THE FIRST OF MANY

“Is it recording?”

The elderly woman tapped the phone screen and nodded, watching the young man adjust his sweater and go over his notes one more time before he looked up. He squinted at first, and then covered his eyes.

“The flashlight is on,” he said as he went over to her.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said as she handed him the device. She watched him switch to the video mode and chuckled.

“You youngsters and your technology. We never had any of these when we grew up,” she mused as he smiled.

“I can only imagine,” he added, “so back in your day, was the sky sepia-toned?”

“This is me, hysterically laughing,” she said, stone-faced.

“This is me, proud of myself,” he said as he patted her on the back and stood in front of the camera, cleared his throat, and spoke.

“Good morning, everyone. This is Nanda Musimbi reporting for The Voice of Kenya. Following the numerous reports of a human trafficking ring operating right here in the heart of the Inanga forest, I decided to come here myself to verify them. With me is a witness named…”

“Oh, I’m Mama Shianda,” she said, turning the camera to herself then back to him.

“With Mama Shianda here, we’ll uncover the truth about the disturbing business that has been hidden from us for all this time, and hopefully we’ll get the authorities involved.”

She smiled at him as he walked to her and took the phone.

“Quite confident, for a scrawny fellow like yourself,” she joked as she poked him, “do you even eat?”

“I eat when I’m hungry. Anyway, madam, could you lead the way?”

With that, he locked his car as they stepped into the deep of the forest. Watching his every step, he struggled to keep up with her as she treaded easily, even jumping in some areas.

“Did you grow up here?” he asked her.

“I moved around a lot, but I lived in such areas,” she said as she scaled a boulder with ease and stood atop it, extending her hand towards him, all while he stared.

“You’re quite strong for your age,” he remarked as he took her hand, grunting as he got to the top of the boulder.

“And you’re too weak for yours,” she said, “are you sure you’re one of us?”

“Those are stereotypes. I don’t eat all the time.”

“Clearly. Do you have someone in your life?” she probed on, eyes fixed on his.

“I do – I mean, I did. A while ago, it ended though,” he said as he stared past her, reminiscing on what he considered his best memories.

“What happened?” she asked as they kept going.

“We wanted different things. I wanted a life companion, and she wanted someone else,” he stated, his voice sharper and more direct, resonating the pain he hadn’t yet let go of.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yes, well, it was probably for the best.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t because you don’t eat well?” she asked. He turned to her, shaking his fists.

“Could you please drop it?”

“I’m just asking. If you don’t eat, you have no energy. And if you have no energy, then you can’t perform…”

“That’s enough of that,” he interrupted.

“I’m just a concerned kukhu, that’s all…”

“Wait.”

“Someone has to be concerned for your sake, kijana…”

“Listen! Did you hear that?” he asked, pointing to the trees before them. At the foot, from a thick bush emerged a cobra, hissing in fury as it rose.

‘Oh God,’ he mouthed as he took a step back. The serpent slithered menacingly towards them, eyes fixed on Nanda. His feet felt like jelly and his arms were soaked in sweat as he stood in front of the elderly woman, trying his best to protect her. Then, in an instant, the snake turned and went back into the bush.

He felt a wave of relief sweeping over him as he sat on a nearby rock to catch his breath. He saw the old woman hold her jaw as she closed her mouth.

“Are you…”

“I’m fine,” she cut him off; “I shouldn’t have tried to scream. At this rate, my jaw will fall off.”

“Don’t you worry, madam. There are wearable jaws that you can use anytime you want to talk. I can get you one when we’re done here,” he said as he laughed. She chuckled slightly and walked past him, saying:

“If.”

“That’s not funny,” he said as they went on. Down a gentle slope they went, where the forest cover increased as they waded deep into it.

“You know, I wasn’t even sure you’d show up,” she said.

“I had to.”

“Why?”

“No one else seems interested in reporting this news. I do.”

“And when you do break this story? What then?”

“Something good comes out of it, I hope.”

“For you, you hope. All the glory that comes from being one of the first to cover this, yes?” she asked.

“Whether I get credit for it isn’t my concern. You should be lucky that someone is here to begin with.”

“I am fortunate,” she sarcastically spoke, “a young amateur with a phone here to take on the world, and when he does, he has legions of fans waiting to prop him up as he convinces himself he’s one of the good guys.”

Nanda stopped briefly, taken aback by her words.

“Well, you’ve certainly done your homework on me, haven’t you?” he asked, ready to engage her.

“I know enough. The way you carry around that phone…”

“Five minutes is actually long enough to know a twenty- something year old’s life, but please, go on,” he interrupted. At this, she sighed and raised her hands at him.

