Storymoja
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No one had come. It was on purpose. Linda’s idea he was sure. She wanted him to find his way back. Not because it would be a character building feat or a fun way to test his memory but a punishment. A well thought out penitential rite meant to facilitate a much deserved guilt trip. “Halo I have just alighted and am at the stage”. He feverishly gripped his Blackberry tightly covering its entire breadth with his palm in an attempt to keep its identity hidden from searching eyes. He had heard tales on Facebook of how his cousins had gotten mugged and he was not too keen on having a story of his own to tell.
“Kam tu si unakumbuka njia. Niko peke yangu kwa nyumba na siezi toka”. Yeah right. He could make out the familiar hint of derision in her voice. He had become accustomed to it. Like the way she always replied in Sheng whenever he spoke to her in English.
Seven years is not a very long time in this part of the country. Sure the road now had tarmac and Elimu Bora Primary School now had iron-sheet roofing and a new water tank. The place was otherwise pretty much the way he had left it. Left. Surprisingly it dint feel like he had ever left. After a short motorcycle ride he reached his destination.
Linda was at hand to meet him. “Umechelewa.”
“There was a slight delay at Amsterdam” he explained as he searched for an appropriate note to pay the Boda Boda man.
“Wacha tu ntamlipa”. She said and proceeded to fish a sh20 coin for the man. The man gave him a look of scorn that sounded very much like Linda’s voice and turned his dilapidated machine around and sped off to pick up another fare.
“I thought you said you were alone” he said, looking at the faces peering at him from the window, their attention attracted by the drone of the Boda Boda.
“Umechelewa”. They stood briefly looking at one another.
“I told you my flight got delayed.”
“Your Flight?” She asked. More derision.
“You know what I mean”
“Umechelewa”
“Where is dad?”
She pointed to the large mound of red earth. He was surprised he hadn’t seen it when he entered the compound.
“What happened? I thought his condition had stabilized?”
His voice sounded strange to him. High pitched.
“His flight was on time,” she said. She turned around and went back into the house. He stood rooted to the spot. Shifting his gaze from Linda’s retreating back and the fresh grave.
© Frankline Sunday
If you would like this piece to be the Story of the Week, please vote below on a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being weak, and 10 being excellent. The numbers will be tallied on Friday and the story with the highest figure shall be Crowned Story of the Week. Be sure to fill in your name and verifiable email. You can include your critique/comment after the vote.
Discussion
17 Responses to “The Prodigal Son by Frankline Sunday”
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symmetry, harmony, easy flow…good ending! A 9.
Posted by Gachagua | August 16, 2010, 7:34 amI didn’t quite ‘get’ the story; perhaps because I was distracted by the grammatical errors? I’ll have to give it 1.
Posted by Maureen Adhiambo | August 16, 2010, 9:46 amGood stuff.
Posted by Philip ogai | August 16, 2010, 10:35 am8
he has tried so much to it is short
Posted by Lewis Kahuha | August 16, 2010, 11:04 amNiice story. I like it. The use of da words was pafect.
Posted by Emma | August 16, 2010, 3:49 pmThis story is one that is very rare. It starts out with alot of suspense and is paradoxical. The reader is meant to believe that Linda is the guilty one here and she’s cruel to her brother. Yet it is her brother who, at the end, is indeed the prodigal son! It also has an African touch which many of us can identify with. A very well-written story that capyures the reader’s attention.
I rate it at 10.
Posted by Ashley Lime | August 16, 2010, 7:06 pmWell writen piece. The story addreses the underlying themes common in African society and dserves to be developed further. In my judgement, it warrants to be the story of the week.
Posted by aby | August 17, 2010, 7:40 amthe story is interesting and has brought out the reality of the African conversation. i give it a 9
Posted by cherop | August 17, 2010, 6:15 pmi give it a 9
Posted by Sharon | August 17, 2010, 6:18 pmthis is definately a good piece. it deserves a 9
Posted by ethan | August 17, 2010, 6:19 pmWOW. A 9 WILL DO
Posted by ethan | August 17, 2010, 6:20 pmI would give it a 7. This is a well written story though the end leaves a lot of questions.
Posted by Raymond Bett | August 18, 2010, 1:26 pmNice. A 9. I like the ending.
Posted by evesreflections | August 21, 2010, 12:58 amstory of the week without a doubt 9!
Posted by kyt | August 21, 2010, 5:05 pmThis is a brilliant story, short and to the point. It’s not about the length, it’s what Sunday has captured: the moment. Let’s not dwell on which parts remain untold and focus on the writer’s presentation of mood and setting. I give it a 7, which could have been a 9 if not for the grammatical errors.
Posted by Mwangi Ichung'wa | August 23, 2010, 2:35 amI give it 9. Well written.
Posted by Nyawira Njenga | August 28, 2010, 10:09 pmthis is a story many people identify with.
Posted by flora | September 20, 2010, 2:53 pm