@Blogs

The Ditch - Bikozulu

8 months ago, 3 Apr 11:06

By: Bikozulu

He was probably from Kiza. Actually I’m pretty sure he was from Kiza because when I turned into Lenana Road I saw his car lying on its side. I also know he hadn’t been in the ditch for long because the rear left wheel was still spinning. Like in the movies. I was excited. I was excited because I had always wanted to be the first to reach the scene of a foolish road accident like this to find the person inside in dire straits, hold his hand as bright red blood oozes out of his mouth because he’s one of those guys who, on top of driving blind drunk, refuse to wear seatbelts because seatbelts “crease your shirt.” I always pictured myself holding his hand and telling him, “Hey, hey, stay with me a little longer…what’s your name?”   “No, what’s your name?” he’d slur with a grin, one side of his face looking numb. I would then ask him if he has any large amounts of money on him. “What?!” he’d try to raise his head, thinking that perhaps this is a robbery. I’d ask him if he has drugs in the car, any type of drugs, at all – ecstasy, cocaine, weed. He’d try to focus on me, but of course I’d be but a hazy voice through his pain and shock and alcohol. He would be fading fast and I would be holding his hand and telling him, “It’s okay. Tell me your secrets now. Do this one thing for yourself. Tell me. Then let go.” Then he would try to open his mouth but his head would slowly roll to the side and I would sigh and stare at him for a while before letting go of his warm hand, switching off his car engine and calling the last number he dialled on his phone. It would ring and ring and finally the groggy voice of a girl would say, “Tim, I told you, you.can’t.come.over.to.my.f*kn.house.period!” Click. Then I would leave him there knowing that he, at least, had a name; Tim.   So yes, I was excited.   I leapt over the ditch and approached the car from the driver’s side. All the windows were tinted heavily. I don’t know why people tint their car windows so heavily including the windscreen. But then again, I don’t know why people write their relationship status on Facebook. With my legs braced against the sides of the ditch, leaning on the car with one hand, I tried the door handle but it wouldn’t budge. I then thought I’d get a stone and smash the window, but that would be too dramatic. I rapped loudly on the window. I could hear music coming from inside. The body of the car was cold and had small droplets of dew on it. And because the days are now shorter and the nights longer it was still fairly dark and cold but daylight was quickly chasing the night. Finally the window slowly ...
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Category: blogs bikozulu

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@Blogs

The Ditch - Bikozulu

8 months ago, 3 Apr 11:06

By: Bikozulu
He was probably from Kiza. Actually I’m pretty sure he was from Kiza because when I turned into Lenana Road I saw his car lying on its side. I also know he hadn’t been in the ditch for long because the rear left wheel was still spinning. Like in the movies. I was excited. I was excited because I had always wanted to be the first to reach the scene of a foolish road accident like this to find the person inside in dire straits, hold his hand as bright red blood oozes out of his mouth because he’s one of those guys who, on top of driving blind drunk, refuse to wear seatbelts because seatbelts “crease your shirt.” I always pictured myself holding his hand and telling him, “Hey, hey, stay with me a little longer…what’s your name?”   “No, what’s your name?” he’d slur with a grin, one side of his face looking numb. I would then ask him if he has any large amounts of money on him. “What?!” he’d try to raise his head, thinking that perhaps this is a robbery. I’d ask him if he has drugs in the car, any type of drugs, at all – ecstasy, cocaine, weed. He’d try to focus on me, but of course I’d be but a hazy voice through his pain and shock and alcohol. He would be fading fast and I would be holding his hand and telling him, “It’s okay. Tell me your secrets now. Do this one thing for yourself. Tell me. Then let go.” Then he would try to open his mouth but his head would slowly roll to the side and I would sigh and stare at him for a while before letting go of his warm hand, switching off his car engine and calling the last number he dialled on his phone. It would ring and ring and finally the groggy voice of a girl would say, “Tim, I told you, you.can’t.come.over.to.my.f*kn.house.period!” Click. Then I would leave him there knowing that he, at least, had a name; Tim.   So yes, I was excited.   I leapt over the ditch and approached the car from the driver’s side. All the windows were tinted heavily. I don’t know why people tint their car windows so heavily including the windscreen. But then again, I don’t know why people write their relationship status on Facebook. With my legs braced against the sides of the ditch, leaning on the car with one hand, I tried the door handle but it wouldn’t budge. I then thought I’d get a stone and smash the window, but that would be too dramatic. I rapped loudly on the window. I could hear music coming from inside. The body of the car was cold and had small droplets of dew on it. And because the days are now shorter and the nights longer it was still fairly dark and cold but daylight was quickly chasing the night. Finally the window slowly ...
Read More

Category: blogs bikozulu

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