The familiar stranger

by Priscilla Mafa (Zimbabwe)

I didn't expect to find Zimbabwe

The familiar stranger “I can’t continue with you guys, I am tired. I am going back to the bus and take a nap. You can come to fetch me when you find the village,” I said this to my research colleagues. We had walked for some kilometres but we could not seem to find the village we were looking for. We were in the middle of nowhere. The village was part of our fourth year field research. We wanted to explore how the people in the remotest area of the Midlands Province in Munetsiwa village were surviving since they had barred themselves from the modern world. I walked about five hundred metres towards where we had left our bus and heard some screams and shouting. I could sense the danger that awaited me there but despite that I forced my way to where the screams were coming from. I could not believe my eyes when I saw some naked men beating up our bus driver. We had left Mike in the bus since he had opted to stay there. The strangers had dirty pieces of cloth wrapped around their waists. The upper part of their bodies were naked. They were speaking in a language I could not understand. Mike was weeping bitterly when I announced my appearance with screaming. I pleaded with the men to release Mike but it seemed like they were not understanding what I was saying. The one who seemed to be their leader whispered in the other men’s ear and he then untied Mike. I thanked the leader who just smiled back. His skin was different from the others. Though he was wearing a cloth like the others, he seemed different. Bertha, my research colleague and two men whom I did not recognise were waiting at the bus when we arrived. She said they had found the village and had been welcomed warmly. Mike could walk though he was limping a little and we took him with us since we were afraid of what had transpired before. We walked for about a kilometre before we reached the village. I was about to complain again when I saw a big round wall. The wall was made of stones that were on top of each other like those at Great Zimbabwe monuments. It was beautiful. I wanted to take out my smart phone for a selfie when Bertha told me that I had to pay my respects first to the whole village. I used to think I had seen best things in my life but what I saw at this village made me change my perspective of the world. The huts were beautifully decorated in different styles and colours. The size of the huts portrayed the hierarchy of the people in the village. The king’s huts were enormous and the most beautiful. Big green trees that surrounded the huts complimented the beauty of the place. The two men who had come with Bertha led the way to where the whole village was gathered. Luckily, the King could speak a bit of English and this made it easier for us to ask him what we wanted. He said this was a pleasure for him and he was going to ask his son directly to assist us. We were offered a meal as we were waiting for the King’s son to return. The food was gracefully made and presented in large wooden bowels and some few plates. Meat was the only food which I recognised, the rest was new to me but I ate it because my mouth could not resist the tantalising taste. The clock was about to strike noon when one of the King’s children came to fetch us saying his brother had returned. We were all surprised to see a man in jeans and a sweater said to be Prince of this clan. we were expecting to see a man wearing a waist cloth. I was still wondering about this village when the King’s Son greeted me with a smile. “Hi”, he said and I recalled the smile. The smile was familiar but the owner was a stranger to me. We then both said, “the beating”.