The Colours That Blind by Rutendo Tavengerwei

Author:Rutendo Tavengerwei [Rutendo Tavengerwei]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bonnier Publishing Fiction
Published: 2020-04-19T16:00:00+00:00

33

Tumi

I am thinking of Ambuya’s tales from last night and trying to imagine this place as it was in her stories. I want to see if it makes sense. I breathe in and look in front at Jabu, who is still going, running up the incline as though it is nothing. I am now starting to regret that I agreed to this. I am not tired, but my chest is burning and I have a deep desire to be lifting something instead. I pull out my phone and pant as I run behind him.

‘Man, we need to take a break,’ I yell. My phone says we’ve been at it for seven kilometres. And iPhones don’t lie.

‘We’re not there yet.’

Not where? Death?

I am starting to resent him a little.

Just because he saved my life yesterday doesn’t mean he gets to run it now. Thing is, I can lift for a whole hour or even two without complaining. But cardio out of the water isn’t my thing. It’s simply monotonous.

‘Nah, Jabu bruh, we have to stop.’

He turns back and looks at me, his face shiny with sweat. I am standing with my hands rested on my knees, craving water. He jogs down towards me and pats me on the back.

‘I thought you said you wanted to win. This doesn’t look like it, city boy.’

Honestly, do I have a sign on my forehead encouraging this whole nickname business?

‘Come on, let’s go, mfana. We’re almost there.’

‘Nah fam, I’m tired. I need a break.’ I’m a little annoyed. Not because of any of the stuff from before. I mean, this Jabu boy … I mean, Jabu, he is good people. But I’m annoyed because his forehead is that shiny and yet he still wants to keep going. I sit down at the edge of the main road that leads to the wealthy side of Vumba with all the resorts.

‘You’re the one with all the fancy equipment there in the city, and yet you can’t keep up with a farm-boy? Look at you, panting like you’re dying.’

I ignore him and wipe the sweat off my brow.

‘It’s this noise you listen to that’s tiring you, I bet,’ he says pointing to my headphones.

‘Man, stop hating on my music.’

‘Let me listen to one song. Maybe I’ll like it,’ he says, stretching out his hand. I slide the headphones off my head and hand them to him, then select something from Stormzy’s album on my phone. There’s no going wrong with Stormzy. If he doesn’t like it, there’s no hope for him.

I watch his face, expressionless for a while. Then it gradually twists before he chuckles, shaking his head.

‘What sort of music is this, mfana? I can’t even hear anything with all that noise he’s making. Play another song. Maybe I’ll like something else.’

‘Ay, this is not an evangelical church, bruh. It’s either you like it, or you don’t. There’s no repentance here!’

He laughs and hands me back my headphones.

‘You’ve got to get up though. First rule of running: you never sit down, otherwise you won’t want to get up.

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