A Girl Named Disaster

36

Nhamo was returning from the lucerne fields. She had been gathering food for the guinea pigs, but had been distracted by a black wasp that was running around a patch of cleared land. Dr. Masuku had widened her knowledge of insects. Now they were not merely something to be swatted. They had families and illnesses just like people.

The black wasp dashed up to a twig and flipped it over. It dislodged a pebble, scattered dry grass, and scurried along a fallen fence post. All at once it jumped back with its wings raised. A huge spider stepped out from under a leaf the wasp had disturbed. It was a baboon spider with long, shiny fangs! Nhamo dropped her bundle of lucerne.

But the wasp didn’t flee. It plunged straight into battle, and the spider reared back with its fangs exposed. Faster than Nhamo could see, the insect was in and out of biting range. Its stinger dealt a blow to the spider’s head. Very soon the spider began to stagger as though it were drunk. The wasp landed squarely on it now, almost embracing it with its black legs as it delivered another sting to the belly.

Nhamo was thrilled. This was every bit as exciting as a lion kill without posing any danger to her. What courage the wasp had to tackle something so much bigger! When the baboon spider was nearly dead—its legs quivered slightly—the wasp flew off. Nhamo wondered why it didn’t stay to feast on its fallen enemy. She wanted to ask Dr. Masuku, but her spirit still burned with anger toward the treacherous Matabele woman.

Nhamo gathered up the lucerne and trotted off to the village. People had left their work and were moving toward the main road. She soon saw what had attracted them: Dr. van Heerden’s Land Rover was being unloaded of its treasures. Dr. Masuku had a stack of magazines, Sister Gladys carried a box of disposable syringes, and the staff cook had his arms full of sugar bags. Dr. van Heerden was wiping his face with a red-checkered handkerchief.

“The blerry* flies were after me, I can tell you,” he exclaimed. “They thought I was lunch and dinner rolled into one.” He opened the door of the Land Rover. “Come out, Bliksem! You’ve got some tasty jackals to find!”

Out of the door bounded a huge black dog exactly like the beasts that had attacked Nhamo on her first night in Zimbabwe! She dropped the lucerne again, but she didn’t drop the knife she had used to cut it. The world seemed to disappear. She saw only the huge black animal leaping around its white master.

“Look, meisie-kind,* I brought you a playmate,” said the whiteman. He pointed at her. The beast started for Nhamo with its red tongue lolling out of its mouth.

She stood perfectly still. She would not run any more than the wasp had fled from the spider. Of course not, whispered Long Teats. Only cowards run from their enemies.

“Nhamo! Don’t!” shouted the Matabele woman.

The dog was almost upon her now, but something in her face checked its gait. It swerved to one side. Nhamo struck out, raising a red streak along its ribs. The dog howled fearfully. “It’s too late to make friends now,” she snarled as she turned to pursue it.

“Stop it!” bellowed the whiteman. He threw himself between her and the dog. “Voetsek! Go away!” He gathered up the animal in one hairy arm and thrust the other before him to ward Nhamo off. He backed off hurriedly, with the whimpering animal clutched to his chest.

She paused just an instant. Baba Joseph said you should forgive your enemies. Forgive your enemies, indeed! I say kill them all as quickly as possible, cried Long Teats. Nhamo threw back her head and howled. Then she hurled herself at the whiteman and buried the knife up to the hilt in his arm.

She felt herself being dragged back from behind. Her wrist was wrenched so hard she could hear the bones snap. The Matabele woman grasped her from the front, holding her in a tight embrace, and the spirit of Long Teats suddenly fled into the blinding sunlight.

“Mother! Mother!” screamed Nhamo, and fainted.

She clung to Mother through the long afternoon, becoming hysterical if the woman had to leave for a few minutes. She told her everything she had kept hidden for fear of being sent away. She told about the ngozi and the escaped marriage. She told about the cholera epidemic and the muvuki. She told about the panga. “I thought it was a gift from the dead Portuguese. Really I did!” She told about being possessed by Long Teats and killing the black dog. “No one will want me now. I’ve turned into a witch,” she sobbed. She talked until her voice gave out and still she clung to Mother and wept if the woman showed any sign of leaving.

Finally, when the sky grew dark, Sister Gladys gave her an injection to make her sleep and to lessen the pain of the broken wrist.

In the morning, Nhamo stared at the white walls of the hospital and refused to speak at all. Mother and Dr. van Heerden sat by her bed. His arm was bandaged and he was still angry about the injury to Bliksem. “He’ll never trust a child again,” he said. “Poor old fellow. He was only trying to play.”

“Did you find her father?” asked Mother.

“I found his family. They weren’t anxious to talk to me. They didn’t trust white people.”

“At least they didn’t try to kill you,” Mother said.

“I think she should go off to them at once.”

“That’s probably best.”

Nhamo listened numbly. Her father’s family wouldn’t want her either when they learned she was a witch.

“Is she insane?” Dr. van Heerden asked for the second time since Nhamo had arrived at Efifi.

“How could she not be? All those experiences…,” Mother said in a sorrowful voice.

“I expect her relatives will know how to deal with it.”

“And I expect better things of you!”

Mother and Dr. van Heerden turned to stare open-mouthed at Baba Joseph, who was dressed in his Sabbath white. He brandished his sacred staff with the crook on top.

“You think of throwing this child away as though she were a dead guinea pig! You plan to cast her immortal soul into eternal fire! Woe be unto you, you whited sepulchers! You speak with the voices of angels, and yet have not charity. You drive the little ones away when Jesus gathered them to his arms. Shame on you, you hypocrites! This child is possessed of a demon, and I will not rest until I have cast it out! I swear this before Mwari and his angels!” With that, Baba Joseph whirled around and strode from the room like a man of thirty.

For a moment Mother and Dr. van Heerden were too stunned to speak. “I think I’ve been sent to stand in the corner,” the Afrikaner murmured at last.

“You and me both,” said Mother in a subdued voice.

They listened thoughtfully to Baba Joseph’s voice in the distance. He was exhorting someone to throw away a cigarette.

“Maybe we have been too hasty about getting rid of the Wild Child,” said Dr. van Heerden after a while.

“Perhaps we have.” Mother smoothed out the wrinkles in her skirt.

They looked at Nhamo, who gazed back at them full of remorse and sorrow, but also with the faintest beginning of hope.

*blerry: Bloody (a mild swear word).

*meisie-kind: Girl child, kid.