The Holy Hell House_ A short story

                               THE HOLY HELL HOUSE   by Cédrick_Irakoze

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Evenings were just unimaginable. There was no right to wait for nights to blow in and go hide in the bubble-like cages, most of them covered by herbs from the forest of snakes. Nights were just a promised hell for those who have an idea. Anyway, this part was better than the other from the second edge of the river, the magical one from which no herd could drink for unless it was at its last citizenship encounter. This was also not usual as no child could dream of swimming in it. Not always hated, however, it was also a source of abundant harvests. One part of the plane was always flower-like; it fed people and savages in the area. Mother was the name of the plane and everybody was proud of being born somewhere it was located.

The other side was unique, for not even ten people in the village had ever been there. It was known to become darker from midday, while an endless bright smoke was a feature those who had never experienced the crossing could use to describe it. The night out there was just terrible, the darkness that turned heavens into hells and seas into deserts. It was a very heightened mount to the extent that even people could not describe where the inexorable woods finished their growth. The inhabitants were the most feared animals in the region as owls_ that could come tonight to announce the departure of one’s life and they had never failed to convert syllables into acts. What people knew that much about was the unearth tunes that were always being played, but who could dance a beat from the unknown drummer?

Very often, the earth quaked and people enjoyed watching the dance of the magic-like plants they could see. However, why could those quakes not cross the river and approach the villagers from where they hid? Those who were unable to recount their experience once there held the answer. Very few leaders of the clan, but the most special was a witch doctor who had superpowers in the village. Everybody feared him. Who should not humble himself in front of a man able to stop the rain and bring it back whenever he and his masters wished?

Muvyeyi was such a village beauty and every respected man could ask for her hand. She had refused them, she had also refused the witch. Her father ordered it and she rejected it. Horror to her; this is just when the misfortune and weird world disturbances are booked for you alone and no relative_ even your own parent or child if you are so lucky to have one; where the human touch is still in the lexicon_ can acknowledge you in the assembly. She was just abandoned and by an excess of pity given a small hurt called “Agahundwe” far away from the family compound not because she had missed a life partner, but because her father wanted to give her to a witch doctor whom she had refused categorically. “I would rather see my corpse decaying”_ she told her father as he decided to deliver her to the wilderness with all the witch-powers from the swamp next to her hurt. She was then abandoned in the middle of the forest where her hut was.

A younger woman, Munezero, whose choice was not as for others, only knew her forgotten cage. She could not let her friend of infancy be made a hermit monster with her beauty and kindness, which shone in the eyes of her acquaintances. Humble, but not timid with a revolutionary character for no one girl in the traditional bounds was able even to dream of disagreeing with her parents, especially her father. Her uniqueness, her rebellious belief then gave people the right to see her not as a territorial child, but a troubled importer who was almost ready to bring a curse on the community. Very few women whose powers were as strong as babbling babies’ should say it when gathering together on farms, but to influence their husbands and the father of Muvyeyi was a mystery. No one could spell a word about that. After a very long time, some hiding few women could dare go and pay that lonesome and daring woman_ the rock_ a visit. That comforted her and she abandoned her longtime planned life-taking. She began to zoom a spark of more shinning tomorrow, the smiling face of her ever-darkened soul, her broken heart, her not sure living self.

Her best friend of childhood, Munezero had promised her a daily prayer because it also hurt her to see Muvyeyi in such a horrible open prison, a gate open to all wild creatures in the midst of a most feared environment where spirits had made their home. But where did woods be harmful, rose wild, lambs unkind, and uncorrupt love of nature the unique rail to the gates of hell? When all human’s enmity found harmony with her, who could predict her grave not carrying a pleasant seed, but from what burial to come forth? Scars that eternally feel pain, as if they do never cohabitate with joy. No big deal, she swallowed the prey that was ready, no matter how sour it was.

Super annoyed by the past she could not recall, nor the future she knew nothing about. From the frying pan into the fire, she was deprived of any sense to foresee… no black art to keep her one second in thought. A virtue of rarity, not always born giants, yet even in this case ignored for being stepped down by cowards. Unclean limbs just to cross through. Oooooh poor name, yet a to-be cherished rocky generational spring is still confined to an unrecognizable hole you could only dream about.

