WhenDarknessCollapses

HannahBissell

*chirp**chirp**chirp*
It was a quiet, moonless night. Nothing but the sound of bush crickets singing their
nightlytunefilledtheair.Itwascoolandcrisp,andsmelledoffreshearthafterarecentrain.
The boy took a deep breath, inhaling the refreshing scent before heading to bed. Weary
after a long day of playing, he climbed into his bed, letting the sheets encase him like a
caterpillar in a warm cocoon. He was soon in a deep sleep, until a startling scream sent him
jolting awake. Its highpitched sound pierced through the silent night. Jumping out of bed, he
rushedtotheothersideofhishut,hisimmediateinstincttocheckonhismother.
But, to his horror, there she lay, blood oozingfromabiteonherankle,thedeadlyhissof
a snake trailing in the distance. Holding his mothers hand,hewept.Heknewtherewasnothing
hecoulddo.
Afterwhatseemedlikehours,shecroaked,Makemeproud,myson.Iloveyou.
That was nearly 13 years ago. After his mothers death, he took on the name Kajilele
meaning selfreliant. He was now 19, and to this day, the boy had feared the black mamba like
nothing else in this world. It had put anendhismother,andherefusedtoletitgetridofhimthe
sameway.
Kajilele enjoyed his quiet life in what was known as the Copperbelt Province and lived
with the Bemba people his tribe. He lived alone in ahutmadeofmudandstraw,anditwasbig
enough to hold a small bed, a fireplace and cooking area, Kajilele had a small farm, and grew
maize, cassava, and sweet potatoes, as well as owned two goats and three hens. He very much
enjoyed living off the resourceful land, and making use of what the ngulu, ornaturespirits,had
provided. The earth on which he grew his crops and fed his livestock was powerful and
importantitwasnttobetakenforgranted.Theearthhewalkedwasablessing.
Coming back from an early morning hunt, he saw men with skin white like the clouds
addressing histribe.Theyworelarge,brownbootsthatwerelacedallthewayup,andtiedwitha
tan string. They had loose, white shirts that blew in the wind, and wore beige capris. The men
spoke in a odd, eccentric language he couldnt understand. As they spoke, a man began to
translatewhattheoddpairweresaying.
We dont mean to do you any harm, said the man, waiting for them to start talking
again.
We are here because we need your help. The tribe murmured about confusedly, and
proceeded to listen. We need volunteers to help us clear a mine ofcopperore.Workerswillbe
paid heftily we promise you wont be displeased. As the white man said this, he let out a
devious halfsmile. We understand many of you will need time toprocessandthinkaboutthis,
so well come back tomorrow morning. Thank you all for your time. As the three strangemen
walked away, a wave of excitement rushed over the gathered crowd. Wives urged their

husbands, mothers urged their sons, and those left to their own devices were willing to go. The
dealsoundedfair,sowhynot?
Kajilelethoughttohimself,IfIdontlikeit,Illjustleave.AtleastIllbegettingpaid.
Healreadyknewhewasin.Nowallthatwaslefttodowaswaittillthemorning.
That night, he couldnt sleep. Tossing and turning on his bed, he thought of what it was
like to be inside a mine. He had never been inone,andcouldonlyimaginewhatit waslike.His
mind raced, creating images of copper and coin. He pictured the new hut he would build a hut
bigenoughtoholdmultiplewives.
Letting his imagination runwildlikethebeastsofthesavannah,hesoondriftedoffintoa
deepsleep.
The next morning, Kajilele got up at dawn, watching the sun rise highintothehot,open
sky. The weather was perfect, for birds chirped happily as they fluttered about. Kajilele felt his
day couldnt get any more exciting. A large group of men including himself waited inthesame
spotthewhitemenhadcame,waitingfortheirarrival.
...
AsKajilelewasledbythewhiteman towardsthebackofthemine,ametallictingeinthe
airfilledhisnose.The airwashumid,andtheminewasdarkandgloomy.Inthedistance,he saw
men from his very own tribe, working away at the jagged stone with their pickaxes Beads of
sweat trailing down their dark, muscular bodies. Sturdy, silver chains attached to the workers
ankles gleamed in the dim lighting. Here and there, an oil lamp hung from a sconcedrilledinto
the stone. Small pools of water spotted the uneven floor of the mine, and as Kajilele splashed
throughthemonoccasion,themetallicsmellinhisnosegrew.
Once they reachedthebackofthemine,thethewhitemanpushedKajileletotheground,
strappingthebraceofthechaintohisankle.
Grabapickaxeandgettowork,boy!
He looked down,andsawabrown,rustedpickaxewithasplinteredhandle.Pickingitup,
he felt its weight rest evenly in his hands. Kajilele looked around at theworkersoneachsideof
him,watchingtheirlifelessfacespoundawayatthestone.
The man on his right was short, about 54. Specks of gray dotted his frizzy charcoal
hair, and his beard was long and just the same. His small stature made it look as if it was a
struggle to lift his axe with each lug he took. To his left, Kajilele saw a tall, husky man. He
looked about 25, and was about 63. His head was shaved It looked smooth and soft, with
brown specks the color of his hair. His muscles bulged with each heave, and the man let out a
smallgrunteverytimeheloweredhisarms.
The day was long for Kajilele. He worked silently, the only sound being metal against
stone. Only once were the miners let outside for some fresh air. Many of the them stretched,
walking around in a small circle. Kajilele was deeply saddened at what had become of his new
life. He kept to himself, watching everything around him, observing. The barren landscape
surrounded the mine, a few mopane trees scattered here and there, their large, butterfly shaped

