A Rivalry from the Womb: Stumbling on a Monarchy for grabs

Suddenly, two of his former best friends joined him on a very secluded stretch of the very unfamiliar smooth and straight road, leading into a far distance the eyes could not see, which looked eerily dark in spite of the bright shining and hot summer sun. Despite their walk appearing to take a sustained quick pace, something he could not put his finger on, seemed to indicate they were wandering aimlessly.

The clear smiles on their faces, failing to completely conceal the strange, uncomfortable shadows lurking behind their eyes but not the wonderful memories the sudden encounter would evoke in him, did not help his troubled mind. Everybody seemed deep in thought, silently reminiscing about the good old times when their circle of friends had what everyone believed to have been the best time for any youthful adults.

Between the seven or so of them, they all had everything going for young men; fresh from college, either a few years old in middle class dream jobs or running promising white collar businesses, which naturally came with the usual most sought after trappings- reasonably good cars and dwellings, thus personifying debonair which naturally made them any girl's dream date prospects which, needless to say, they duly put to good use except they overdid it because many times during weekends, if they were not already out downing shots of reasonably priced whiskies and other similar classy drinks like there was no tomorrow, then they were literally on a hunting excursion for youthful dates for the night or week-end's outing. When one thought about living in the fast lane, they should be wrong if they did not have this lot in mind.

The one-man-one-woman nonsense did not apply to them. They were the typical Casanovas out to rewrite the philandering script and hard-partying. Fridays were what Sundays are to devout Christians- yes, Friday nights specifically, for during the day, they each played the perfect employee-of-the-year at their respective work or business premises like seasoned actors in their final stage performance for a most coveted diamond prize, yet, come nightfall, one would be at pains to point at the people they thought they knew too well as meek and sworn to the straight-edge, after the chameleon transformation they would have undergone, from appearance to their overly flirtatious interactions, betraying their now, over-heated testosterone, gone berserk. Their daytime doubles were simply that- pretenses. From their fashionable night dressing, to the explicit flirting with anything in a skirt, or without, as was mostly the case with the nocturnal traders of matters flesh, which meant game to be charmed and when need were, eaten raw, one would be forgiven for failing to recognize them as one would with day and night!

So, come every Friday night, the question, whether they would go out or not, was not even applicable, but with whom, and which places would play host to their cherished merry-making and a myriad other not-so-holy shenanigans. Almost all the workers at the most popular joints in the small bustling city knew their crew not only by their smiling and sparkling faces, courtesy of the drinks' intoxicating power, but the sarcastic aliases they called each other with when tipsy, their bad and redeeming features such as the generous tips and, needless to say, everyone's favorite drinks, as well. But definitely not their "other" companions. In fact, hell would have a much bigger snowballing chance than trying to attach one or two particular fairer-sex identities to these party animals, since these, they changed like one does with their underwear. In short any attempt to associate each one's face with one particular outing-mate, or even a few specific ones for that matter, was to say the least, an exercise in futility.

Almost every occasion presented an opportunity for its special type of company to report for "official" duties. Vesting the same or even just half the amount of vigor and organizing abilities that was wasted in the pleasurable activities, in more productive areas, would have easily made one, an Elon Musk forerunner. Business or work related parties and other similarly respectable social functions would see some, pitch with big "mommas" befitting the seriousness of the occasions as if they were all that responsible; the type that covets formal dressing like suits, long skirts, and drink responsibly, but still managing to look respectably gorgeous. The downside with this lot was the unsolicited counseling services on all manner of issues as if they were already decades old in marriage, or on duty, offering some paid for counseling services. These, they called the marriage type; too uptight and Bible-quoting holy for their liking- typical boring mommas! On the other hand, typical weekend hang-outs and parties were for the serious business that hardcore revelers would suspend certain frivolous health ailments until Monday for- heavy carousing and bedding as many cute lasses- the skimpy, almost naked and ready-for-anything type- as possible as if in some global competition whose prize included the monarchy of the whole world.

