Brighter Days

Market day, 3:03pm, South Africa, 2049. 

"Live from Sky Weather News. Luan Govender here. Today, we delve into the treacherous global climate crisis. The El Niño-Southern Oscillation looms, with projected losses of $9 trillion, and Africa braces for an imminent drought. Recognizing the urgency, CLIMAN was established under the IPCC and UNF-triple-C forces to mitigate these challenges. Let's turn to renowned weather forecaster Tebello Lerato Mkhize for insights into the severity of South Africa's impending drought. Teb, over to you."

The videographer alerted Teb that he would go live in three...two...

"Thank you, Lu.  Certain parts of South Africa are nothing short of a climatic catastrophe. As the drought intensifies, it threatens to push communities to the brink, posing unprecedented challenges to their survival. I am down here at Alexandra Township, and the relentless heat beats down on these already arid landscapes, exacerbating water scarcity and perpetuating a cycle of desperation. El Niño once again is massively causing the Western regions to have an extreme drought. At the same time, South America experiences excessive thunderstorms and rainfall, and according to the World Meteorological Organization, South America must prepare for thunderous typhoons. But South Africa must get ready for their darkest times as well. We would transition to Sibasa as my colleague Elaine would get more insights into what the Climate Impact Mitigation and Adaptation Network, which is CLIMAN, are doing to..."

Oomph! 

Teb's waistline jolted. A 4'6'' ten-year-old girl carelessly bumped into him. "Uxolo uxolo," she hurriedly apologized, her voice tinged with innocence. Teb, recognizing that she is a local because she spoke Zulu and was unfazed by the collision, spontaneously responded to it and gently waved his hand to assure her it was alright. She darted away in the blink of an eye, disappearing into the crowd. In that fleeting moment, Teb turned on his heels, compelled to glimpse the little girl who had left a trail of baby-powdered sweetness in her wake. His eyes landed upon her, a vision of beauty. Her long-braided hair cascaded down her back, adorned with a white lily delicately tucked at the right side. It harmonized perfectly with her African-print skirt, a mosaic of vibrant colors, and her golden necklace gleaming against her skin. Her dainty feet were clad in sandals reminiscent of Birkenstocks, their straps winding gracefully up her legs.

The marketplace was a mess. A cacophony of police droids, known as the Sentinel Enforcers, were patrolling the area amidst scattered rubbish. Clad in a sleek, obsidian black with government insignias emblazoned on their backs, electro-magnetic stun guns, and menacing machine guns adorned in their robust metallic arms and their gaze, a single beam of crimson light cutting through the air, these formidable automatons instilled fear and authority. Hawkers darted around on the untarred roads, their voices echoing as they vied for customers' attention. Hover droids hovered above, vigilant sentinels scanning the crowd for any signs of criminal activity. The combined efforts of these machines and heavily armored police soldiers aimed to maintain order and safety. Hearing that the ozone layer was quickly depleting frightened them. They were asked to put on a colour reflecting the heat rays. And white was a better option.

The little girl navigated the marketplace, her trusty carrying bag in tow, ready to procure the items on her mother's shopping list. She made her way to the tomato seller, a familiar face in the lively market. It was Ms. Maseko. She knew the girl would come today. "Mangaki?"  The vendor inquired about the quantity she desired, t which the little girl extended her hand, five fingers outstretched. Her wrist beads slipped from her grasp as she gestured and hits the floor. A young man noticed the mishap and swiftly retrieved the beads. His eyes were captivated by their exquisite craftsmanship. Upon closer inspection, he discovered the name etched on them: Ayanda. The little girl acknowledged his help, allowing him to secure the beads back around her right arm.

