19/06/2022
...Then there was a party 3
Simon’s invitation to swim made my mind to race and my blood to boil a bit. Yes, we had many big rivers around us. Nyawamba, the home to the range-restricted Wamba birds, was just a stone’s throw away. We could hear its flowing waters from home and could make interpretations on whether it was calm or agitated. Sometimes the water, and the fish, would be spilt into the fields around – causing us to lose the promising crop to floods. The survivors would have anoxia and hypoxia waiting for them. Perhaps, that’s why the Agricultural extension officers would insist on cultivating at least 30m from these rivers. The fertilizers were, almost always, washed into the rivers. The plants will be starved, the river would be poisoned. The harvest diminished. But we never paid attention. All the blame was hurled at misfortunes, witchcraft and some weeds. Very particular weeds. Tsangadzi, nyakanzungu and ruhwani. These two culprits would fight the crops on all fronts. They competed for nutrients and water and even caused unnecessary overcrowding in the field. A few weeks after invasion, the crops, especially maize, would give in. The leaves would turn yellow and start wilting. Water and fertilizer supplements would not make any difference. The damage would have been made.
Still gazing at Nyawamba, the very first river that I had grown to love, I saw Simon readying to jump in the water. He was a flexible guy. Although I was the team captain for PE, he was the most valuable assert we had. He could sit at 180 degrees. We called it palace. He could ‘walk’ with his arms, head down and legs stretched up. He could dive and spin. As his captain, by virtue of discipline and a handful of skills, I really wanted to see him flourish. But we had limited exposure. We had no resources. We would march and jump barefooted. The ropes that we used were fresh from the Brachstygia trees around. We would bark the trees and weave the ropes. We made almost everything that we wanted for PE. But when it came to swimming, Simon did not need anything. After stripping his shirt, he gave me a signal to do the same then he dived in the water. He disappeared. I hesitated taking off my shirt. I stood still, scanning the river. Where was he? Then he emerged holding some sediments from the riverbed. “Come!” he called me. In a moment, the pond was full. It was a unisex swimming pond, both boys and girls were right in there.
It took me a few minutes to unfasten the 5 buttons on my shirt. My hands were sweaty, complementing my heart which was pounding fast. I was going to do it but I wasn’t sure of the outcome. The story of the children who drowned kept on coming back. They had come, in high spirits, to play, but they could not make it back home. Was I going to be a statistic as well? After what seemed like eternity, with my mind still wandering far and wide, I finally removed my shirt. I looked for Simon, he had crossed to the other side of the river. I decided to take my chances. I jumped into the water. It was really refreshing. I really needed this. Then I felt the urge to stand and catch a breath because I felt like I wasn’t breathing properly. And, that was a mistake. I could not get on the riverbed yet I was now submerged in the water. Now I couldn’t even breathe. Voices of other kids having fun were now faint and distant. I tried to scream but only managed to gulp a ‘few cups’ of some dirty water. I needed to act fast or die trying. Gathering all the strength that I had, I pushed myself up and out of the water. Someone saw me and the screams started. Arikumwira! He is drowning. Indeed, I was drowning. Three guys, including Simon, got into action.
A few moments later, I was brought out and instructed to lie down. Simon disappeared into the water and brought some sand. I knew this part very well. It was part of the stories we were always told at home. ‘If you rescue someone from drowning, check if their stomach is not swollen from too much water. Then, hit them with sand to induce vomiting. That way, you would save a life.’ I saw Simon approaching, armed with the first aid sand. I quickly got up, coughed and sneezed a bit before assuring everyone that I was fine. “Are you sure, because if we don’t do this, you will die even at home?” Death didn’t scare as much as being hit by sand so I guaranteed everyone that I was fine. “If I feel worse, grandma will use the sand at home”, I said knowing my grandmother was never going to harm. Just like that, the swimming revelry was over. We got dressed and left. Although I was frightened by this near-death encounter, in the back of my mind I was like, ‘I will try again tomorrow’.
To be continued...