To justify their life style, the crew had a creed for almost every vice or indulgence, ordinarily frowned upon by the self-righteous and latter-day Pharisees. "Life is what you make," being the obvious one, and "a boring life is a waste of talent," the most popular that they fondly threw around which also perfectly reflected their recklessness. It was a rollercoaster full of thrilling incidents, some bordering on crazy. They truly lived dangerously, no wonder it did not take long for members of the crew to live by the norm then; the faster you drive, the faster you die. Soon, one by one reaped what they sowed as they departed for the other life, due to various incurable ailments they would have acquired during their numerous short-time, night sexual stints, at least for those who believed in its existence anyway because some within the crew, more especially when high on their litany of indulgences, scoffed at any allusion to the same. But Tito and a few others defied this maxim and lived long till now.

Saturday and Sunday mornings as a result, turned into regret occasions for what went down during the previous night's adventures for the closely-nit circle, hence, providing copious laughter for everyone. There were particular such occasions that remained vivid in Tito's mind which naturally also produced many interesting talking points at such "review" morning gatherings. The gist of them all remained the same- carousing and quenching of their excessive lecherous desires, and of course, any of the numerous scandals accompanying.

"And you nuthead, forget about that damsel you've been chasing with everything you've got after your last night's stupid stunt," Ze Louis was saying to a still not-so-sober Emu Nada who instantly expressed ignorance about what Ze, whom he teasingly called Reuters because of his elf-shaped ears which ensured no whisper of gossip escaped him, was talking about. Hangover was apparently killing him, which was not surprising owing to the copious amounts of the hard stuff he had again stubbornly imbibed the night before, in spite of everybody who knew what he became once he downed a few bottles, advising on toning down. Now he was trying everything to kill it, beer, water and lots of sizzling pieces of braai, all of which he kept complaining of tasting like boiled stale cabbage, while swearing over his dead body would he repeat the mistake, which, nobody, having heard it a million times, took seriously anyway.

"You blew it real good this time, bra. Big up, nice job."

"What for heaven's sake are you yappin' about Ze?" he had genuinely inquired before firing back in his usual irrational outbursts when cornered. "All I remember is you fawning all over that cheap tart I already chopped the other weekend," making everyone turn their jibes on Ze Louis but only very briefly because, Azidon, calmly ignoring him, joined by offering an apt explanation hence ensuring the spotlight was still shining brightly on him.

"'Ave you forgotten about your little spat with that fellow skunk of yours over your fav'rit' 'hore?" Still Emu looked none-the-wiser. However, the more he expressed ignorance, the more everybody seemed to enjoy it hence prolonging the chit-chat and it took a lot of narration when suddenly, a flurry of memories, seemed to hit him.

"Oh damn, you mean zat! Now I remember."

"Yes zat, idiot," Zoe quickly chipped in with a cheeky grin.

Apparently, they had been blissfully unaware of Elly's presence at the same party until Emu tried to chat up another famous loose girl whom everybody seemed to have long decided was public goods, leading to collision with yet another guy who had also been eyeing the same cute but easy-going, frequent party-goer, which expectedly slipped into an open physical confrontation, and as others joined in to separate them, the jostling alerted Elly to come out to watch and hear the cause of the scuffle just like everyone else at the party not knowing who the libidinous belligerents were, that Emu's friends seeing her, tried to restrain him to protect his reputation, and hence, his chances for Elly's heart, which however unwittingly further fueled an already raging blaze.

"Idiot," everybody exclaimed at once, laughing and cheering loudly like they had started drinking hours ago when they had barely touched their drinks.

"So, you mean she heard everything, as in..."? He started wistfully but only finished the sentence with a head-shake when the realization of the damage done seemed to hit home.

Everybody shook with laughter. "What d'you mean, heard? Saw!" Zoe corrected him. "With those two cute eyes you always on about how sexy they look and her whole horde of braggin' wailers too!" He mocked him while everyone joined in the long cheerful laughter as Emu who always did not forget to remind everybody about his strong desire to marry the girl should she cave in to his amorous advances, shook his head in undoubted despair.

"As a matter of fact, we tried to subtly tip you off but being the big fool you become when sozzled, you dared everybody including her to go to hell!" Zoe turned the screw, which seemed to work perfectly.

