancer, waltzing into the best ballrooms of the world. He had always thought himself as possessing unbelievable talent in dancing, and hence the thought that it was only a short time before he could achieve his childhood dream. His father did not quite agree, believing that his son was too bright to pursue such an unintellectual path. Nonetheless, he let his son indulge in his fantasy and did not discourage him from taking adequate time practicing while he should be studying. Day and night Furaha practiced, in the dance school during the day and in his room at night. Indeed, there didn’t seem to be any scenario whereby the young dancer wouldn’t achieve success.

The butter on the bread for Furaha was Winny, his dance partner and love of his life. Winny was beautiful, with a smile that could rival that of the Monalisa. She was blessed with a figure so stunning many were suspected to have broken their necks on the street craning to have a second glance at her. But she was furaha’s, she of such divine beauty. And more than dancing, in fact more than anything or anyone in the world, he loved her. His love for her was so intense that he knew, if it ever came to it, he would gladly lay down his life for her. And everyone thought what a beautiful couple they made, and needless to say their relationship was the envy of the whole estate. It was a sad day for Furaha when his winny packed her bags to leave for her first year in a distant college, to pursue an Arts degree in Music. As for him, to ensure that their knowledge of music and dance is in sync, he too enrolled in another campus as winny’s program was already full. Such was his devotion to their unity, never once doubting their eventual matrimony.

There was a good reason why Justice Furaha was unable to concentrate on this particular trial. He was looking forward to the next case in his calendar, and found the present case boring and trivial. Divorce cases always bored him, wondering exactly why the state cared so much about why mature people wanted to divorce. In fact, he was not aware of any single divorce case he had objected and had always speedily allowed the parties to separate. He was always a fair man and divided property in a manner that he felt was just to both parties; all factors considered. However, he frowned heavily on gold diggers who sought to reap where they hadn’t sowed and did not assign to any what he wasn’t owed. He once sent a gold digger without a cent when it was clear to him that all she had wanted from the beginning was the man’s wealth.

“I’ve heard enough.” Cried the judge and the aggrieved parties looked on, not sure what to do. “We shall meet here in the morning when I shall deliver my judgment, court adjourned.” Furaha briskly walked out of the court room leaving one of the lawyers who was in the middle of presenting his argument completely baffled. And since there was nothing else they could do, they shepherded their clients out of the court room to await judgment tomorrow. Some people were heard questioning the outcome of the day, wondering whether court cases are always carried out in such a drastic and bewildering manner.

The judged relaxed in a comfortable seat inside his office and wondered how he was going to handle the next case. A section of the legal society were suing the police commissioner for human rights abuse during a demonstration recently held to by these learned friends to complain against these same violations. But it seems our country is bent on perpetual ignorance, a need to abuse others as a tool of dominance and subverting rebellion. He can’t help and feel apprehensive about all these, curious about what would happen if the judges took to the street to complain about the same. Would these security men be so enthusiastic to fall upon them with clubs and water cannons, kicking and punching these noble fellows. Perhaps, but he did not intend to let that ever happen and the next case will give him and his brothers a chance to redress this issue once for good. But that is what he would want all his colleagues to believe, for the truth was something totally different.

Furaha back in the days loved to visit his beloved, loving the surprised expression in her face when he surprised her with a visit. He would prepare himself meticulously, choosing just the very clothes that Winny always complemented. But before that day could be upon him, he would spend several more looking for just the right presents to take to his dear Winny. Mostly he would settle for jewellary, expensive ones since she was a woman with very exquisite and expensive taste. But he never did mind, noble Furaha, for the wise men of old did say that love is indeed blind. Some local gurus in fact went further to declare that the beloved’s place has no hills, something that is quite ironical especially for our country. But then, Furaha was so begotten he could never doubt her love for him; and in his eyes Winny could never do any wrong. Once some one had asked him what his definition of an angel was, and he had promptly told the enquiring fellow that it must be Winny. No need to say that Furaha had walked away chuckling to himself as his bewildered companion was left to try and come to terms with his friend’s witty answer.

So after frantic efforts to acquire the right gift for her, he would pack for a weekend and head to her campus. And on arrival, he would show himself in to her room using the key she had given him and wait for her. He always travelled there on a Friday since he knew she would never be in her room and hence his presence in her room would definitely be a surprise. And when she came into the room she would cry in delight and throw her arms around him, hugging him tight close to her beautiful bosom. That hug always stayed with him long after the visit, a beautiful memory acting as a reference point for joy in terms of sadness. She would lean back a bit so as to kiss his lips, slowly at first but frantically as their desire rises up. And there in her room, they would make sweet love taking only short breaks to get some food in their exhausted bodies. Yes, these were beautiful times for Furaha, the best days of his life.

 

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4 responses to “The Lost Mzungu and other Short stories- Where is truth

  1. I thought catherine’s story was not yet over. It was good and I thought it was building to a climax.

    Let me see the rest and then I can have an idea of wat u have in mind.,

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