I am sorry. Had a hectic day BUT as l promised; the first chapter of our fictional book is here. It’ll take most of our chilled Thursdays. Hope you enjoy it.
PART ONE
Young Malusi stirred awake, the lingering mist of his dream slipping away as his mother gently shook his shoulder. The small hut was dimly lit by the dying embers of the fire, casting flickering shadows on the thatched walls.
“Malusi, my son,” whispered Nandi, her voice soft yet urgent. “You were calling out again in your sleep. What did you see?”
Malusi rubbed his eyes, still half caught in the realm of dreams. “I saw a great light, Ma,” he murmured, his voice filled with wonder. “It was like the sun, but it spoke to me.” Nandi’s brows furrowed with concern. In their village nestled among the rolling hills of Southafrica, dreams were taken seriously. They were believed to be messages from the ancestors or the gods. But a light that spoke? That was unheard of.
“Tell me, Malusi,” Nandi pressed gently, “what did the light say to you?”
Malusi hesitated, his mind racing to grasp the fleeting fragments of the dream. “It said… it said I must prepare,” he finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper. “Prepare for what, Ma? I don’t understand.”
Nandi held her son close, her heart heavy with worry. The elders would need to be consulted. Dreams of this nature were not to be ignored. But as she gazed into Malusi’s earnest eyes, she saw something more than fear or confusion. She saw a depth of conviction that spoke of something beyond their understanding.
In the days that followed, whispers spread through the village like wildfire. The boy who spoke to the light. Some spoke in hushed reverence, believing Malusi had been chosen for a great purpose. Others murmured darkly, fearing that he was marked by the spirits of the ancestors for sacrifice. They said he would be killed and given to the gods as food.
Nandi watched her son, Malusi, standing before the elders in the flickering light of the sacred fire. Her heart clenched with fear as she saw the gravity etched on their weathered faces. The murmurs of the villagers swirled around her, a mixture of anticipation and unease.
As the eldest elder listened intently to Malusi’s recounting of his visions, Nandi felt a chill run down her spine. She had heard tales whispered late at night—of children who, blessed or cursed by visions, were taken away to the hills, never to return. Taken by the spirits, they said, to serve in ways mortals could not comprehend.She remembered the stories of mothers who had lost their sons in such ways. They spoke of grief that never healed, of unanswered questions that haunted their dreams. Nandi’s grip tightened on Malusi’s shoulder, a silent plea for him to remain rooted in the present, to stay with her where she could protect him.
But Malusi, unaware of his mother’s inner turmoil, continued to speak with a conviction that both comforted and terrified her. His voice carried across the sacred grove, weaving a tale of light and peace, of paths yet to be taken. He spoke so casually but his audience was getting more and more anxious as did his mother. What would it be? Would his life be taken like that of his friend Samu? The decision was left to the elders.
{Chapter Two – Saturday 27/07}