“Alright, that was uncalled for,” she said.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

“I just need to be sure that you’re not another one of these, um, what do you call them? Cloud seekers?”

Nanda stifled laughter when she spoke, nodding as he corrected her.

“Clout chasers?”

“Yes, that’s it. I’m not yet convinced. How do I know you’re just not another one of those people who come here to report it first…”

“Those people?” Nanda asked as he held her arm, “others have come here with the same concern?”

The woman looked at him with a furrowed brow.

“I thought you told me…”

“Yes, I may have embellished for effect. Many have come to try and break this story, much like you. But I have never let them.”

“Why wouldn’t you? At the end of the day, it comes to light. Isn’t that what matters?” Nanda asked her, squinting as he observed the woman visibly struggling to speak.

“I’d rather someone with good intent do it,” she sighed.

“So, you would wait this long to have a pure heart like me to do this for you? How sooner could this story have been brought to light?”

“I – I’d rather someone with good intent, Nanda,” she insisted.

“And am I? One of good intent? ” he asked, “what makes me the chosen one? Does this mean you have faith in me?”

“I have no faith in anyone, young man. You humans – people. You people, all of you like to say the same thing: ‘I want to change the world’. Until you’re offered a bit of comfort, then all your dreams are out the window. What is one young man going to do that others haven’t done?”

“Then why did you call me here?” Nanda asked, stopping to face her, “why are we still on the way there?”

“I didn’t call you. You decided to…”

“You know what? I’ve had enough of this,” he said, “point me to the right way and I’ll do it myself then.”

“Oh? A brave one, it seems,” she sneered, “weren’t you the one who nearly wet his trousers when he saw a cobra?”

“Is it straight on?” Nanda asked, walking ahead of her as he shook her head.

‘No wonder nothing gets done in our country,’ he murmured, ‘all they do is complain.’

His thoughts were interrupted when he stepped on something. Not the usual crackle of a leaf, nor was it the rough edge of a rock. It broke under his weight, like a …

“You’re going the wrong way,” Mama Shianda said as she joined him.

“What?”

“You might run into another predator and I might not be there to save you.”

“By not screaming for help?” he snapped. They looked at each other for a while before a smile broke on each of their faces, after which they shared a light laugh.

“You actually seem legitimate, Nanda,” she said, patting his back, “come with me.”

“Hold on, let me tie my shoe first,” he said as he bent down to pick up the ID card, fumbling with his shoe. He thought for a while, not sure whether to bring up the topic or not, but decided to do it anyway.

“How many others have come here before?” he asked her. She turned to him, wearing the same worried look on her face as before.

“Quite a few,” she said, “though they never seem interested in the cause like you are.”

“You’re sure?”

“I mean, who else would be able to verbally spar with me like you?”

“No one, I assume,” he said, laughing with her as she nodded in agreement. A funny feeling came over him, tickling his stomach and pricking his mind, like an alarm had gone off somewhere in his body. As she walked ahead, he marked a nearby tree. However, he felt something; right on the trunk, a vertical groove. He looked keenly at it, discovering an etching of four letters:

‘ITSH’

“What is this?” he asked himself, running his hands on the etching, trying to make sense of it.

Just then, a small boy ran past, stopping to look at Nanda. He smiled at them, and ran deeper into the forest, shouting:

“Icha uno!”

“What is he saying?” Nanda asked.

“’Come here’. He’s asking you to come and see for yourself,” she said, pointing to him. He sighed, looked back at the path they took, and followed her.

They trudged on for about ten minutes, Nanda wondering how fast that boy ran. The old woman climbed over a high rock, this time not turning to help Nanda.

“Okay then,” he muttered.

“Are you coming?” the woman asked him, looking down at him from the top of the rock.

“Of course,” he said, climbing up and going on with her. Just then, they came across a group of children gathered in a circle. They all looked up at the two, Nanda’s heart bleeding at the sight of their bony, ashen faces that smiled warmly at them.

“Kariena?” he asked as he waved.

“Amalai,” the children responded as the duo walked past them. Nanda noticed that they stood at a distance, watching them walk away. That, and the makeshift weapons they brandished.

“What exactly would they have done with those sticks if we were a group of over thirty men?” Nanda asked.

“You’ll be shocked at how powerful those children can be when someone is trying to cut them open,” she remarked, “we’re close”. He took out his phone, switched on the recorder.

“People, we’re getting close by. We’ve just passed a group of children, looking emaciated and in dire need of assistance. Word has it that they may have been victims of the same, and this now makes us know the depravity of these inhuman creatures. Who would do this to a child?”

“Inhuman creatures? Isn't that a bit redundant?” she asked.

“How else would you describe these people?” he asked, a hint of frustration in his voice.

“Oooh, we’re angry again, are we?”