"Holy shiiit! Now you should help me to explain to her, dudes. You know I can't afford to lose zat one."

"Please man, what do you mean lose? You didn't even get the poor girl in the first place, Mr. Bull Fighter who can't throw a proper punch," Hankeys said smugly with his trademark big grin playing on his lips, rekindling another round of laughter with imitations of Emu's confrontational stunts during the said face-off the night before as Emu sheepishly smiled before taking solace in his half-full bottle.

Trying to deflate the talk, he turned to Mthini, his usual scandal-mate in drunkenness whose forte, apart from going after every prostitute in his stupor, was not to hesitate joining any mass brawl that broke out once in a while for any of the most ridiculous reasons as long as he knew one of the belligerents, which for him however seemed to mean donating his already funny round face as a landing pad of mostly misplaced salvo of blows from his equally sozzled, and hence, off-balance opponents, which would nevertheless result in him spending a big chunk of time, cold-compressing his painful, swelling face, covering both eyes come the following morning. Incredibly this one seemed to have slipped him by.

"By the way, how is our promise-to-marry doin' bud?" Emu pulled a joker which this time, appeared to work like a bomb because immediately, the joke was on him with a unanimous demand from everybody for him to share more sordid details, but Mthini knowing the script too well, could only join in the hearty laugh at himself while dramatically clapping his hands, and finally holding his shaking big flat head. The lady Emu had referred to as "promise to marry" was a one night stand for Mthini, who in his drunken stupor, had gone overboard with his sweet talk, trying to impress her, including telling her that he truly loved her and would marry her despite having only met an hour earlier at best, thus tickling everyone once they heard the whole story.

In the morning when Emu and Zoe had paid him an early visit, Emu went on, and oh la la- the lady seemed to have literally taken Mthini at his word, looking at home, having seemingly taken over and freely running the house looking in every way the madam of the house for the past ten years thereby making his friends to just refer to her as such where upon her tongue loosened and explained how Mthini had in fact mentioned about marrying her in future thus sending everybody into a tearful mirth. Mthini had known there and then, that the story would make one of the hot banter topics at their usual reliving-the-night "after" party and long after. The over drunkenness however proved to be his saving grace too as according to the loquacious lady of the night, when teased as to how their brother had performed in bed considering his drunken status, she set Mthini free from any worries of having sex without any protection since he couldn't remember clearly what went down under the sheets, as, considering how 'tired' he was, he just switched from talking trash, straight to the loudest snore "I have ever heard in my trade" thus adding more fire to the jokes to be on Mthini later.

But Mthini was not completely down and out. "Yet you were busy coaxing the same girl you fat pig,' he retorted once he found an opening when Emu was slightly distracted from the story.

Then, there was Gibo, with his unending canny jokes anytime, day or night, only when sober though, and who turned into a wise man on almost every subject once he had drowned enough beers but beyond which, he would easily outclass Mthini in the contention for the title of the group's clown due to his crude dancing antics. In his alcohol-acquired wisdom, Gibo would dish out what a few beneficiaries of his beer-lived expertise would testify to its effectiveness. The irony being that, come morning, and now completely alcohol-deprived, his head became the very personification of empty headedness as regards any beneficial wisdom he dished out, and more often looked clueless when some apparent beneficiaries of the same, expressed gratitude to him for the windfall they made courtesy of that very same expertise dished out at a previous drinking session, yet, he would have no idea what the hell they were talking about, which meant he could not use any of that alcohol induced wisdom to do anything worthwhile for himself, and his family's benefit with regards to extra sources of income besides his gainful employment, hence being the butt of the joke, "Mr. Do as I say when am drunk" among his peers. As a result, he too, made sure to feature highly on the menu of "last night's escapades."

"Yes I hooked that one and took her to a room. That far I remember," he would testify. "But as to whether we did the deed, is the bothering part, gents."

"Why???" everybody asked in unison at one such "confessions-of-the-night-before" gathering, eagerly, knowing very well whatever that would come out next from his mouth was guaranteed to be more stupid than his other gibberish before, put together.