leaves blowing through the hot summer breeze. Dirts of oranges, browns and reds dyed by the
minerals from the mine covered the vast landscape. He watched as atrailofdiverantscollected
crumbs of bread scattered across the ground from the their quest for food complete. As he
staredattheants,hislarge,hazelbrowneyesgleamedinthesun.
Kajilele himself was a tall man: 62 in height with coffee brown skin. His hair was jet
black, roughly an inch in length, and it wascoarseandcoiled.Asheworked,hismusclespulsed
rhythmically. He was very strongfora manofonly19,buthewasusedtohardwork.Eversince
hismotherpassed,helearnedtodoeverythinghimselfbuildingmusclealongtheway.
The next week was a living hell for Kajilele. The work days were getting longer, the
workload larger, and his precious outside time was decreasing. It was becoming rare that the
workers even got lunch. He felt as if his very life force was being drained. He was becoming a
machine. These new changes had taken a toll on the other miners as well. Chola, the old man
next to Kajilele was becomingweakandfrail,unabletokeepupwiththewhitemensincreasing
demands. Just the other day, he had received 10 lashes for not producing enough ore. The day
before that, Chilufya passed away from being crushed by loose stone. The poor man was only
22.
Kajilele didnt understand why he and his fellow tribesmembers were beingtreatedthis
way. They all agreed toleavetheBembapeopleinpromiseofwealthandfairtreatment.Instead,
they endured harsh conditions and were paid in company scrip making itseeminglyimpossible
to know how much they had, or even to save their earnings. Depression crept up on him like a
shadow coming round a corner. His strong, deep voice became raspy and hoarse whenever he
pushed the words out of his mouth. His light, springy gait became heavy and encumbered, and
his work productivity was slowly decreasing,causingproblemsforhisphysicalhealth.Hecould
feel his shouldersdroopmoreandmoreeverydaywhilehischindroppedheknewhispridewas
draining.Itwasfallingliketheleavesofatreeinthedryseason.
Fivelasheseveryhourforthelessmotivated!screamedaguarddelightedly.
Kajilele didnt know how many times he endured the harsh flog of the braided leather
whip. Its sharp, piercing teeth dug into hisskin,causinghisbacktobleedandwelt.Thestinging
pain made him angry. He had a long fuse, but when it went off, he exploded like a stick of
dynamite.
Once his day was over, and he had collected enough copper ore, he was unchained and
lefttodoashepleased.Heheadedtothegeneralstoretousethecompanyscripheearnedforthe
day, even though he hadnt a clue how much that was. Everything close to the mine was
controlledbywhitemen.Itwasasiftheyhadcompletelytakenover.
As Kajilele walked into the store, he searched the shelves for his favorite drink: An
imported British whiskey, in a largebrownbottle. Kajilelealsogotasmallsackofdriedtobacco
and some rolling papers. The man swiftly scribbled Kajileles purchase in a without saying a
word.

