Mangongongo
"I love you dad", where the words that stuck in his morbid mind as he tried to escape the raucous noise in the truck they were packed in. His seventeen years old, beautiful daughter had shared these words early in the morning when he did the school run. Noma, his full-time housewife, had also said a protective prayer over him as he left for work. They had managed to have one child, and no one knows if it was by choice or by fate. Noma and his daughter were his world - at least he could revel in the memories of the moments they had shared right in the heat of the summer noon, made worse by the thick metal helmet he was wearing. Born of humble parentage in the rural parts of Chikomba, Anachan was not exposed to much and the ideal life he aspired to have was the one the local constables were leading. Friday nights were the highlights - opaque beer, pipes and turns on the few local hookers at the Rural District Council bar. In this remote setting, they were untouchable too. ...