“Aren’t you? This doesn’t bother you?”

“When you’re my age, nothing in this world scares you anymore. Besides, you can be angry for the two of us. Here we are,” she said.

Past two posts demarcating the entrance, they walked into a clearing surrounded by mud huts, where children huddled in groups, kneeling around a stump, cutting it up vigorously. Ahead of them was a cliff, where an old man sat at the edge, surrounded by more children.

“Who’s that?” he asked her.

“The man you’re looking for,” she said, “I think you should hand me that device. He scares easily.”

“He’s the one behind this whole operation?”

“He knows more than you can imagine.”

“How did you find him? Why is he still here? If many people came here, wouldn’t he have taken off already?”

“Do you want to find out the truth, or not? Go ask him,” she grunted as she pushed him forward.

He eyed the children around him, then the old man right ahead of him. Then, he handed her his phone and walked steadily towards him. He didn’t care much about the kids until he saw one of the groups. There, by the foot of one of the children, a hand lay limp on the ground.

“Jesus!” he exclaimed, scaring them as he walked towards them. They were gathered around a corpse, greyed well beyond its death, punctured by the weapons the children had.

“What are you doing? What are they doing?” he asked them.

“Practice, Nanda. That was one of them,” the old woman said as some children gathered around her. He stared at the children for a while, then gulped as he approached the elder.

“He has to have the answer,” Nanda said to himself. The children around him moved aside to show his body, free of hands and legs, seated on a stool.

“WHAT THE HELL??” he screamed, eyes bulging and jaw on the ground. The man eyed him, tears streaming down his face. He then looked to his right, and Nanda saw some kids holding a severed arm.

“Please…” he began before Nanda interrupted with a barrage of questions.

“What happened – no, why? Why are you doing this! Is this a result of - how long have you been doing this? Where are your accomplices?”

The man took deep breaths as the tears flowed, finally looking up at Nanda, then to the children, speaking weakly.

“They killed them.”

“Honestly, serves you right. An eye for an eye, in the literal sense.”

“I’m sorry for my actions,” he went on, “it was a long time ago. I swore to never do it again. But it wouldn’t listen to me.”

“It?” Nanda asked. The discomfort in his stomach came back, especially when the old man looked to the side, slightly turning his head and speaking rather ominously:

“You shouldn’t have come.”

Nanda felt a child tugging at his sweater, looking up at him while smiling. He smiled back but felt uneasy at the same time.

“Look at what it’s done,” the old man said, looking to his side again. Nanda peered beyond the old man, towards the valley. He walked towards the edge, his heart beating faster with every step he took, only imagining what was down there.

The steep descent before him was not what caused him to nearly collapse, neither were the rocks. In fact, it was the contortion of bodies that were spread in the valley, as far as his eyes could see on either side, many opened up or missing limbs.

“OH MY GOD!!” he shrieked as he stepped away, covering his mouth. He turned to see a multitude of children gathered in the village, all holding a weapon as they smiled at him. The elderly woman stood in the background, baring her teeth in a twisted smile of her own.

“What – what is this?” he asked, standing next to the stump of the old man, who bawled his eyes out as he told the truth.

“She needed someone to teach them how to do it. They needed to know how to continue…”

Before he could finish, the children squealed in joy as they rushed to the old man, stabbed him repeatedly.

“It’s my turn!” one girl screamed as she pulled her friend away and stabbed the elder in the eye, clapping as he let out a scream of agony and helplessness before he drew his last, the look in his eyes burnt in Nanda’s memory.

“WHAT THE HELL?!” he screamed, horrified further as the children carved him open, taking out his organs and carrying them away. Nanda turned to the old woman, surrounded by children who looked on at their peers.

“What is going on here?” he asked as he walked towards her.

“Listen,” she said, holding his arms, “they were only doing to him what he did to their parents. It was only fair…”

“That – that isn’t what – Jesus! So this is what, revenge? They’ve been cut open!”

“You could say so,” she spoke calmly.

“So, all these bodies? All those in the valley? You want to tell me those are all the children’s’ victims?” he asked, unhanding himself. It was then that he saw the shadow of a child with a knife held upwards, ready to strike at – him.

“What the hell are you doing?!” he barked at the child, crushing her arm as she dropped the knife.

“Nanda…”

“Was she trying to - ”

He stopped talking the minute he saw the children slowly approaching him, weapons at the ready. He looked at the old man, realizing now that the stumps where his arms and legs were attached were still bleeding.

‘Those – that was done recently,’ he whispered to himself, seeing Mama Shianda nod, as if she was listening to him. He saw more children coming his way, holding their weapons as like cutlery, eager to dine in. The girl he held only confirmed his initial fear when she said:

“He was distressed. Wasn’t it the right time to strike?”

