Short Story: Genocide – The Collection of Debts

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Short Story:  Genocide – The Collection of Debts

Ruben Kapimbi

That sun-up, the auctioneer, Mr Werner – dressed in a white ankle-length robe – set up his nylon hut. The curled-hair fellow gummed a 10-cow paper on a steel wagon. Instantly, the onlookers patted the green-yellowish wagon. 

“Ten cows!” barked the trader, as the bystanders babbled.  “Ten cows for a steel cart?” asked the chief. “Your feet have bubbles,” said the seller, pouring paraffin on the chief’s worn-out rubbery sandals. Then, the chief signalled three muscular men to bring 10 cows. 

“I’ll own this wagon,” the chief said, giggling. Soon, the servants hooked four curved-horned bulls to the animal-drawn car. The tacked-up bulls pulled the wagon towards Okahandja. Atop the skidding wagon, the chief numbered the dancing hills. Furthermore, a number of bare-chested teens waved naked-neck roosters, and swapped the castrated capons for syrupy gums. Yet, a gang of dark-skinned men exchanged black-headed sheep for bags of snuffy leaves. Most toddlers chewed the sugared gums, and grounded sticky-lollipops. Now a troop of men swap white hair goats for greenish bottles of brandy.

Later, the purveyor traded off cube-like sugar for red goats. Some women switched their mountainous goats for stainless steel green-and-red teacups. 

“I’m tired of goat-skin skirts,” Sarah said, and tore up her skirt. “It’s one brown-red cow for each twisted fabric,” said the seller. The salesperson sold rainbow fabrics on credit. “There’ll be interest,” said Mr Werner. 

Soon, Sarah handpicked lime-green fabrics and sew a Victorian style dress. Afterwards, many newlyweds flocked to Sarah’s hut and borrowed some multicoloured dresses. It became stylish for fiancées to expect silver-and-crystal earrings from the grooms. 

A month later, the natives had taken tons of fabrics and rectangular-shaped cases of straw-yellow brandy on credit. Mr Werner alerted the police that the natives were playing hide-and-seek with him. The whiskery beard trader showed up, guarded by the trigger-happy firing squad. 

Soon, the natives littered the village with empty bottles of brandy. Most of the trader’s interests in the pounds of fabrics and bottles of brandy included a one-year-old calf. 

Finally, he commandeered 300 curved-horned cows from the natives. The military police kept an eye on the debts’ repayment before the looming deadline of 10 October 1903. The seller signalled the police to handcuff the defaulters, and bullied the debtors to frame the rail tracks.

 

* Ruben Kapimbi hails from Okangeama in Otjituuo. He is a fifth-generation offspring of the genocide. This story is historical fiction.