Two Hangmen, One Scaffold Book II: In The Hangman�s Shadow

Chapter 18

173 C Chapter 18 hearty gush of warm air swept through the compound as Matipa made her way out of the compound to the office building. This day, 10 December, just like 29 November, was painfully unforgettable to her. She couldn’t believe five paramilitary officers had just interviewed her at gunpoint in the privacy of her house, and threatened to shoot her in the head over the suspicion her husband was Binga Jochoma. They claimed she was knowingly harbouring a wanted man and demanded to know where he had gone to and when he would return. Because she was adamant, Akar Muja was Akar Muja and the fugitive Binga Jochoma was Binga Jochoma, her answers didn’t please them. They screamed questions in her ears and pinned her to the floor, her underwear showing. The man holding the pistol to her head expressed frustration and cocked the weapon. One of the men asked her to say a quick prayer. She mumbled the Lord’s Prayer between gnashing teeth. As soon as she said amen, they asked her the same repertoire of questions: where’s Binga? Where does he hide? Who’re his bitches? What’re their cell numbers and addresses? Do you realise by lying to us you’re breaching the law? What name is on your husband’s ID? Who is his next of kin? The questions were endless, and her responses infuriated them. In-between the questions, they called her all sorts of names, from lousy lizard to scum and bitch. Finally, the pistol holder pressed the muzzle hard against her temple. Matipa’s lips moved, wordlessly pleading her innocence and ignorance of the Binga they were out to arrest. The man pulled the trigger. The pistol clicked. She cringed and wet her clothes. There was no bullet in its chamber. Then suddenly they picked her from the floor, straightened her clothes sympathetically and set her in a sofa. A 174 “Take it easy,” the leader said, squatting before her and looking into her eyes squarely. His voice was solicitous, like one proposing love. “There’re chances this husband of yours lied to you too. It’s very possible. However, I want you to know he’s a very dangerous man. Binga is a killer that’s why the army sent killers to bring him to book. He’ll kill you if he learns you spoke to us. That’s how trained men of his calibre cover their spoors. When he walks into this house, make sure you alert the mine owner or Mr Keneas. That’s the only sure way you can protect yourself from this monster.” He straightened and bowed slightly. “Have a good day, madam.” The soldiers left. She mopped a pool of her urine on the floor. When she finished there was a knock on the door. Finding a wrapper on one of the sofas, she wound it around her waistline and sank in the nearest sofa. Mr Keneas and three journalists entered. One of the journalists was male. They found her stunned and tense, impenetrable, stagnant tears standing on the rims of her eyes. Her limbs and ribs hurt. From the sofa she couldn’t rise, lest they’d see she had wet herself. The reporters started by expressing their sorrow over her son’s kidnapping, their words a heartfelt relief. In their empathy, they guessed right that she was probably going through a torrid time of her life. As she wiped her tears, she warmed to them until they were free to interview her. They begged her to be at liberty to talk to them about Peza, her husband and Bomani Kumanda. They said her plight needed publicity and assured her the story would appear on the main news bulletins on national television and radio, both ZBC and Channel 2 News, the state-run Herald and a couple of independent newspapers. Such publicity would rouse some scouts, vigilantes or the army into hunting the kidnapper and his henchmen, and boost her son’s chances of people finding him dead or alive. This was what she was dying to hear ever since the abduction. With cameras and hand-held tape-recorders rolling, she answered all their questions and capped everything with the torture she just went 175 through at the hands of the military men. Tears stood in the eyes of the female journalists by the time she finished, and...