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Burning Bridges
by Evans Munyemesha
This morning they were taking it easy and slow, resting up
from the flight, trying to kill off the jet lag.
They'd thoroughly enjoyed flying British Airways.
In Lusaka, Hotel Inter-Continental is located in a residential area,
close to government buildings and embassies, just a
few minutes drive from the airport.
'Mwaiseni' …a special welcome to the guests.
The hotel is under transformation to match international standards. It
boasts deluxe guestrooms, a sophisticated business center,
brand new health club, fun and entertaining
restaurants and bars.
When they'd checked in, the hotel had exuded a unique charm and
friendly invitation, unlike the streets and other
structures they'd passed.
Outside it was somber and gloomy. It'd looked like the last place on
earth they'd want to be; scanty amenities, run-down
buildings, filth and dust, cramped narrow roads with
gaping potholes, and the face of poverty looming in
every direction. But they knew that the country was far more hospitable and intriguing given a chance, and its natural beauty and
animal life were unsurpassed in Africa. And they
were looking forward to exploring.
The city seemed to have a lot of Chinese influence also, as they had
come into the country and helped develop some of the
infrastructure. The main road heading west to Angola
and Namibia was built and rebuilt by the Chinese.
There's also a lot of Russian influence. In the days of the Cold War,
the Soviet Union along with the Chinese tried to woo the Zambians into their orbit, especially under the humanist rule of the
country's first president, Kenneth Kaunda.
As they lay in bed, snuggling, Tyson said, "So, what's the main
reason you picked such a distant place for our
honeymoon, this country specifically?
I'm not complaining, I'm just curious."
He was lying on his side, slightly tilted towards her, her back pushed
against his body, both of them facing the same wall. She
grabbed his arm and laid it on her stomach, using it
to draw circles around her navel. "I've always
wanted to go to Africa, retrace my heritage. I thought this would not just be a honeymoon but also a journey into my past,
reaching back to my roots."
"That's it?"
"Yeah. You thought there was more to this."
"I'd wondered that you might be trying to search for lost
relatives."
"I would love to do that but with so many generations of
separation, I doubt I would have any luck."
"If you looked really hard, you might meet some old frazzled man
who carries your name."
"They don't carry white last names. I would be surprised to find a
Mr. Brown or Jackson here. Unless of course, they
are descendants of the white generation."
"Yeah"
"This is time for us to just commune with nature, enjoy each other
have a ball. No soul-searching."
"And adopt me into your culture."
"Yes, that too."
"But I have to let you know that I am not participating in their
rituals.
They do some really weird stuff."
"How could we accept you in this culture if you are not willing to
give it your whole; it's either you are in or
not."
"I'm not buying any of that. I have seen it all on television and
I am not giving in." "Oh,
that TV thing again, all that is made up. You will see the real thing here."
"I can't wait."
"It would more fun when we move away from the city. Cities, I've
heard are crime-ridden, and a nuisance just like
back home, but you get more out Africa by going to
places that have not been yet touched by the hand of development."
They chatted more, talking about the little they know about Africa,
what they hope for in their marriage, how many
kids they plan to have and when, and how happy
they felt at finally being husband and wife. And suddenly, they
were famished.
"You want to call for room service?" She asked.
"No, I would like to go and have the breakfast buffet. That way
I could avoid the baby ducks."
"That's fair enough. I wouldn't know what to order anyway."
He squeezed her tummy and
said, "Let's get up and fill this baby up."
She caressed his hand, taking
in the delight of their closeness. She was lost in
thoughts, feeling the sweet love of his touch, so snug by his side; lost and alone in her mind, but together in life for she
knew that he loved her, his devotion had burned in
the corners of her soul, removing all shadows of
doubt, staking his claim with a love unknown. Together, they'd walked the path of romance, dancing to the tune of a
dream, a dream to be cherished, breathed, beside
him. With one heart, they'd waited to build a castle
in the sky, climb up there on steps of hope, reaching so high, touching
tomorrow, creating a universe of their own.
To her, he'd ridden on a cloud and reached out to her, gently asking
for her fragile and easily broken heart, promising
to treasure it, not letting it fall and break into
shards and pieces, smoothing the rugged edges of bitterness,
loneliness, and rebellion, soothing her soul, lifting her from the
dark.
In each other's arms, until the end of time.
They got up to dress.
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