Noah and Mozambique

Yamikani looked up. “There are no clouds though.” He said to his mother. “And it is even hot. Why are we moving?”

His mother was packing away essentials in wrapped up chitenjes, until they were bulging like overripe fruit. Yamikani had a feeling her was going to have to help carry those. She stood up and frowned, looking around. “Yamikani find that big plastic sheet your father brought last month. Ya Airtel.”

Yamikani knew the one, it was an old promotion for Airtel Money which used to hang over the highway. Yamikani’s father had found the city workers as they were taking it down for disposal and had asked for it. The family had already used it several times; to lay on the dusty ground at his aunt’s funeral for the women to sit on, it was hung between two containers as shade when his father was setting up a temporary appliance repair station in Ndirande for a week.  

But he had no idea where it was. “Ama, the Gondwes say that the radio is wrong. Last time they said there would be heavy rains, but it was in Mozambique instead.”

“Yamikani, get the plastic!”

“Why are we moving?” he insisted in his stubborn way.

His mother sighed. He was getting big now, less inclined to listen. She stopped and turned to him, a tired hand on her hip. “It is better to be ready, and be wrong, than to be caught by surprise.”

“But if we are wrong, we would have wasted time, and a chance to sell at the market,” he insisted.

“We can sell another day-” she began. He cut her off.

“But when we’re away thieves can steal our property!”

His mother stared at him. “What is this really about? Why is your heart so passionate about this?”

Yamikani glanced to the side, avoiding eye contact. “The other boys were making fun of us last time… calling us aku Mozambique. Saying that our relatives in Mozambique were in the floods that’s why we were also running away from floods even though the rain didn’t come.”

She broke into a smile and chuckled.

“It’s not funny aMa! Now I can’t even walk past without them pretending to talk Portuguese to me.” The memory of it was making his palms sweat in frustration. No amount of shouting or threatening to throw rocks at them helped. In fact they laughed even louder, yelling “nkhondo ku Mozambique!” as they ran away.

“And what’s wrong with being from Mozambique?” asked his mother.

He saw the twinkle in her eyes. She was teasing him too. “aMa…” he whined in protest.

She tilted her head. “Don’t worry about those things, my child. If you remember your Bible, they also laughed at Noah when he built his big boat.”

Yamikani groaned. Not the Bible verses. If his mother had her way, he would be going to those boys holding a Bible and saying nothing but verses to them. She continued and from experience he knew it was faster just to let her finish.

“When he told them what he was doing they laughed. When he asked them to help they laughed, and when he went inside to wait for the rains they laughed. You know what happened after that.”

“Yes I do.”

She looked at him expectedly until he sighed and recited, “And then the rains came down and flooded the whole Earth and those who had not heeded the warnings drowned.”

His mother nodded, then stood up, as if the verse prompted her previous busyness. “Now, get that plastic sheet.”

“Yes Ma” he grumbled.

It was late afternoon when they had everything they needed. His father arrived to help carry the chitenje’s and Yamikani rolled up the plastic and carried it on his head, draping it over a little so his face would be hidden when they began their procession. A few other families were doing the same, but most of them showed no signs of going anywhere. The plan was to seek shelter on the hill, on an area where the land was a bit flatter, and wait until the storm passed.

As they passed the market, Yamikani heard chants about Mozambique and covered he ears tighter with the plastic, keeping his eyes on his mother and father’s footsteps.

The climb was slow and tiring, and mother asked to rest a few times. It was completely dark by the time they reached the place – too dark for dusk at this time of year. Yamikani looked up, and heavy black clouds were rolling in.

His father rushed them to set up the shelter quickly, putting the plastic sheet over everything. Fat raindrops already started falling. Yamikani frantically helped, using the torch his father had repaired for him. His mother set up a radio, where the announcements and warnings to take shelter came on all stations.

They all huddled together in blankets as they braced themselves for the storm.

Yamikani couldn’t help but think this was far from Noah’s ark… but far below, the rivers would be rising… despite the hard time they had given him, he couldn’t help worrying about the people who had ignored the warning. With the homes so close to the river, and the groundwater table high, water would be rising and falling on them at the same time.

The storm raged for 2 days, making it hard to believe there was even this much water in Lake Malawi itself! When the rain finally stopped and they came down, some shops were completely submerged. Their home was hard to find and was amongst other houses that collapsed, unable to hold against such forces.

His mother walked amongst it with her hand over her mouth, unable to believe it. Yamikani met one of the boys who had teased him. He was no longer laughing and reported that his little sister was missing. Yamikani joined to help find her, but asked them to wait for him to fetch his Bible.