“Nanda, this will go easier if you just…” the woman started, right before he took to his heels.

“HELP!” Nanda shouted. He managed to get behind the huts and through the entrance, all while hordes of children chased him through the forest.

“Oh, God, she has my phone!” he shrieked as he ran on. He turned slightly to see a child, about 8 years of age, keeping up with him as he giggled, a knife in his hand. He tried speeding up, but the child was still hot on his heels, knife at the ready.

“No! Please, don’t…” he tried to say, right before the boy swung the knife at his heel, sending him crashing to the ground, wincing in agony. The children gathered around him, leaving a way for the old woman to come close to him.

“What did you – who are you people?!” he screamed at them.

“He asked that his people be spared,” one boy said.

“What?”

“He asked that new blood be brought in for the ritual. No more from our people,” a girl said.

“New blood?” he asked her. He then thought about the broken ID, the etching on the tree trunk, then it hit him.

“IT’S HER?” he asked loudly.

“I have to hand it to you, Nanda. You’re a sharp one. You almost got away. Almost,” Mama Shianda said.

“You’re the – what is going on? You’re the one heading this operation?”

“Yes, but it’s not what you think.”

“You’re recruiting children to do your dirty work?” he snapped at her, watching the children burst into hearty laughter.

“See this one?” she started, patting a plump boy on his head, “this is Wakoli. The baby of the family. He was orphaned when marauders came to his village and killed everyone, about eighty years ago. In his dying breath, he talked to me.”

“Eighty years ago?” he repeated, seeing the boy waving at him.

“See the girl beside you?” she asked as he looked up at her.

“I’m Akinyi,” she softly said, kneeling on his forearm.

“She witnessed her friends slaughtered by the man they just killed. She didn’t want it to happen again, so she talked to me. She’s the elder here, Nanda. five-hundred and twenty two years old, to be exact.

“Five hundred – that can’t be true – is it- what is happening?” Nanda tried to ask. Mama Shianda took a deep breath, pushed the children aside and told him everything.

“When I first came to this earth, I was a hungry being. After hordes of villages fell in my belly, the men then came to me, willing to strike a deal. Hundreds of years of life, and in return, they sacrifice their best children to me.”

Nanda’s eyes widened in horror, his heart drumming in his chest as he looked at her, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Then,” she went on, ignoring his obvious fright, “their children staged a coup against them, having seen so many of their friends murdered, and they made the deal, thanks to Akinyi here. Hundreds of years of life, for their wisest and eldest for me. But, they too worried about the same thing; that their own children would turn on them. So it was agreed that new people be brought in for the same.”

“Wh – what?” he asked, his voice trembling with fear.

“Congratulations, Nanda. You will be recognized after all. With the ones who came before, you will all be the first of many to come.”

The children could feel Nanda’s arms trembling under their weight, and Akinyi saw his eyes widen in horror as those words slowly seeped into his mind.

“This isn’t happening, this can't be happening,” he tried consoling himself.

“But, their elders had numbers. Granted, they were incapacitated when sacrificed, but they were many, and I was full. Then, Wafula over there discovered something.”

He looked up at the boy who knifed his heel. He smiled and said:

“Potency is more important than quantity,” he said.

“What?” Nanda asked them, his heart palpitating.

“The more scared they are, the more potent their blood is,” she said. Nanda closed his eyes for a moment, struggling to say a prayer that might save him, seeing that he couldn’t fight his way out of it. All he could manage to say, a whimper of despair, was:

“Please, please don’t kill me.”

Almost like they were waiting for his final words, he watched the children nodding as their eyes turned white, all while facing him. Then, in a flash, the old woman turned into a four-legged creature with its hairy paw on his chest, its tentacle head staring down at him with red, glowing eyes, its fangs glistening with saliva as it roared at him, turning back into the old woman just as fast.

As soon as he started screaming, the children stabbed him repeatedly, his blood gushing out. One of them, eyes still glowing white and smiling horrifically at him, punctured a vein in his neck and squeezed his throat as he collected the blood in a jar. Another pried him open amidst his blood-soaked screams of pain and agony as he watched them take out his organs.

“Bring it while it’s still fresh. I can almost taste that adrenaline,” the woman told the children, speaking in a deep guttural voice that echoed with every word she spoke. In his last few moments, he watched her jaw dislocate and morph into a tentacle one, opening wide to engulf his intestines.

“Why didn’t you eat him like the others?” Akinyi asked, pulling out his liver.

“I like him,” she spoke, her voice booming through the forest.

“Hel – please – pleas…” he tried to speak before his throat was cut open, his blood gushing like a geyser. As they focused on severing his limbs, the last thing Nanda saw was a knife headed into each of his eyes…