This day, a day without sunlight, without birds singing, without kids playing and joking around in the village, the darkness covered the skies from dawn until dusk. Unusual sounds, as though she was not accustomed to watching from good festivities that were held in the village. At least she could recall some from her very childhood. It was as strange as a dream, but not attempting to one’s blow of mind, it was more terrible than the day skies would be crushed on the world. A man of spirit was hooking around in a bubble-like hut that did not even have a second door. The window, a wickerwork circular thing looking like nothing at all. She looked through and she did not drop a tear. What could threaten a heart that had died a long time before, whose human value had been wasted and thrown away? In one word for a grace prayer, consciousness said good-bye. The master entered, but who told you he was alone? Spirits from all highs and downs without sizeable accounts were escorting him. Was this the last one for Muvyeyi’s faked dignity and sense of sorrowful smiles?

Munezero did not walk around for a few days and nothing could tally the number of days the man stayed. Bad was her unable hand in the case she could come. Worse when looking at something whose nothingness is far more meaningful and important than its fullness. Worst is when looking at something more meaningful with eyes that do not see, the same as many people may look with an eye believed to see, but with a so darkened heart that cannot allow the eye to perform its duty. Munezero was, in case she moved, a candidate to one of the above trials. Death does not always invite for jubilations as it does for mourning. It was as if nothing had happened and the powerful woman did not tell any small bird about the vicious guest. The news was too lousy to be broadcasted and there was nothing to care about. Who could tell even when it was worth it?

A few months later, a new guest was around an angel. An angel fruit from a devil seed. Yes, not always in our corrupt imagination, but at least this account. An innocent boy, not so wished, but also not to be buried alive. It was not just a spirits’ pact, but surely a strong sense of motherhood. One tale said that a wolf has never failed to bruise a lamb unless it is that it calves. Muvyeyi then had a strong reason to keep and protect her angel from hell. It grew up faster and no one other than her best friend knew about her child’s father. “Only spirits can do that to someone like her. Where could she meet a man and whatever she had sacrificed for not being wed?”_ People could gossip in the village. It's just a mystery to look in the eyes of a silent, dumb and blind man and expect a description of whatever happened in his presence a thousand years ago.

All that can be seen must not always be seen, for also what can be seen is not always seen. No wonder, the beauty, the strengths that people around Muvyeyi did not see were her hidden and genuine treasures. She is committed to keeping the kid growing and feeding him with a positive mindset that the best revenge for the ones who did him bad is doing them good at least one day. Make them smile and see what the hell they feel delved into. She took care of him and brought him to school. She knew she had no one around and the witch doctor had died one month before he was born. She named him MABINKUNDA; literally translating into “The evil I love”. Her father had sworn to kill her mother once he heard she was trying to help her daughter in any way. What decision could a woman make? Nothing, but only to abide by the dictates of the king husband. There's no reason to think about what logic in it, submission and executing was the very first reaction of a woman in case the husband’s decision was voiced out.

Bwiza was a classmate of MABI and they grew up together until their local schooling was over. Both passed the test and they were sent very far to pursue their studies. The war kicked off and they dropped from their schools as they returned home. It was bad at the time. A friend on the day became the number one enemy at night. Adults were told to hate, to envy, and even to kill others. Children and adolescents like Mabi and Bwiza could not understand how one could rejoice taking others’ lives from them simply because they were from different origins (with different heights and looks). Who had chosen his family, place of birth, or language and therefore…? Hhhhh I just forgot the following. People killed one another and the village became a river where blood flowed day and night. No sense of humanity among siblings. Lions migrated, folks and owls owned the skies, and singing birds were forgotten.

Terror became part of the village itself and the ones who could find a window out sneaked away. Mabi fled the country through the North and Bwiza joined his neighbors throughout the South. When a wind throws you to the right, the mystery is to wake up being on the left after consciousness comes back. It was at night, darker than in the forest of the snakes. Running away was not so difficult, but the way out from the borders was. They might swim and get on the other banks. Mabi almost drowned and the river thrust him on the other side. What luck! For the fire that was burning in their country, the only prayer he had was, in case of death, to be carried onto the other shore. Things turned in the way they might and he did not die, death is not always at service, especially when he is the most invited guest of honor.