The sun was starting to set as hemadehiswaybacktothemine.Theskywasabeautiful

arrayofpink,yellowandorangepaintedacrossthelarge,opensky.
The miners had a camp set up not to far from the mine. It had comprised of 100
someodd tents, each large enough to hold one person. The tents were separated into many
smaller groups, with campfires placedinsideofeachgroup.Everytenthada specificnumber,so
the workers knew which onewastheirs.Kajilelesatinsideofhistent,hereachedfor thetobacco
he purchased and began to roll a cigarette. The smoke flowed smoothly into his lungs, its
bittersweet taste pleasing to his palate. As the pleasant, dizzy head rush spread throughout his
body, it seemed as if his nerves took a deep breath they were comfortingly calm. After his
cigarette, he reached for his bottle. Popping off the top, he took a large swig, letting its sweet,
dignified blend of flavors drown his tastebuds and coat his mouth with its ethanolic tinge. He
cringed at the strongtasteofthedrink,andtakingadeepbreath,he let thealcoholflowdownhis
throatlikeastreamchannellingdownahill.
With the sun sinking deeper and deeper into its slumber, more and more men began to
appear, clearly weary from their day hard at work. Abale, one of Kajileles closest friends
walkeduptohim.
SomeoftheboysrgettintogetherTheyvegotaplan.Letshearitout.
Okayy,Kajileleslurred,Beriiighttheeeree.
In his drunken stupor, Kajilele staggered to his feet, the manylightsofcampfiresamere
blur. Stumbling through the dark, he struggled to make his way to the boys meeting place. It
was a small trail leading out of the camp, probably a 10 minute walkinlength.Heoccasionally
gripped onto Abales shoulder for a steady hold, fearing that he would fall. Kajilele was
confused. Why had they decided tocallameeting?Whatwasgoing tohappen?Thestatehewas
in didnt allow him to think properly. All he could focus on was putting one foot infrontofthe
otherandkeepinghisliquordown.
Nearing the site, he made out a small orange flame, lighting up the shadows of what
looked to be 10 men. Their voices pierced through the silent night. Whatever was in store for
Kajilele,hewouldsoonfindout.
Good,youtwoarefinallyhere!Wewerestartingtowonderifyoudshowupornot.
One of the men from the group got up, and pulled out two mopane logs for Abale
and
Kajileletositon.Whiletheyweregettingsettled,thediscussionbegan.
You should all know why were here stated the oldest member. Were sick of this
unfair treatment. We work all daywithnobreaks,wegetbeat,andwedontknowwhatthefuck
were actually getting paid. I think its about time these assholes get a taste of their own
goddamnmedicine.Wehavetokillthewhitemen!
Oh boy. Kajilele didnt know what to think. It felt like so much totakein,butitseemed
soright.
Buthowdowepullitoff?askedoneofthemen,puzzled.

Well need a distraction. Once all the guards are drawn inside, we will have access to
their leader, and someone will need to kill him. Once hes dead, their sense of order will be
deteriorated.Wewillbefree!
Kajilele started to think. Hefeltarushofpridewellinsideofhim.Hecouldbetheoneto
doit.Hecouldkillthewhiteman!
Illlldooit,heyelled,stilldrunk.Illkillllthewhitemann.
The crowd cheered, everyone drunk by the timeadecisionhadbeenreached.Thatnight,
it was full of singing, dancing, and laughter. But what the men didnt know was that their plan
wasalotharderthanitseemed
The next morning, Kajiele woke up in somewhatofadaze.Hisbrainfeltlikeitthrobbed
inside his skull, and his body was sore. All the drunken memories from the nightbeforeflowed
into his now sober mind. He remembered what he had volunteered to do so effortlessly, and he
knewithadtobedone.
A man is only as good as his word, he thought. Although he was scared and nervous,
hewasstrong.
Once all theworkerswereinthemine,chainedandreadytostarttheirday,oneof
theguardswalkeduptoKajilele.
Whatwasallthatracketyouboysweremakinglastnight,huh?
Nothing He didnt say a word. Kajilele proceeded to work, an anxious wave flushing
overhim.
Not gonna answer me eh? Well how about wegiveyoualashortwoandseewhatyou
havetosaythen?saidtheguardangrily,hisvoiceringingthroughtheminewalls.
He instead pushed Kajilele into the jagged stone with great force and laughed, walking
awaywithgreatdelight.
Forcing himself to his feet, Kajilele felt streams of blood trickle down his face. His lip
and nose pulsed with pain, and anger welled deep within him. He couldfeelhisbodyshakeand
his heart rate quicken. The pain subsided while his head was clouded Kajilele was furious. He
wantedrevenge.He
was
goingtokillthewhiteman.Every.Single.Oneofthem.
Breaking off a piece of the rock with his pickaxe, he hit his chain repeatedly. It was
tattered and old, and with each hit Kajilele could see the links start to pull apart. After three
more hard bashes, it finally broke apart. Grabbing the chain, he headedforAzule.Hetappedon
hisshoulder,lettinghimknowthatitwastimeTimetogetthisoverwith.
Sofar,theirplanwasfallingperfectlyintoplace.Kajilelehadtohidebehindeverycorner
and watch for scanning eyes. He had to avoid the guards using his excellent stealth to his
advantage.
His angerwassoothingKajileleletitsmoothlycontrolhiseverymove.Hewasreadyfor
this,histasteforbloodstrong.
Finally reaching the entrance of the mine, he noddedtoBaba,whoproceededtoletouta
loud click. The game had finally begun. Kajilele raced around the entrance of the mine as soon