Ayanda placed the tomatoes one by one in a black rubber container provided by the vendor. A nearby radio broadcasted, "…the ozone layer is depleted daily. This El-Nino oscillation is tearing the country apart. And what is the government doing about it? Their increasing taxes. The situation is getting out of hand..." Then it hit her. It was not until she reached the final tomato that a vivid recollection surged forth, reminding her of a conversation overheard between her mother and an ophthalmologist:

"...the situation is getting out of hand, Mrs. Moyo." Ayanda remembered his name, Dr. Nkosi. He sighed heavily as he continued. "The test conducted just three days ago confirmed a mild condition. Her daytime vision appears relatively better, but once the sun sets, her world plunges into shades of black and white. We may need to monitor her condition daily, for she will suffer from severe and irreversible Achromatopsia for several days. She would have to be taken to a hospital outside as they would know how to surgically operate on this. But it would be costly." She remembered the little moan her mum gave upon hearing that news.                                                                                                                                       

But she struggled to comprehend the gravity of the doctor's words. All she knew was that the colors eluded her during the day, yet the night brought forth a different terror. She sees these strange spirits at night. One time in the dark at home, she saw a Buffalo staring at her with glowing red eyes. Sometimes she could see her ancestors. Sometimes she has a disastrous nightmare and gets sleep paralysis. Sometimes her body shakes in pure terror because of the things she sees. But Mum assured her those evil spirits would never touch her because she would always be with her. She stared hard at the tomato, trying to figure out its color.

And then it happened… BOOM!.

An earth-shattering explosion echoed from the distant end of the street, its reverberations rippling through the air and vibrating every object in its wake. The deafening blast was quickly followed by the piercing walls of panic. An enraged mob clashed fiercely with the police and their formidable robotic counterparts. Descending from the skies, the menacing cyclopean droids unleashed a barrage of firepower upon the mob. "Leave this place now! It's not safe anymore!" shouted an officer, only to be cut down by a barrage of bullets. Chaos consumed the scene as the mob showed no mercy, relentless in their assault. Everyone dashed in all directions. Their lives hanging by a thread. Ayanda dropped her basket, scattering tomatoes across the road. She was overwhelmed by the escalating violence. She swiftly maneuvered through the labyrinthine alleyways, seeking shelter within the walls. Another explosion thundered through the air. Its magnitude was intense. She stumbled and fell but mustered some strength and got back up even though her fear and frustration blurred her senses. Exacerbated by her impaired vision. She saw her home in the distance and dashed immediately, evading the surging crowd. Breaching the threshold of her front door, Ayanda's desperate cries for her mother went unanswered. Panic seized her as she scoured each room, her heart pounding uncertainly. The answer eluded her until she turned the doorknob leading to the kitchen…and the sight that greeted her shattered her world. Her mother's lifeless body lay against the corner of the room…with a thick pool of blood around it. Trembling, Ayanda approached her, hoping that this nightmare wasn't real. But the ghastly truth stared back at her – her mother's blood staining the ground, punctuated by multiple bullet holes piercing her chest and a fatal wound to her head. A third explosion erupted nearby before she could unleash her anguished scream, jolting her senses. Driven by instinct, she sprinted out of the house, following the surge of fleeing bodies. Her path was straight ahead, leading her to an uncertain fate.

A huge carrier truck that was picking up people loomed before her. And there was a frenzied crowd clamoring at its front, desperately vying for the driver's attention and any available space onboard. Ayanda skillfully maneuvered through the throng, her small hand raised in a plea for assistance. The driver saw her and deliberately ignored her. And she was jostled aside by an irate bystander. No one ever liked stray children. They were too stubborn and criminalistic. But Ayanda's spirit remained unbroken as she moved on. As people clamored to board flying Ubers and taxis, Ayanda pressed on, scanning the faces for a benevolent soul. "Ntombazanyana!" A man's voice called out to her, offering respite from the turmoil. He whistled and pressed the car horn as well, drawing her attention. Ayanda noticed it. Her eyes locked with his, and her heart quickened with newfound hope.

It was a plump man with hairy arms and legs and a scruffy beard. He had a sturdy four-by-four Land Cruiser. Three of his friends were inside the vehicle already. Hastily, she made her way into the vehicle. The man hoisted her up, secured a seat in the front for her, and ensured she was buckled up. The engine roared to life and surged forward, leaving the pandemonium behind. Ayanda watched the chaos continue to loom as the man drove past others in desperate need of help. Ayanda's eyes caught a woman crying on the side street as her son died in her arms. Highly exhausted and laden with sorrow, Ayanda succumbed to fatigue. Her weary body found solace in sleep as the Land Cruiser carried her along the winding road to a destination she did not know. 

Sibasa, 9:23pm, 6hrs drive from Alexandra Township.

