Nigeria's leading fictional story blog - Run, sharp machetes, kill, Hutu, Tutsi, Gunshots, Animals, Hut, Blood.
“Keep running Sylvie,” Ngayabaseka shouted in a muffled, hushed tone. Sylvie dropped to the ground. Her body was weak and her mind was battered by pain. They had been running for nearly an hour. She could smell blood oozing out of the soles of her feet. Thorns had been merciless as they fled from their heavily armed assailants, piercing through their skin with painful ferocity. Gunshots rang out sending chills through them. Their chasers were nearby. They slashed through the bush with sharp machetes and released gunshots into the air with rambunctious zeal. “I can smell their blood. They are nearby,” a baritone voice said with blood thirsty elation. “Get them!!! They must not get away. Slaughter them like fowls,” another voice shouted eerily. “You must get up and run, Sylvie,” Ngayabaseka pleaded with Sylvie, lifting her to her wobbly feet. “Let them kill me. Let them machete me to death Ngaya, my husband. They have killed my parents and our children. What more is there to live for?” Sylvie asked, resisting his urge to get back on her feet and run. “You still have me my love. You still have me, Sylvie. Run for me. Run for us. They have taken delight in killing your parents and our children. We cannot let them celebrate another blood-smeared victory. My love, rise up and run. Let’s deny them another delight. We must live to tell the story of our butchered loved ones. Rise up and run for your father, Nduwimana; for your mother, Rosalie; for our son, Kinigi and our daughters, Elena and Winifred,”
Another sequence of gunshots went off. This time, the shots were closer. As if she had been infused with a performance enhancing drug, Sylvie stood on her feet. The proximity of the second sequence of gunshots jolted her beaten heart back to life. She sped off alongside her husband, Nagayabaseka. Like stallions, they weaved through thorns, branches and mud, barely looking back. Ngayabaseka made sure to stay behind her. He could not stand to lose her. He watched her steps and urged her on. “You are doing great my love. Keep running, he encouraged her. “I am getting tired Ngaya.” “Don’t be wary! We will soon find refuge. Keep running my queen. We must live to tell the story of this day.” The movement of branching and rustling of leaves seemed to energize their determined chasers. “They are not far. I can hear movements in that direction,” a menacing voice shouted. They paced up after them, shouting and slashing through the bush with a devilish appetite to kill.
Soon, Sylvie and Ngayabaseka could hear them behind. They were closing in on them. Then, a deafening gunshot went off. It was awfully close, forcing Sylvie to look behind. There was no sign of Ngayabaseka. Her heart beat which had been shunting like a steam engine began to beat even faster. The thought of him dying left an instant void in her heart. She froze for a moment. No!!! She thought. Ngayabaseka was nowhere to be found. This is it, she concluded and began to run back towards them. “Kill me too!!!” She shouted. As she took her first step in the opposite direction towards their chasers, Ngayabaseka who had mistakenly run to his left reappeared in search of Sylvie. He grabbed her quickly and placed his hand over her mouth. It was too late. She had yelled out already. “Yes, we’ll kill you animal,” their chasers shouted in return, dashing towards them. Ngayabaseka swung to the left dragging Sylvie with him. She fought hard, thinking it was a Hutu assailant. “It is me Sylvie,” Ngayabaseka said, reassuring her. She quickly regained her composure and dragged her battered body into another lunge and they tried to escape.
“Shoot them!” A voice shouted. “I am out of bullets,” another voice replied. “What of you, Bagosora?” “I have just two left.” “Shoot in that direction then. I can hear them running that way,” the voice of the man who appeared to be the leader of the chasing pack ordered. Bagosora raised his gun and took an aimless shot in the direction of Sylvie and Ngayabaseka. His shot was greeted by a loud, painful cry, “Awuuu!!!” A body dropped to ground heavily with a loud thud. “Awuuu!!!” The voice cried again. They ran quickly to the sound of the cry and circled it. Soon, they were watching their own man lying in a pool of his own blood. He had been running ahead of the pack, eager to catch Sylvie and Ngayabaseka. His machete lay beside him as he clutched his stomach. He was wriggling in deep pain. “It is Kavaruganda,” said the leader. They quickly stopped the chase and carried Kavarungada back to town. Sylvie and Ngayabaseka continued running until they heard absolutely no sound behind them.
