03/09/2024
Shadows part one
Zakaliya stood at the window of his Johannesburg apartment, sipping his favorite whiskey, Malawi Gin. The evening sun cast a warm glow over the city, but he felt a chill inside. He was worried about his daughter, Zelith, and their last conversation.
As he looked out at the city lights, his mind replayed their discussion about her mother, Belinda. He thought about his own mistakes as a father and felt a pang of regret. The whiskey couldn't shake off the feeling of unease.
Just then, his phone rang. It was an unknown number from Malawi. Zakaliya's heart skipped a beat as he answered.
"Hello?" he said, hoping it was Zelith calling to talk more.
"Mr. Zakaliya, it's Inspector Chisale from the Lilongwe Police Department. I'm afraid I have some devastating news about the death of your daughter “
Inspector Chisale's voice was somber. "Mr. Zakaliya, I regret to inform you that the body of Miss Zelith Zakaliya was found near her home on Chilumba Street in Lilongwe. We're still investigating the circumstances surrounding her death."
Zakaliya's mind reeled as he tried to process the news. He felt like he'd been punched in the gut, his breath knocked out of him.
"When...when did this happen?" he stammered, his voice shaking.
"We received the report earlier today, sir. I'm afraid I don't have more details to share at this moment, but I assure you that we're doing everything we can to investigate Miss Zakaliya's death."
Zakaliya's thoughts raced back to his last conversation with Zelith, their arguments, and his regrets. He felt a wave of guilt wash over him, followed by a surge of anger and a desire for answers.
The next morning Zakaliya sat in the dimly lit airport lounge, nursing a cup of black coffee. His mind was a jumble of emotions as he waited for his 6 o'clock flight back to Lilongwe. The thought of attending Zelith's funeral was almost too much to bear.
He glanced around the lounge, trying to distract himself from the pain. Businessmen and women sipped their drinks, typing away on their laptops, oblivious to his sorrow.
Zakaliya's thoughts drifted back to his daughter. He remembered her bright smile, her infectious laugh, and her unwavering optimism. He felt a lump form in his throat as he thought about the what-ifs.
The boarding announcement broke the spell. Zakaliya gathered his belongings and made his way to the gate. As he walked onto the plane, he felt a sense of resignation wash over him. He was going home to say goodbye to his little girl.
Zakaliya settled into his business class seat, accepting a Malawi Gin on the rocks from the flight attendant. The familiar scent of the gin, with its hints of citrus and spices, brought a fleeting sense of comfort. He took a sip, feeling the warmth spread through his chest, but it did little to ease the ache within. He gazed out the window as the plane took off, watching Johannesburg fade into the distance.
The flight attendant's gentle voice broke the spell. "Can I get you another drink, Mr. Zakaliya?"
Zakaliya nodded, his eyes welling up with tears. "Just the gin, please."
As the plane hit cruising altitude, Zakaliya closed his eyes, letting the gin's warmth spread through his body. He felt exhausted, emotionally drained. The funeral, the investigation, the questions – everything seemed to be weighing him down.
Suddenly, he was jolted awake by the sound of the flight attendant's voice. "Mr. Zakaliya, we're starting our descent into Kamuzu International Airport in Lilongwe. Please fasten your seatbelt."
Zakaliya rubbed his eyes, feeling a mix of relief and dread. He was going home, but he was also facing the harsh reality of his daughter's death. The thought of walking through the airport, of being surrounded by familiar sights and sounds, was almost too much to bear.
As the plane taxied down the runway, slowing to a gentle stop, Zakaliya's mind wandered back to memories of Zelith's early years. He remembered her first steps, her giggles when he tickled her, and their bedtime stories together.
The memories flooded his thoughts like a bittersweet tidal wave. He saw her beaming smile on her first day of school, her laughter as they played hide-and-seek in the garden.
The plane came to a stop, and the flight attendant's voice filled the cabin, warm and welcoming. "Takulandilani ku Kamuzu International Airport, in the warm heart of Africa!"
Zakaliya smiled slightly, despite his grief, as he appreciated the attendant's pleasant tone. He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself as he wiped away his tears. He knew he had to face the reality of his daughter's passing,
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