CHAPTER FIVE A GIRL FROM EHOMBA MOUNTAIN WHO WANTS TO ACHIEVE SOMETHING

 

A GIRL FROM EHOMBA MOUNTAIN WHO WANTS TO ACHIEVE SOMETHING

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CHAPTER FIVE

A GIRL FROM EHOMBA MOUNTAIN WHO WANTS TO ACHIEVE SOMETHING

From the Mountain to the City Lights

Sunday morning came, but I had not really slept.

How could I sleep after everything that had happened?

How could I ever forget my first weekend in Windhoek?

Part of me wished I was back home in Ehomba, kOndundu yetu mbwae (at our mountain, my dear). Back in my small hut made of thatch and cow dung, where I had a simple wooden bed but at least I had peace.

But then I remembered something I did not have back home.

Money.

Ovimariva ovitenda mbyari pomwinyo wamuhona Jesu!!

(The kind of money that feels like it was present at the death of Jesus, meaning a shocking amount.)

I took out my handbag and also Ndjona-Top’s purse, which I had kept safely because she was too drunk the previous night to carry it herself.

I began counting.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Ten times.

In my purse alone, N$4000.

In Ndjona-Top’s purse, N$6000.

Ten thousand dollars in total.

My hands were shaking.

What if Cota Ma-Cups came back demanding his money because I had not done what he expected?

Before I could think further, my aunt called me into the sitting room.

I quickly pushed the money back into my backpack.

She said that if we were going to live together peacefully, I needed to tell her the truth.

My heart stopped.

Did she know I had sneaked out again?

But no.

She wanted to know about Friday, about how I arrived and how I ended up at Vemuu’s place.

So I told her everything.

The full story.

She was not happy.

“You were foolish to trust strangers,” she said.

But she accepted that I was a village girl who had been taken advantage of.

Then she said in Otjiherero:

“Imwi omumukutu mburi Kavangarutjindo… andakuzu Kavangarutjindo okeri kouye etje kuraera okutja murivi.”

(This city of Kavangarutjindo, if Kavangarutjindo himself were here, he would tell you what kind of city this is.)

She warned me.

“Windhoek is not safe for young girls like you. Avoid Ndjona-Top. Do not become like her.”

Then, to my surprise, she showed me a proper room.

My new room.

She told me to eat breakfast, clean the house, clean the windows, and that it was punishment for lying.

But I did not even hear the punishment properly.

All I could think about was:

A real bed.

She also said,

“You look untidy. Your eyes are red. Go bath.”

If only she knew.

I bathed in warm water for the first time in my life.

Warm water.

I felt like I was being reborn.

Then I went to eat.

I ate like a goat, without shame.

For the first time, I started to feel like maybe… just maybe… I could survive in the City of Lights.

Later, I wondered where my aunt was going so early on a Sunday. She was not dressed for church. She looked like a businesswoman.

After breakfast, I lay on the couch.

I slept deeply.

The sound of her car returning woke me.

I panicked.

I had not cleaned the windows.

The mattress was still in the garage.

I rushed to pretend I was cleaning.

She stepped out of her Audi Q7 with the private number plate “Ngarix Q7 NA.”

Then something terrible happened.

She picked up my backpack.

Inside were the two purses.

My heart was beating so fast I thought I would collapse.

If she saw the money, what would I say?

She asked why I had not cleaned.

This time, I told the truth.

“I fell asleep.”

She did not seem angry.

She simply said,

“Next time, finish your duties before sleeping.”

Then she spoke in Otjiherero-Tjautua:

“Ami shirishiri hivanga, ovandu mbe havanga okuungura shiri, sharwe poyandje mozupo shiri.”

(I do not like people who do not work hard. If you do not work, you leave my house.)

She went into her room.

She had not found the money.

I breathed again.

Then she told me something unexpected.

She had an urgent flight to Brazil.

She would be gone for one week.

She handed me N$500 for emergencies.

She gave me emergency contacts.

She said Mr. Mbaa would check on me.

Then she left.

Her friend drove her to Hosea Kutako International Airport.

For the first time since arriving in Windhoek, I was alone.

Truly alone.

I sat quietly and thought.

Maybe my aunt was not the devil my family had described.

Maybe she was just strict.

Maybe she was protecting me.

It was around 17h00 when I realised I had not spoken to Ndjona-Top all day.

I needed to tell her something important.

That dragging me into her lifestyle was a mistake.

I went to the shop and bought N$100 airtime.

As I walked back, I counted the money again.

N$300 from my mother.

N$500 from my aunt.

N$4000 from Cota Ma-Cups.

N$6000 from Ndjona-Top’s purse.

N$10 800 in total.

I had never held that much money in my life.

My mother’s N$300 had been saved slowly in wrinkled N$10 notes.

This money felt powerful.

Was I becoming addicted?

Or was I just feeling what rich people feel every day?

Instead of shouting at my cousin, I texted her:

“I miss you, beautiful.”

“Thanks for last night. Best cousy in the world.”

Her phone was off.

I was not worried.

She knows how to survive.

I called my mother instead.

I told her only the good things.

That my aunt was kind.

That I had settled well.

I hid the truth.

Then the intercom rang.

“Hallo,” I answered.

“Hallo Muuax,” a man’s voice said.

“Yes, how may I help you?”

“Your aunt told me she is travelling. She asked me to check on you. My name is Mr. Mbaa.”

My heart skipped.

“Yes sir, she told me,” I replied.

I opened the gate using the remote.

I watched him walk in.

Then I froze.

It was him.

The police officer.

The same man who had taken my picture.

The same man who had blackmailed me.

Mr. Officer.

He smiled.

“May I come in?” he asked.

My legs felt weak.

“It is good your aunt is out of town,” he said softly. “Now we have time. Did you think about my offer?”

My heart felt like ice.

Then it began to melt into fear.

Life was just starting to feel balanced again.

And now this.

Christmas had arrived too early, but not for me.

For him.

And I stood there…

Like a snowman under the sun.

The End of Chapter Five

Wait for Part Six as A GIRL FROM EHOMBA MOUNTAIN WHO WANTS TO ACHIEVE SOMETHING continues…