She was having one of those nightmares again. But this one felt different. She was running desperately through a desolate wasteland, clutching a drum-like contraption. She saw a man with dreadlocks stretching his hand, reaching out to her. She was rushing towards him, but her feet faltered, and she stumbled to the ground, and a demon-like monster pounced on her…

But a voice jolted her awake. It was the man urging her to abandon the vehicle. Her eyes slowly adjusted to her surroundings and realized they were stuck in highway traffic. Peering through the window, the other occupants were disembarking and gathering their belongings. The man and his friends followed suit. They packed beer, meat, bread, and snacks and loaded themselves with electronic rifles, golden pistols, EMPs, and heavy equipment that anyone in their right mind could tell was smuggled. He knew a shortcut to cross the border to enter Botswana and then to Zimbabwe, but they had to continue their journey on foot. And they had to journey into the woods. Despite Ayanda's trepidation and the impending danger she did not know she was heading to, she pressed on. Her steps aligned with the group's determined stride, going through with their migration plans. 

They walked for what felt like days, minutes. They ate and drank along the way. And their food was running out quickly. It stretched into interminable moments as fatigue seeped into Ayanda's weary limbs. She could bear the weight no longer and stopped beside a nearby tree. The men agreed to rest for the night, pledging to resume the trek at daybreak. The flickering flames of their campfire danced in the darkness, illuminating their shared meal. Overwhelmed by weariness, Ayanda surrendered to the embrace of sleep.

But a few hours later, an unease gnawed at her soul, sensing the vulnerability of their exposed sanctuary amidst the open wilderness. And in a cruel twist of fate, her slumber was shattered by a chilling realization – the touch of a man's hand upon her legs, violating her innocence. Restrained by the grips of the other two men, Ayanda's screams pierced the night, and her desperate plea for help echoed through the wilderness. Silencing her with a dire warning of attracting wild animals, the man shamelessly undid his belt and unzipped his trousers. He stripped away her panties, and Ayanda's cries of terror reverberated the night. Refusing to surrender, Ayanda mustered every ounce of her resolve, trying hard to escape.

Chhrr! Chrr! Snap! Those were sounds of rustling leaves and snapping sticks. There was a growl coming from the bushes. Anticipating a savage creature, they fumbled for their weapons, desperate to fend off the perceived threat. Ayanda fled, seizing the opportunity. She sprinted with all her might, drowning out the men's pleas for her return. Two raging boars came out to attack the men. Gunshots rang through the air, but her focus remained steadfast – her only aim was to distance herself from the horror she had endured. Exhausted, she sought refuge again beneath a towering tree. This time away from the trouble for good. She went on her knees, with tears mingled with her anguish. Overwhelmed by her pain, Ayanda found no respite to process the unspeakable trauma inflicted upon her. She didn't even bury and say goodbye to the only family she had left. It was simply too much for her kind soul to bear. She lay down on the ground, almost lifeless, and with her heart shattered. She had nothing to remember her by…

But her weary eyes caught sight of a particular symbol intricately carved into the trunk of an old tree. She had seen a symbol that held deep significance in the ancient tales her mother used to share with her by the light of their humble home. Her mind returned to those evenings when her mother would gather her close. She told Ayanda about the legend of the Ngoma-lungundu, the sacred drum of the Venda. It was the drum of the dead and the voice of God. It belonged to the departed ancestors of the Senzi. No one except the king or the high priest could beat or even see the drum. Mwali, the king, could perform miracles with it. He spoke through the drum and made his six carriers hold it. And if it dares

Brighter Days,  5

touched the ground or anyone played it and saw it, that person would be punished. And her mum drew the symbol on the ground, which was what was implanted on the drum.

