The night was starless and humid. We drove along that
peopleless, untarred, potholed road—winding and zigzagging like a snake
into a SINISTER hole. We labored and labyrinthed into an even darker directionlessness
like an object tumbling into an abyss of no return. We couldn't dread a dusty darkness
without lingering leopards but we're dogged by a sense of hopelessness
and lostness. The car creaked, laughing as it lugged us
up and down till dawn heaved in and homesteads
peeped over the horizon.
Ever since his appointment to the lofty position of defence minister, he seemed to be gripped by some phobia. Some residents claimed the irrational fear stemmed from the possibility that he did not know what he was expected to do. Others thought that he was a lucky coward who found himself having to oversee a strategic security portfolio which he did not deserve or understand.
Then one day one foreign journalist decided to ask him one general question. "Sir, please shed light on what you are doing or intend doing as minister of defence to keep soldiers fit?"
With exaggerated steadiness, he cleared his throat and said, "Soon l will start some friendly wars with neigbouring countries".
Ndaba Sibanda hails from Bulawayo, Zimbabwe's second largest city. A former National Arts Merit Awards (NAMA) nominee, Ndaba's poems, essays and short stories have been published in Africa and the US. His book of poetry, The Dead Must Be Sobbing was published in March 2013 by SBPRA.
He lives in Saudi Arabia.