I met this incredible man at a workshop I attended recently. He told me a chilling story about how he escaped death, here in Uganda! It was like one of those thriller movies people like to watch. You know, when you can't breath properly and your heart is beating abnormally fast as you watch to see if the 'hero' will make it out of the impossible situation alive... I don't watch them anymore. The tension is just too much for me and I have nightmares with me in the middle of the chilling adventure!
Anyway, after hearing this man's story, I was inspired to write a short story for children with an adventurous edge and a hint of danger. So here we go, using my pen name Eky Ntulo...
A CLOSE CALL
By Eky Ntulo
It was my first time on a train I could hardly contain my excitement. I took a seat by the window and watched the bustle of people.
“Hi, I’m Jingo,” said a tall lanky boy standing next to me. “Is this your first time on the train?”
“I’m Benji,” I said staring back at him. He looked much older than me and I felt good talking to him. I sat up straight trying to look more than my 9 years. “Mother and I are going to Kasese.”
“Well, don’t you worry about anything,” Jingo said. “I will take care of you.”
Jingo sat down, pointing out the different people boarding the train. “That’s the conductor over there,” he said pointing towards a short man in a smart uniform. “There’s my mother, the one loading the big sack of goods.”
“Do you often travel by train?” I asked watching Jingo’s mother order some men to carry her big sack into the train. She was older than my mother and looked like she was used to taking charge of things. I could not imagine father beating her or Jingo for that matter. A lump grew in my throat and I quickly blinked away the tears. The reason why we were taking this trip in the first place loomed up before me. Father had gone too far this time. I could still feel the sting of the whip on my back. I had rushed in to save my mother and received some of the lashes. If the neigbours hadn’t come to our rescue, I swear he would have killed her.
“Are you alright?” Jingo asked. “You look a bit pale.”
I normally don’t pour my heart out to someone I had just met, but I guess the situation was a little bit overwhelming. Rubbing my short stubby hair, I told him what had happened. “We had to leave home,” I finished. “Mother has some relatives in the Rwenzori Mountains.”
“Well, looks like you are one tough cookie,” Jingo said patting my back. “Like I said, I will take care of you.”
Mother walked in to take her seat.
“Mother, this is my friend, Jingo,” I said. “He’s traveling with his mother too.”
“Nice to meet you, Jingo,” mother said sitting down. Since the beatings started, mother had become very frail and worn out.
“Mother, Jingo has offered to show me round the train. Please may I go?”
“I’ll take good care of him, ma’am,” Jingo said.
“Alright, but don’t be gone for too long,” mother seemed to be relaxing now that the train was moving.
We explored the entire train and when I went to check on mother, she was stretched out on the seat, fast asleep.
At around noon we stopped in the dinner carriage. The smell of food made my tummy rumble.
“Would you like a soda,” Jingo asked sitting down at one of the tables.
“I don’t have any money,” I answered.
“Not to worry,” Jingo gestured to a waiter. “That guy there owes me a couple of sodas.”
Wow, I thought. My admiration for Jingo was growing by the minute. A heavy set man with thick unruly hair joined us as we sipped our sodas. I could tell that he was a friend of Jingo’s from the way they greeted each other. He whispered something to Jingo.
“I’ll be right back, Benji,” Jingo stood up and left.
The heavy set man stared at me in an uncanny manner, making me feel nervous.
“So, my boy,” he said, his voice deep and hoarse. “Are you traveling alone?”
“Of course not,” I answered, wondering what sort of adult thought that a child as young as me would travel alone. “I’m with my mother.”
“Well, you had better say goodbye to her,” the hoarse voice took on a creepy tone. “You will not be seeing her again.”
“What do you mean?” I asked fear running down my spine like a cold icy finger.
“You will see, my boy, you will see,” his voice was distinctly evil. His eyes narrowed into a thin line and he tapped my cheek with a grubby finger and then left.
I sat glued to my seat. Where was Jingo? I thought. Was mother alright? Perhaps father had followed us to the train and was going to force us to go back home. The thought was too horrifying. I can’t just sit here and let him beat her up again, I thought. Spurred into action, I jumped up from my seat and hurried back to my carriage.
I was about to burst through the door, when I heard voices inside. I pushed the door ajar quietly and listened.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry to tell you that Benji has been taken ill,” Jingo was saying. “He is receiving treatment in the first aid booth.”
“Oh, poor Benji,” mother said. “I must go to him at once.”
“No, ma’am,” Jingo quickly interjected. “He is resting. I will take you to him later. He is really fine, probably just something he ate.”
I heard Jingo make as if to leave and hurried to the end of the corridor looking for somewhere to hide. I had to think quickly, so I just opened the door of the wagon and stepped down on to the steps. I closed the door behind me and hooked my arms to the railing. The wind was strong as the train whizzed along and I had to hang on for my dear life.
After a few minutes I returned to the carriage door. My heart was racing as I entered. Mother was sitting on the bench staring sightless in front of her.
“Mother,” I said kneeling down beside her. There is something very wrong going on,”
“Oh, Benji, you’re alright. I was just coming to see you.”
“Mother, I haven’t been sick,” I tried to explain. “I think Jingo and his friends are working for father.”
“What are you talking about, Benji? Your father doesn’t know where we are.”
Just then, the door of the carriage opened and Jingo’s mother walked in. My heart missed a beat. We are finished, I thought.
“Please, Maama Jingo,” I pleaded. “Please let us go.”
“What are you talking about?” the large woman said. “I am not Jingo’s mother.” She came up to mother and sat down beside her.
“I saw your son talking to that boy, Jingo,” she whispered. “He has some very bad friends. I just came to warn you.”
I stared at the woman in shock. Everything Jingo said to me was a lie. But why did he do that?
“There is a group odd looking men in the carriage next to mine,” the woman continued. “I overheard that boy, Jingo tell them that he had found the perfect subject for their needs.”
“He means me,” I said, breathing fast, my hands sweating. “They are planning to take me.”
“I just came to warn you,” the woman said getting up. “Don’t trust the conductor or the police. Don’t trust anyone!”
“You had better act quickly,” she said as she hurried off.
I feeling of panic started rising inside me. How can we hide from these people on a train?
“Benji, what was that woman talking about?” mother asked frowning.
“Mother, we have to hide,” I tried to explain. “Jingo has some people who want me.”
“Don’t worry, Benji, I cannot allow anyone to take you,” mother said standing up. “We shall alight at the next station and take the bus. This is your father’s work. I wonder how he knew we were on this train.”
“Mother, we have to hide now,” I said anxiously. “We can’t wait until the next station.”
“But there is no where to hide on the train,” mother spread her hands.
I took a deep breath then I remembered where I had hidden earlier. “Come on mother, hurry.”
We tiptoed out of the carriage to the door of the wagon.
“Stand on the steps and hold onto the railing, mother,” I said earnestly. “Hurry up someone is coming.”
Mother turned round and stepped out on to the lower step of the wagon. I followed her, closing the door behind me. Mother’s body shielded me from the wind and bushes. I could see how her back was suffering and could not stop myself from thinking about the many times I had seen father whip her. This was probably less painful. In that moment, I vowed that if we made it alive, I would always protect my mother and when I grow up, I will be a lawyer who makes sure that fathers stop beating mothers and children.
After what seemed like forever, the train slowed down and stopped. We jumped off quickly and holding hands, we disappeared into the nearby bushes. What a close call!
THE END