Getting out, things were strange. A big city with big houses and nice bridges and highways became his home. Yes, he called it his home as if he had any fame there. Everything was new in his life. He was tempted to make a comparison on things he could see. He knew that, at home, they had nights covering almost twenty-four hours, when the sun rose two or so hours from noon and the darkness from the forest of the snakes came back to cover the village. On the other hand, these people were so crazy, industrious, productive, and their nights were as bright as their days. They had created their own sun_ as he could imagine. In all that he was interested in, he tried to get a small window to pass through so that he could get into contact with native people living there. His actions, however, were too trivial to interest them. Can a decision of an ant influence one of the antelopes simply because they share the path? Fortunately, he was, almost everyone who met him got interested in him. His behavior, his kindness and the way he was so quick doing tasks he was assigned. He got a job as a cook in the house of a businessperson. That one was very rich, widely known and respected. “What can you cook?”_ the boss asked. He answered “Everything if I am taught to. I am very smart about learning and I know everything will be all right.” The famous man smiled, telling him to wait for someone who could teach him. His smiling back was like forcing himself to. Possibly, he had problems with his jaws and he could not wide open his mouth.

He majestically explored the big house with three bedrooms. The furniture and things in the house were too much as he thought it was a store of things that were going to be sold. For the first time in his life, he saw a sofa, a fridge, a cooker, a washing machine, a sink, a big television, glasses, and a rug. There were bedrooms, a sitting room, a kitchen, a very big dining room, and a nice swimming pool in front of the house. All beautiful and very clean. The smell was very good and he wished he had grown up in such a wonderful paradise. He had the task of keeping them clean as he had found them. Many things were, however, not so boring for him to do because he used machines and while playing the music that he liked to be listening to and dancing to. Life has meaning. The only problem was when he thought of his mum, Mama Mabi, the only person on the earth that cared about him. He could stop all that he was busy with and think_ ten minutes, twenty, thirty… but what should he do? No more than a prayer so that God could keep her healthy.

His job was perfectly done and the boss could come and find him lost in a jungle of thoughts. He asked him what the matter was and the boy replied “Nothing, Sir. I am alright” He thought that it was not important to show everyone a dagger in one’s heart since you do not know what he is going to do with it. The question was if the boss was everyone. He cared about him, asking what was going good and bad, bringing him out on the weekends as if he was his own child. A father he had never known in his life, an angel from heaven that could take care of the most ignored. He had the heart of God. “Even though I did not yet see God with my eyes, I think he looks like this one. I do not understand how a man with fresh blood can take such care of an unknown stranger that has nothing. Perhaps it is the last conversation I had with my mum the very last day.”_ Talking to himself at home as he was waiting for his boss to come back.

The conversation he had with his mum should stay all day long and he felt as moved to the other side. He could not wish to remember the horrors of there, but thinking of his most loving and caring mother; he felt he had a responsibility to exchange with her soul.

“Go, go and be kept, my son. There is a valley of death in front of you, the one that accounts for your living and dying at the same time. If it throws you at the other bank, you will be a man, a lion, and a comforter to heal my wounds. If, however, it turns bad, you are thrown back here, in the homes of humans who eat other humans even when animals do not dare. You will be dead, and I will be, too. Because you are the only hope that can come to my life, I know God is your image. I know you will get out of this mess. I wish you the best. I am not glad you go far from me, but I am also glad since you go to seek the meaning of life, the meaning of what others may call life and you call it a forest in which you always fetch cursed wood with which swords against you are forged and you must do it. What others enjoy, but for you, it looks like you are being sucked out and it should be better to not have existed in the world of mockery and injustice. Never lose that sense of humility when things get better, but again when you cut the mustard, do not allow too much pride to define who you are. Do not worry about tomorrow, because you did not paint yesterday with the colors it had. Every cloud has a silver lining.” _ His mother had told him.