They came to a river and stopped. They were both exhausted. They jumped into the water for a quick dip and a drink. They lay on the river bank afterwards as their hearts crashed persistently against their rib cages. Tears began to stream down her face as images of her slain parents and children began to come back. Ngayabaseka took her in his arms and wrapped his arms around her. He held her tightly, unsure if he’d be able to hold her like this tomorrow. He fought back the pains and tears as he strove to be strong for her. She cried agonizingly on his shoulders. Soon, they lay under a tree on the river bank and slept. Ngayabaseka wrapped his hands around her all night, waking up every few minutes to make certain she was safe. At the first cock crow, they woke up and began to walk to nowhere in particular. The moon was weak, yet it was enough to illuminate the horizon. They walked for nearly an hour before they found a village. There was hut on the edge of the village. Smoke was pouring through the roof. “There is someone there. Let’s proceed carefully,” Ngayabaseka suggested. They walked slowly, through the bush toward the hut. When they reached close enough to the hut. “Stay here while I go over there and seek for help,” said Ngayabaseka. Sylvie watched closely as her heart pounded fiercely.
Ngayabaseka knocked on the door and almost immediately, it flung open. A bulky man stood at the door. He looked at Ngayabaseka for a moment, studying him. “Are you Hutu?” He asked. “Yes,” Ngayabaseka replied. The stocky looking man regarded him once again. Satisfied that Ngayabaseka’s bulky build were in concordance with his answer, he seemed to relax a bit. “Where are you from? What brings you here? Our young men have all gone out to slaughter those Tutsi animals,” the man added. “Good,” Ngayabaseka said unconvincingly. He looked rattled. This was Hutu stronghold. He needed to get out fast. “I was wondering if I could get some water please. I have been fighting those animals too with my men, but we got scattered in the bush chasing them,” he invented a lie quickly. Sylvie wondered what was keeping him for too long. I have to go find out what is going on, she thought, shaking with fear. “I have some water outside,” the man said pointing to an earthen pot. Ngayabaseka had hoped that he would return inside to fetch some water so he could run back into the bush. “There is a cup there,” the man aid pointing. Ngayabaseka picked up the cup, dipped it in the pot and took a scoop of water. He drank it ravenously, thinking of Sylvie. She must be thirsty too, he thought. As he lifted the second cup to his mouth, his host said, “Those animals are everywhere…We have to wipe them out!” There was a tinge of cruel excitement to his voice.
As he drank, he saw Sylvie emerging from the bush. She was walking toward the house in search of him. Her tall, slender physique would give her away as Tutsi and Ngayabaseka knew that. Then, almost simultaneously, the voices of men walking back to the village echoed through the bush. The men were chanting as they walked back home. “I have to leave now. I need to find my men,” Ngayabaseka said briskly. “Wait. When full daylight is on us, then you can head back in the bush. I know those animals deserve to be killed, but you can rest for a while,” his host offered with a malicious smile. “Thanks, but I have to go,” he said leaving immediately. As he walked toward Sylvie, the man turned and sighted her. The morning was brighter. He could make out her physique. She hugged Ngayabaseka in relief. “What took you so long?” She asked. Ngayabaseka took her hand and dragged her away from the house. “Traitor!!!” The man shouted. “There is a Hutu traitor here!!” The approaching crowd sped towards the hut. Sylvie and Ngayabaseka jumped into the bush and began to run. They could hear footsteps chasing fiercely after them.
STORY CONTINUES.... CLICK TO READ EPISODE 2
STORY CONTINUES.... CLICK TO READ EPISODE 2
If you like this story, please could you share it on Facebook, Twitter, Google+, Pinterest ETC. Thanks!
Poster source: www.genius.com
WWW.MOOFYME.COM: For thrilling stories and informative articles, every day!!!
Like us on FACEBOOK (MOOFYME.COM), and leave a comment after reading our stories. We look forward to reading your comments here on our blog and/or our Facebook page. Thank you!
NOTE: The contents on this site are the intellectual property of the writers. No permission has been granted for the reproduction of our contents to any individual or to any organization, in part or whole on any platform, electronic or otherwise.
Moofyme.com claims no credit for any images posted on this site unless otherwise noted. Images on this blog are copyright to its respectful owners. If there is an image appearing on this blog that belongs to you and do not wish for it appear on this site, please E-mail with a link to said image and it will be promptly removed.
KEY WORDS: HUTU, TUTSI, GUNSHOTS, ANIMALS, HUT, BLOOD,
KEY WORDS: HUTU, TUTSI, GUNSHOTS, ANIMALS, HUT, BLOOD,