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before me. I could swear I felt a slight pang of headache as I walked, but I paid no attention to it. It could have been anything — anxiety or the effect of too much alcohol. I rubbed my head and smiled as I traced my way forward. The whistling trees whistled and chirping crickets chirped as I moved through the dark. And of course, yes, the plan was still fresh in my head. I smiled for the umpteenth time and leapt over a branched log of wood, almost slipping and falling. I laughed at myself and hurried on in search of Fanta Manta's house. As I moved, I imagined how he would take the surprise and a great ripple of rhapsody moved through my scrawny soul. I laughed again and stopped abruptly as I realised I was already a few meters away from his house. There was a light on inside, and it glittered through the window. But, of course, I did not worry as I had made provision for this occasion in my plan. I dipped my hand into my pocket and produced a small sharp knife. I looked at it with deep admonition — because it had been my friend for the past five years — and walked straight to the back door of Fanta Manta's house. One thing with knives is that sometimes they do not do exactly what you want them to. But anyway, I had made sure my plan was foolproof in this regard. Quickly, I turned the doorknob. To my greatest surprise, it wasn't even locked. This could have been a mistake — most definitely! But it was in my favour, and I didn't care as well. I moved in and closed the door quietly behind me. Just then, I felt a strange laughter echo through my ribs. I held my soul and laughed in the semi-dark corridor. This would be the end of Fanta Manta, I swore. Never show thy enemy love! Swiftly, I raised my lamp aloft and walked in in search of the old fool. I moved stealthily through the corridor and arrived at a room whose door was partly closed. I stopped myself and observed with my faint light. The glow I saw outside, I came to realise, burned in the kitchen. I swallowed hard and tried to make sense of everything. "Fanta Manta should be fast asleep," I said to myself. Such a bumbling old fool can't be awake by now! Still, I stood there and held my dim light — not moving, not feeling anything at all. You know what they say about life: sometimes it shocks you, sometimes it hugs you. And just there in particular, I saw the semblance of Fanta Manta approach from the darkness ahead. I quivered but still held my lamp as firmly as I had. My head felt a bit heavy as I watched the man approach me. I knew the plan after all, so I held my peace and watched gimlet-eyed. This Fanta Manta must be put in his place, I thought. Fanta Manta had a limping gait, but this semblance in the dark moved so easily I could have sworn it wasn't him. But I mustn't let him escape, whatever tricks he was up to. So I widened my eyes and looked forward with precision and accuracy. Such a bumbling old fool must pay for all the wrong he has done to me. I raised the penknife in the dark and waited for the right time to draw fresh blood. As I waited and watched him walk lazily, I wondered where he was headed at that time of the night — if he was even seeing at all. Then, suddenly, as if he had noticed an unusual light in the dark corridor – or like someone who had been walking with sleepy eyes all along – he gasped and tried to step back. Quickly, I charged towards him and plunged my weapon into his belly. He yelled in anguish, and I hugged him a bit tightly – pushing the knife in with my own belly, the lantern behind his back. I listened to his breath as he struggled to live. I felt for him as a human would feel for his fellow man. But no! Fanta Manta was an old fool. So, quickly, I ensured my work was perfected, and watched him slump to the ground. I heaved a deep breath and decided it was time to move to the next stage of the plan. When I tried to raise him, he felt heavy, and I wondered what he had been eating lately. But that was none of my business — he could eat his own head for all I care. Raising the strangely heavy Fanta Manta from the ground, I managed to carry him to his bed. And when I tried to drop him, I realised his hips were even heavier than what I could attribute to Fanta Manta. But I wasn't ready to fall for his tricks. So, I left him on his bed and charged towards the door that had seen me in. But then I forgot! Yes, I forgot. So I rushed back to drop the penknife on the bed as I had planned. I felt quite greatly that with this, no one would argue that Fanta Manta did not stab himself. Having dropped the knife, I charged out again, almost stumbling and falling sideways. Luckily, my light was still on, glittering as faint as it had been. I found the door and discharged myself. I heard the crow of the cock and stepped outside with a smile on my face. It was already morning, and I went to discharge nature's liquid from my body. I never knew I was in for a surprise. Just as I brought out my device, I saw Fanta Manta coming with his sheep and looking ever so alive. Shock went down my spine in milliseconds, and I stepped back. I studied the man closely, and indeed it was Fanta Manta. I felt a frozen sea rise within me. I coughed and looked within my soul. It was then it dawned on me that I must have mistaken another house to be his. So quickly, and with great trepidation, I charged my feet to discover who I had murdered last night — to discover whose last cry I heard. Fear gripped my soul as I walked past Fanta Manta, ignoring his greeting. "How could I have missed killing the old fool?" I said to myself. I didn't know what to do exactly, but I kept moving. I feared I must have killed an innocent woman. Oh, what have I done?! I pondered as I tried to find out which house I had entered in the wee hours. I knew how difficult this would be, as any mistake would reveal me as the … as the … oh! I jumped over a log of wood and shouted, "Sarah Banda! Sarah Banda!! Are you not awake?!" But no reply came from Sarah Banda's house, and I presumed she was the one. "Oh, Lord!" I cried. "What have I done?" Sarah was that little innocent woman who was always full of smiles. Just when I had concluded she was dead, Sarah Banda opened her door and said, "Oh, Zik! What have I done this time?" I shook with fear and asked if she had a little pepper to spare. Quickly, and without thought, Sarah Banda ran and provided me with some pepper and even some salt. "Take this, Zik. Whatever it is, I can do for you." Of course, many times I have wondered what I could do to repay Sarah Banda for her benevolence. But this wasn't time for such thought. So I thanked her and moved on. I held the condiments in my hand and went to check on Zanchi Zanza. "Zanchi Zanza!" I called. "Are you not awake?" Yet again, no reply came. I persisted and called again, "Zanchi Zanza! Zanchi Zanza!! Is the morning too cold for you?" Still no reply came. I became worried and called out again, "Zanchi, I have come to take you out as I promised!" Yet, no reply came. "Oh, Zanchi Zanza! Please, answer me. It is nobody but Zik. Please, ZZ! Please, my adorable Zanchi!" But no reply came. With tears strolling down my eyes, I rushed in and found Zanchi dead with my knife beside her arm. "Is this the work of my hand?!" I screamed and fell upon her body, annoyed that I could not even recognise the hips of Zanchi Zanza — the only woman who had made my miserable life worth living. I sighed deeply and decided it was time for another plan. I cried and kissed her darling lips — tasting the lips of the dead. 5

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