• This is a continuation of a series revolving around a fictional police post in the village
• A father suspects his daughter of losing her virginity despite his good parenting
Image: DAVID MUCHAI
“Bedbugs?” Inspector Tembo shouts angrily after we discover what kept him awake all night. “I’ve never ever seen a bedbug in my life!”
“They are common here in the country,” I inform him. “I’ll take care of it.”
“What I need to do is get out of this godforsaken place. Can you take care of that?” He storms into his office.
I make a note to take care of the bug problem just as a man and a young girl walk in. The man is fuming like a mad bull. The girl looks scared to the bone.
“Welcome. My name is Sgt Makini. What can I do for you today?”
The man shoves the girl towards the desk. “Tell him!”
She says nothing.
“Tell me what?” I ask the man.
“Well, my daughter here is only 12 but she thinks she’s grown enough to play with boys. Don’t you, Debora?”
I have no idea where to start but I have to say something.
“Debora,” I say, “are you being a bad girl?”
“No,” she says softly.
“No?” her father growls, shoving something in her face. “Explain this then, huh?”
I take the incriminating item: a towel with spots of blood on it.
“Where did this come from?” I ask.
“I’ll say it since Miss Smarty-pants here won’t,” the father says. “I found it hidden in her room. Under the bed. She had a boy in there. In my house!” He turns to Debora. “Since your mother died, haven’t I done everything to raise you like a good Christian girl? And this is how you repay me?”
I hold up the towel. “Debora, you can trust me.”
Debora raises her tearful eyes to me. She then turns to her dad and immediately her face drops.
“See what I have to deal with?’ her father says. “Pure insolence! It’s a crime, no? Punish them both. Her and that dreadful boy. We can’t allow such behaviour to ruin our God-fearing community.”
“Mister…” I prompt.
“Deacon Kongo, Our Lord The Saviour Church.”
“Deacon, we don’t know where the blood came from. If indeed this is blood. But I’m sure if we ask nicely, Debora will tell us if she knows. Won’t you, Debora?”
The girl flops onto the bench set against the wall. She folds her arms across her chest.
“Here we go again.” Deacon Kongo throws up his arms. “I swear if I wasn’t betrothed to The Good Lord… See? Now she has me swearing.” He puts his palms together and looks up as if in prayer. “Forgive me Lord, but you also don’t like fornicators.”
“I’m not!” Debora shouts.
“Watch your mouth, young lady,” Deacon says, swinging towards her.
I step between them, turn to Debora. “Can you tell me in private?”
“No,” she says defiantly. “You won’t understand either.”
“I promise to…”
Just then, Debora stands up and runs. She throws her arms around a woman at the door. I recognise her from my first meeting.
“Gwendoline?” Deacon says.
“What’s the matter, child?” Gwendoline asks Debora.
Debora whispers something in the older woman’s ear. Then Gwendoline glowers at the Deacon and I.
“You should both be ashamed of yourselves,” she says, stretching a hand towards the Deacon. “Give me Sh500.”
“What for?” roars the Deacon. “I don’t reward sins.”
“Your daughter needs feminine pads, you damn fool!”
Without another word, the Deacon hands her the money.
“I’ll be back about my goat, Sergeant,” Gwendoline says as they leave. “And don’t for a minute think I’ll forget.”
“So, that’s what happened?” Deacon asks.
“Nothing more. Period,” I say.
Edited by T Jalio