At last, she hugged her. This hug was not just a mere hug, it was a connection of both their spirits and it made both of them shed tears they had never known they had for all the years they had been together. They came apart for a time that might have been more than a decade or, if not, their whole life. Who among them programmed how long they had to stay alive again? So many death arrows were circulating around their heads.

One Friday evening, the boss got home and asked him if he could get ready for a talk outside their home. This man had become angrier with him. Not really because he hated him, but because he wanted to know his past and see if he could help him get out of the mess he had been, for all his life, living in. This time, Mabi opened his heart, for the first time to a stranger. He had principles he followed and nothing could change him. He talked very little about things that really mattered about him and his past.

The boss asked him, in a jocular and friendly tone, “Am I really the worst devil you have ever seen in this world? I, during the short time we spent together, realized that you have a world, a world you created for yourself and it is not so good for you at this young age. Because I am afraid it is helping you get better. I gave you almost the best of the things people need out in this city and you never seem to enjoy the least of them. I want to make you my child, bring you to school, and be the best father someone can ever be. I see a lot of good heart, future, responsibility, and care for others in you. These things, however, cannot happen and be a blessing to millions of people waiting for them unless you fill yourself with positivity. All that I want from you is to know that the world may have been not so good to you, but that you have to be better, consistent and diligent to lure happiness and laughter in the ones who need them the most.”

Tears were rolling down his cheeks as he screamed and apologetically confided in his new father. He told him everything he knew about his raising up, about his mother’s past, and about his fleeing from the country in which he had left the only treasure he had_ her mum. The boss promised to bring him back to school and wait until his country became more welcoming and peaceful so that he could accompany him home to see his mother. These were dreams coming true. The boy loved school so much; he had the vision to become more educated and help others live a life different from the one he had lived.

Hope, laughter, new attitudes, and a new way of approaching life became his characteristics. He studied so hard after resuming in his grade 7. He became even smarter than before. Everyone knew him_ teachers, students, and neighbors at home. He just found a home, not merely where someone wakes in the morning and waits for the night to sleep again. A world where people had affection for him, caring about his life. His home country, however, was still a pool of blood. It had become worse and worse as the days went on. He had hoped that his mother would be kept healthy before he went back. This was his daily prayer. His father loved him, treated him better and found much intelligence and potential in him. He sent him to college and he even graduated with good grades. After his graduation, a spark of peace lit up in his country and they plan to pay his mum a visit. Before going, the father (his new father) asked him to set up a new business once back in his country and he agreed.

Arriving at the airport, no one could recognize him as he had departed a long time ago. It was until they reached home that the father realized the love between the son and his mum. The way she dropped all that she had in her hands and fell on him was ever romantic. After a decade of his absence, her mother felt like he had never gone. The boy introduced the father and the mother was so happy to see such an angel. He was just a miracle she had told him the very day he left home.

He asked her about the village and she told him that many of the people he had known had died including his grandparents. His childhood best friend had become one of the top officials after fighting in the war. Everyone feared him, even in the village. His parents could hide when they heard him coming because he had become a living devil. Taking people’s properties, killing people, sleeping with women by terror, every single evil was best known to him.

The following day, the mother, Mabi, and the father moved to the city. A beautiful house was found and the boy took the opportunity to thank his mother. There was no price worth of what she had done to him, but she enjoyed seeing her son becoming someone happy. For the boy, the happiness was not in the fame he had but in the laughter, he could see in her mother’s face. It was more lovely than any other thing on the earth_ looking at someone who almost lost his life for yours laughing and praying so that he can die at the very moment because extreme joys do not last forever. The father said much, but one of the important words that got engraved in the boy’s heart was: “Sometimes God uses extreme circumstances to make us understand that we do not own the world, but it becomes more meaningful when we share the good moments with the most loved ones. So that we may acknowledge that we were simply made bridges between those who gave us and made others seek from us. We do not know the real worth of that we badly need until we see them in our hands and, we also do not really know what we owned until they fade away.”_ The father said.

The mum definitely understood the wisdom her son had been being fed from such a kind and wise man. She felt so excited and she said that only God could find a reward for all that he had done for her son. It was incredible to have such an honest and sincere conversation between the three. The following day, they both went to pay Bwiza a visit.