"Because, I still had the wrapper unopened in the morning despite both of us being literally naked and in a tight embrace!" he said with a distorted face as if in pain thus sending everyone rolling with more laughter, not because they knew what that meant, but because in his statement, he had imitated the country's former leader who loved to repeat the phrase "literary naked" with exaggerated funny hand gestures when describing how he found the people in the country when he delivered independence from its colonialists. So everybody went on and on, repeating the phrase, 'literally naked' while failing to control themselves from swearing at Gibo's stupidity.

Of those usually never to absent themselves from such gatherings and during the wild all-night escapades, three guys were no more, having passed on in quick succession a few years later. The rest, including Zadillo, Kampan, Mthini and Tito himself, were scattered all over the country, and abroad. This encounter now, was torturing him. Despite their usual cheerfulness in real life, the visiting pair seemed eerily quiet now, obviously bothered by something. He could see they were trying to communicate something to him with their worried looks on their faces as they approached the now, visible and sandy beach. Suddenly he couldn't see clearly anymore and was even struggling to walk to keep up with them when they took a boat, and in trying to clutch on to it as it slowly drifted into deeper waters, he found himself struggling to breathe. He had always feared water and couldn't swim. But now, he had no choice if drowning was not his favorite alternative. He twisted and turned until suddenly he woke up to a start and sat up, slightly startled by the nightmarish experience, threw away the blankets which were making him feel hot and swimming in his own sweat. The electric fan had stopped on its own so the sweating made sense. He always slept with a fan switched to the highest level in summer because he always felt hot, but somehow, it had stopped. Whenever this happened, he sweated profusely like now. A quick glance at the extension through which the fan was connected to the mains showed no led lights on, indicating there was no power. Another scheduled blackout or fault which meant hours of no electricity to endure- the curse of living in a corrupt, poor African country, he thought painfully.

Pressing the light button on his mobile phone, he saw the time registered 1:57 am. He did not understand how he fell asleep so fast to enable him to have such an intensely depressing dream. Having gone to bed around 10 pm, he was sure to have taken another whole thirty minutes or so to finally find real sleep which meant it should have been around 11 pm and therefore the dream, regardless of what time it started, lasted for less than three hours yet it had felt like a whole day. At any other time, a dream was exactly that- merely a dream. But this one had seemed too real, almost feeling the touch of his friends, who were both late now when they "shook" hands, and the parting words sounded too surreal to be ignored.

"It's sad that it will have to end like this after all the good times we shared as a family!" The words still reverberated in his head like they were being spoken just now.

Did the dead really speak or communicate with the living in any way? Tito wondered, remembering how his late mother fussed about the foreboding power of her dreams especially when she had nightmares, and later on connecting them to what had actually happened at her home village, when news reached them- there were no mobile phones then, even telephone lines were few and far apart- through mail of some sad incident concerning probably a close relative or some personality well known to her! "I told you that I was having trouble sleeping. This is what it was about, I'm sure," she would say, leaving him and his siblings just wondering about what hard stuff mum was on because they were too young to even comprehend such deep concepts then.

Slightly raising the pillow against the headboard, then resting his head and part of the broad shoulders on it, while fanning the sweat away with the bed sheet as he reflected on the nightmare he had just had, Tito could not fully find the perfect answers. It was not the first time that he had had nightmares. Neither was this the most disturbing of them all, but there was something he could not put his finger on which just lay beneath his understanding of the whole episode. Perhaps it was because during their time on earth, these two, Godfrey and Duli, arguably the most personable members of the crew, had on many occasions played peace makers when some members of the group had differences which threatened its unity.

Not once, not twice, but time without number had they also done the same with himself, being full of imposing attributes, hence prone to collide with fellow members who shared the same traits, having been involved in such fights over mostly flimsy issues. Two of those involved his now avowed arch-enemy, whom Tito made sure not to cross paths with again anytime soon, having heard of what he had become since then, and was pleased that had come to pass, at least this far. Hence his apprehension and his second-guessing of his own avowed disbelief in the nonscientific world due to this unusual nocturnal visit if he could call it thus.

Why now after all this time then?