Kambangane’s heart skips a beat, and he falls from his cheetah-skin armchair. Rumours had spread like bushfire that the worn-to-strips trouser Katjemambo had won R20 000 after spotting a ticket while stirring a three-legged pot of porridge. This was the first time that Katjemambo bought maize meal, as he often begged Kambangane for churned milk that was reserved for the hunting dogs.
The poor man lived in a bedbug-infested hut or slept inside Kambangane’s kraal, which was built with red bricks. Inside the five-star kraal, he hid himself against the bucketing rain or tree-tearing whirlwind. The beggar winning the lotto maddened Kambangane, who rolled in the ash like a mule.
“ I have been pumping money into shops,” he cried, ripping his khaki shirt apart. The potbelly man drove his 1986 Datsun bakkie and bought 10 bags of maize meal. He poured the maize and peered through the bags but couldn’t spot any plastic card. His lips shivered while emptying the bags in the middle of the gravel road.
Soon, the mountain of maize meal attracted green and yellow birds. Dozens of pigeons came as far as Okavisume for the feast. The ballooned tummy man bribed the villagers that he would buy maize for them without charging the R50 for transport. Most of the bedridden villagers kissed his crocket’s shoes because he was the only vehicle owner in Okoruhere.
Before the sun rays kissed the tree canopies, Kambangane drove to Otjivanda and bought 20kg bags of maize meal. Then he parked the bakkie under a shadowy tree and emptied the bags into a 200-litre drum filled with water. He combed the maize meal with his fingers, for any lottery ticket to float on the water. Immediately, he banged his head against the steering wheel and sobbed.
“Why would a beggar win money?” he asked, smashing the windscreen with his fists. He revved the bakkie and quizzed the tellers, “Is your promotion only for the poor”.The popped-eyed tellers nodded and pointed at a wall-size poster of a nicotine-teeth beggar wearing a blue sandal and a red sneaker who had won R50 000.
Kambangane kicked the teller’s machines and scattered jingling coins on the floor. At the village, a crowd of dried-lips men asked him for their bags of maize. The next day, he jumped into the maize silo, looking for promotion tickets. However, the powdery maize meal blocked his nose. Finally, he passed on while inside the grain tower. That Sunday, Katjemambo recited his uncle’s obituary and inherited Kambangane’s wives.