The Bullet

Jabu’s day had fallen apart after he found his fiancé Thandi behind the tavern with Kenny. Humiliated he remembered the kick that Thandi had planted on his manhood when he had tried to choke her lover.

Sitting on a filthy reed mat Jabu stared into the face of the ancient Sangoma. Blind eyes rolled back as she waved a leather sack in the noxious smoke of the burning herbs. Beside the Sangoma sat the child who had tugged on Jabu’s torn sleeve and brought him to the squalid shack.

The Sangoma began to chant in the language of the Ancestors, slamming the leather pouch into Jabu’s chest, winding him. A strange collection tumbled out of the bag: tiny bones, an old bottle cap, a rusted nail and in the centre of the confusion - sparkling in the poor light - a bullet.

“She has been bewitched by the devil. The ancestors will curse them both.” The Sangoma shrieked and began to babble in the strange language again. Abruptly she splashed Jabu with water taken out of a filthy bottle and fell silent. The child gestured to Jabu that it was time to leave. As Jabu tossed some money onto the mat, the Sangoma grabbed his arm and pressed something into his hand.

Finally outside Jabu open his hand and found the bullet. The bullet began to grow warmer, heating up until it burnt his hand. Crying out in pain Jabu dropped the bullet as a gunshot roared.

A hush fell over the township and a terrible cry echoed through the silence.
“Oh Kenny! My son Kenny!”

Jabu stood up, dusted himself off and slipped the cool bullet into his pocket. A smile teased the corners of his mouth, as he listened to the distant sound of women singing mourning songs.


Word Count: 300