In his top security villa in the view of the lake, he received them. Strange was the way they were checked five times from the external gate to the sitting room where he was seated. Tens of soldiers, with terroristic armor, were the ones you could see and hear talking on their security radios. No kids playing, talking or even crying. Talking, crying or even laughing with a voice that could be heard from out was death prevailing. The wife was always chained for not going out to meet others that could corrupt her. Going to church, she had to ask for special permission and that was no more than once a month. Shopping and Bwiza might accompany her and watch everything. Money was plenty there, but they could eat delicacy once a month and drink nice juice twice a month; no one could watch TV unless he, himself, turned it on. He brought journals and books that talked about the exploits of his war companions and nothing else was allowed to be read there. He had shot his own oldest son died while he escaped from school to his sick classmate’s home as they paid him a visit. For him, no apology, no room for emotion, no kindness. The only thing he was interested in was his money, whatever way he got it was not to bother about. He could sacrifice a hundred people’s lives to get a single one hundred banknote.

“What the hell is this house!” The father said that after they were escorted back until the neighborhood-entering avenue so that they could not even take a single picture. All were disappointed, especially Mabi who had shared his childhood with him. He cautioned his “Son” against making any kind of deal with him and he understood. The following day was the departure of Mabi and “his father” so that he could go and bring the very first goods for his business. The mother was left there and her son could come back in one week.

After departing from his home, Bwiza prepared a severe attack on the new house of Mabi. He suspected him of spying. His people invaded the house and burned it. Mabi’s mother and two domestics died in the house and the criminals disappeared before the police arrived. But what could the police do once they knew that the men were sent by Bwiza? The best thing the commander should do was to charge the criminality of someone else and confirm with all confidence and insurance that he was the perpetrator. Everything might go that way. The bad news reached Mabi in a foreign country with his father. They both became short of words and a feeling of disgust and depression grew in Mabi. His father tried to calm him down and they immediately booked a flight for burying and mourning. They also remembered that people had warned them against paying Bwiza a visit. They had told them that he would never let people come between him and his bloody deals. They do not yet know the proof, though. No one knew better than his envoys and himself.

Every plan of opening the business in his country was spoiled. He noted a found reason not to kiss a burning fire. Suspected his old friend to have done all that believing he was there, they also entered with special security agents. Not even one night spent in there, they returned in the country of the boss the same day. Mabi was so upset that no one could see him dropping one tear. He understood that very time after more than a decade the statement of his boss that the world does not always have to be fair so that we become happy. That we would rather have the responsibility to create our own way of approaching and appreciating things, turning negativity into positivity. He was mouth-glued at that moment and he could not imagine how he lost someone who was going to queen in his kingdom. They went back and no one was talking to the other.

A few months later, a new mayor was sworn in. This was a man of integrity. He had one major mission_ to break and weaken all the criminals, drug dealers, tax escapers, and all other individuals that had transformed the city into a hellfire. The wife of Bwiza was depressed by the terror under which she lived. She became a little more decisive to flee herself and hundreds of others who had been victimized by her husband’s cruelty. This was not to succeed if she told it to anybody else. She made it a secret and she just agreed to follow her oldest son’s path, he had warned her. She made a hard decision and convinced herself that many others’ lives at risk mattered more than her own life. This is called heroism, yes, she did not want to avenge her lovely son but liberate at least the soul of her husband. She began by praying day and night.

This time it got stranger, very weird and nothing was understandable once told to the one who had known him before. It was just beyond human imagination, a human brain is so small to get through his huge trauma. A man that everyone respected, a man of honors, when getting to his neighborhood, everyone should go to hide. What was uneasy to account for was the way that everyone_ old and young_ seemed to love him, yes to fear him. Military, civilians, business people, government officials… If he suspected you, you were gone. Even the pastors, the men and women of God at his church have claimed a seat in front as he went twice a year (at Easter and on Christmas). “Who told you he is a Christian like others? He gave much to tithe, who could make him get upset?” _One churchgoer could think aloud. In addition, who knew how much blood he had shed for the riches he had? Who knew how many innocent mums and children that were deprived of the right to live with their husbands and fathers_ their most loved ones? Even when known, who could say what? That daring and suicidal liar, when signing that pact with Lucifer, should look around until he sees no one, no bird, no insect, nothing living or even the wind that could carry the secret in the big ears.

