THIS, FOR SERGEANT NTHONDO

By Steve Kumalonje

He was a Goliath built with blurred and observant eyes, strong and fearsome arms and a rather protruding belly- the one associated with prosperity and profuse peace of mind. And as anticipated from such a giant figure in the Force, the voice was deep and hoarse.

I first bumped into him somewhere in town during one of my regular editorial assignments and from the word go the “Sarge” seriously caught my eye.

Congratulations on his latest promotion from Constable to the rank of Sergeant flew from all directions in that spacious bar and not wanting to lag behind, I joined in.

But why all that fuss? Why all that camaraderie? That is where and when I came to learn from an excited imbiber- the type that shoots off the mouth anyhow before loading the brains- that the merriment was for Nthondo’s first promotion in his twenty-five year service of discipline, hard-work and dedication in the Force.

“First promotion in twenty-five years?” I pondered. That really called for real salutation from all people of good will in that not-so-classy bar and elsewhere, I acknowledged.

Albeit not knowing each other personally, we all lined up with our cherished toxins of drinks in hands and marched past where the ‘Big Man’ was serenely seated. And in a very dignified manner he acknowledged our slow and quick march salutation modestly with a huge smile shimmering on his rather wrinkled face, a clear testimony of the many winters and summers he had seen.
***
Off-the-record I learnt from the people gathered at Michigan Bar in the outskirts of Mbayani that Nthondo was a revered and industrious cop skilled in Investigations and Prosecution the whole of Kabula.

“If he is that prolific as you claim, why has it taken him ages to be decorated with chevrons?” I enquired.

“Such issues are never questioned brother. The authority to adorn hard-working and prolific law enforcers rests with the Force Headquarters,” chipped in all unanimously, making me slightly appear irrational for asking the question.

“Promotions and medals are given by the Force-HQ on merit, that’s what I know,” jumps in a shabby-looking teenager with a twinkle in his eye, throwing us all into great laughter.

“Bongosolo, I hope it’s not that toxin in your sachet which is doing the talking,” remarked the Barman, inviting more laughter.

“Bongosolo, where in the world has that merit been hiding all these years only to surface when Nthondo is but an old and frail cop who is about to hang up his boots?” asked the Barman to a great round of applause and murmurs of approval and concern from all imbibers.

“Medals or no medals, I have always idolized this cop for his thorough and complete investigation skills. If it were not for his ‘digging’, I would be languishing in prison now. He saved me when my former boss in Namiwawa reported me to Police on a trumped-up charge of armed robbery way after I had called it quits working for him as a houseboy,” pronounced Kalivute.

“And ever heard how Dungulinya, that human private parts dealer was cornered, nabbed and subsequently found guilty and sentenced by the Court of Law? It was an act worth developing a blockbuster film from and the main actor behind that enquiry and arrest was the junior-ranked officer himself, Nthondo.”
***
Now as I lay this wreath on this mound of earth, I can’t help but shed a tear for the man who renounced his blossoming teaching career in Mpherembe for an impeccable service in the Force.

I can’t help but think of the words that he once confided in us that first day we met at Michigan: “No matter what hindrances you may face in your job and business, never give up lads. Work to the best of your ability and your day to rise to the occasion will definitely come.”

As I finally lay these flowers on this tomb, I mull over the barbaric way this perfect Detective had to leave this planet. He was caught in a mob justice fracas that ensued when some discontented souls opted to take the law into their own hands and demanded in vain the release of two-hardcore criminals: sadly blood was spilled, life was lost, the Police Post was torched and officers’ houses were razed down.