as he heard a loud shriek. Watchingfromhisundetectableposition,hesawthe guardsrushinby

thenumbers.Asheheldthechaininhishand,hisheartraced.Hehadneverfeltsoalive.
Kajilele scanned the area for any signs of the leader, finally closing in on him. It was
perfect, for he was the only one outside. Quietly at first he snuck up on him, going in a large
circle, closing inonhimlikeapredatorwithitsprey.Inthebroaddaylight,thestupidmandidnt
knowwhatwascoming.Kajileleknewhewouldwin.Theirleaderdidntstandachance.
Such ashameyouhavetogothisway,laughedKajilele,asinisterlookinhiseyes.The
whitemanturnedaround.
Whawha
The sound of his voice was cut off by the sound of metal clashing against bone. Blood
splattered across Kajileles face as the white manfelltotheground.Overandover,hethrewthe
chain into his skull, bashing at it until it was nothingmorethanslush.Bloodseeped intoground
and pieces of bone were scattered everywhere, the brown dirt now a dark, crimson red. Blood
dripped from Kajileles chain, and it was plastered to his face and clothes. Staring at the white
mansdeadlifelessbody,hespit.
Eatshithesaidashewalkedaway.
Although Kajilele had triumphed,awholeothervictorywastobeservedinsidethemine.
As he ran full speed into the entrance, he shrieked out a loud war cry, swinging hischainlikea
madman. Insideitwasfullblownchaos.Guardswereattackingworkers.Workerswereattacking
guards.Notonemanwassafefromthedeadlyblowofanother.Themadnessfeltneverending.
After whatseemedlikehours,thesoundof agunshotpiercedthroughthescreamsof both
whiteandblack.Alltheworkersdroppedtothefloor,coveringtheirheadswiththeirarms.
They worked all night that night and all day the next. Each and every miner received a
brutal amount of lashings, causing a vast majority of them to pass away from hypovolemic
shock. Itseemedasifbloodnowcoatedthewallsandfilledtheunevenpoolsthatoncecontained
water. The metallic smell only grew stronger, and dead bodies of both the guards and the
workerswerelefttorotastheminerstrudgedawayWorkinginnowgruesomeconditions.
Kajilele worked his fingers to the bone.Hewasrarelyfed,becomingawalkingskeleton
his once large muscles soon diminished, and he could feel his knees want to give out witheach
step he took. Overwhelmed with fatigue, he could barely lift his pickaxe, and saw spots each
time he blinked his eyes. Throughout the day, he was kicked and beat by numerous guards.
Kajilele wanted to die. He wanted to end his nightmare of terror, for ittobeallover.Hewasnt
halfthemanheusedtobe.
After a week, things were starting to return to normal. The morning had just started and
Kajilele was working away, striking at the stone in his rhythmic pattern. He was humming a
childhoodtune,untilheheardasoundthatmadehisheartskipabeat.
Hsssssshssshssssss
Slowly turning around, what he feared the mostwasstaringrightathim.Itssmall,beady
eyes hungry for blood. Its black mouth open, ready to strike. It was a black mamba, the snake

that had taken his mother from him. Kajilele was struck with fear he didnt know what to do.
Slowly backing up, he felt his footkickan activeboxofdynamite.Inthatsplitsecond,hedidnt
knowwhatwasworse.Thedynamiteabouttoexplode,orhisbiggestfear.
With everything seeming to be in slow motion,Kajileles onlyinstinctwastorun,andat
thatmoment,everythingwentblank.
BOOOOOOOM!!
A cloud of smoke filled the air and a ball of blazing orangeandyellowfirebillowedout
of every crevice as pieces of the stone flew in allthedirections. Themineexplodedbodyparts,
pickaxes, and massive chunks of rock flew everywhere. Everyone was dead, and Konkolamine
was nothing more thanamemoryofbloodand tortureratherthanprosperityandfortune.Copper
ore covered the ground andadeadlysilencefelluponthearea.Thesouls ofthoseforcedtowork
wouldforeverbeinsearchoffortuneandwealththeywereoncepromised,butneverreceived.