He was not a mere listener, because he had a staff as huge, skilled, and equipped as the one with which Satan surrounds himself. What was the matter? Money or wages to pay for them? He had everything, but the sense of human, the spirit of a living creature with a brain and a heart. He had dehumanized his person and he thought that he could not even be forgiven. “And if they talk of God and angels, always calling ME for repentance, I only realize that there are also a thousand devils claiming my soul. The voice that became my music of all time…This is not, however, as important as I know all my servants and cowards around are always singing me, singing my mighty, singing that I let live that who pleases me and let die that who does not. I am more than a child crying for what is not merry to him, but I learned to dance to what music beat I hear. I am unconquerable! What is that noise for? I am a monster!”_ Bwiza talking to himself

He was accustomed to going into the cage hidden back in the yard and talking to his unknown friends. It was no longer possible. He entered the hut and came to a woman he had raped and killed ten years ago. With big red eyes, as big as open windows. He could be seen inside the womb through his eyes. How scarce! Was he not accustomed? Maybe his powers were shrinking. She asked him for water and he gave her blood, she disappeared from the wall. Yes, he had become an unreal human for his relations with spirits but he liked it. When he tried to get out, he stepped on a black snake and voices told him, so loudly, “It is over now. Go down and get sucked, stink alive, it is enough”. A thousand-ghost-made hymn was sung and he could no longer understand the kind of language he had been babbling about for decades. Strange morns, howls and agony cries of a hundred babies were raised high in the mansion. Babies who had died some years ago… some of them he could only remember parents he had slaughtered. An extremely terrible light came in the blackened room where he was sitting. He summoned his spirits up. No answer. The blood in his limbs congealed. He lay down and spent all night there being tortured again beyond mankind's knowledge to describe. He screamed so loudly and the wife heard it, but could she enter the cave? He had warned her that once she entered, she was dead. She fooled the guards and told them that the husband was so bad that she needed to go alone and bring some medicines.

They let her out and she went directly into the mayor’s office. Crying, she told him that she could not go back home and that they might do something to protect her life. She knew he had to slaughter her pitilessly_ as a hungry crocodile came crashing into small fish after a three-day fasting. Fortunately, he was the No. 1 on the top 10 list of “most wanted”. The mayor called on a military officer and they organized a coup to his house in Bwiza. Only well-trained snipers went on the mission. I was not babysitting to send anyone. A whole battalion for one man. He was not one as tens of guards were well prepared for defense. Again, spirits were around as they thought through these had already abandoned him. He has frustrated them and violated the pact. They are more than just.

No one bullet got out of the gun; more than professional were they! They took him and all his guards to court testimonies. His home prisoners were also liberated. The story was spread everywhere in the town and in the neighboring countries. Newspapers had the only one heading “The Monster Fantastic Fall”. Mass demonstrations invaded the streets claiming his execution. The court trial was made during a two-day period in which he was accused of hundreds of deaths and rapes, together with tens of charges. He has inflicted a death penalty and all the people around claimed “more than his head”. What could be worse than that?

His wife clowned for courage, the daring heart and people celebrated her as a hero. She and at least hundreds of people. The other one around was Mabi and his father. They had come to verify if ever he was the one responsible for the mother’s death and it was affirmed. He made a decision to bring some of his businesses and give the first jobs to those touched by his friend’s cruelty. He was the other one to celebrate! Bwiza’s wife also decided the same. She projected creating and funding charity organizations, especially orphans and widows who were victims of her husband’s acts. They built a partnership not only to heal the wounds that were still bleeding but to at least take care of the scars that people were carrying.

Peace reigned in the city and all the criminals were caught. Justice happened to have its real meaning, treating the rich as it did for the poor. Everyone could get the worth reward for his actions. Trade developed more than ever, people felt their true and genuine citizenship. Otherwise, they had been made refugees in their own country. Hermits in their own crowded companies. 

END!

                                           THE HOLY HELL HOUSE by Cédrick Irakoze.

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