As Ayanda stood before the carved symbol, she felt a surge of hope intertwining with the weight of her grief. Could this mean all the tales Mum mentioned were real? She traced the intricate lines of the carving with her trembling fingers, feeling a newfound strength welling up within her. At that moment, she solemnly vowed to find the drum and carry it to the people of South Africa to honor its legacy. Because that was what her mum wanted her to do.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a scream for help from a distance. She rushed to find out where the noise came from. There were hyena's surrounding a woman as she held a sharp metallic knife, driving them away while trying to climb up a rock to avoid them. But she was injured. Ayanda acted swiftly, her adrenaline fueling her determination to save the woman from the relentless pack of hyenas. She had in her pocket a whistle. She fearlessly rushed towards the predators and blew the whistle as loud as possible. The hyenas momentarily went back, but now their attention was all on Ayanda. As the woman seized the opportunity to climb up the rock, Ayanda desperately reached out her hand, urging her to help her up too. The woman…callously dropped the knife down to Ayanda and swiftly disappeared without a second glance. The shock and hurt radiated through Ayanda's being.

Left with no choice but to face the approaching hyenas alone, Ayanda gripped the knife tightly. She darted in a different direction. Her young legs carried her as fast as they could, but the relentless predators quickly picked up her scent and pursued her. Her thoughts were consumed by regret and self-blame. Just as she felt the hyenas closing in, Ayanda collided with a stranger who seemed to materialize out of thin air. Sensing her panic, the man assessed the situation and realized the danger ahead. As if summoned by the stranger, another man emerged, armed with a formidable flamethrower. Flames erupted from the weapon. The wild beasts, intimidated by the ferocity of the fire, retreated into the shadows. The threat was neutralized. It was a bitter lesson learned – not everyone possessed the same compassion and selflessness that Mum had instilled within her.

"Hey, what are you doing getting yourself into trouble like that? What's your name?". She didn't understand a word. Frustration flickered across the guy's face as he realized their language barrier.
"Yeah, I don't think she understands Reyes."
"I know Charles…I know. Just get the translator for us, will ya?" 

Charles pulled out a mini AI translator. However, to their surprise, the device failed to recognize Ayanda's native language. They resorted to gestures and simple words. Reyes, with his tan-skinned curly dark hair, brown eyes, and chest hair, introduced himself and his fellow travelers, Luther, Bridget, and Charles. Luther and Bridget were dark-skinned. Charles was light. They conveyed their purpose as scientists/explorers on the cusp of a groundbreaking artifact, emphasizing its importance to the world. Ayanda's eyes widened with recognition when they mentioned a drum. She nodded vigorously. She knew exactly what they were talking about. The team discussed each other, realizing her potential value. The explorers welcomed her into their group. 

As Ayanda and the explorers were moving, Reyes tried so well to explain to Ayanda that he loved South Africa. But one day, his family died from the apartheid. There was a sudden attack on his family; they all died, and he was not there to save them. But he was the only one that had this same effect. And that's when he found the rest of the team. And so together, they vowed to find the drum to magically transform South Africa and turn it into what it was supposed to be. But CLIMAN's embarking on a new project. Because they were looking for the drum. And they have found it. They were not planning to use it for good purposes. As of now, they are discovering how to exploit its power. And they couldn't let it fall into the wrong hands. Ayanda immediately connected with Reyes, drawn to his infectious enthusiasm and carefree nature. Even had a crush on him.

After a long and arduous journey, they finally reach the site. The cooperation's operations were a sprawling expanse nestled amid rugged terrain. Miners and construction workers were all over. Portable laboratories, protected by durable transparent domes. Scientists, clad in special units. Diligently working with AI machinery to unravel the enigma of the drum. At the heart of the site, one such laboratory was a hub of intense exploration and analysis. The explorers already devised a plan before they got there. And it was time to execute.

KABOOM!

The explosion reverberated through the air, captivating everyone's focus. Ayanda and the explorers skillfully maneuvered through like it was a stealth game, trying not to get caught. They sneaked into the leading laboratory and located the drum. Luther, the strongest in the team, gently released it from the machine's grasp. But the alarm was sounded immediately after one of the miners spotted them. They open-fired toward them, and the team split in different directions. A bullet hit Luther's upper left shoulder, causing him to crash the artifact to the ground. The impact sent shockwaves through the area, triggering an unforeseen chain of events. Thunder roared overhead, and to their astonishment, a tornado materialized in the distance. Chaos erupted as the armed miners found themselves under attack from the beasts. The atmosphere crackled with an inexplicable energy. From the wilds, fierce lions, with their eyes blazing in a fury, emerged, devouring any human in their path. Amid the turmoil, Ayanda and the explorers seized the opportunity to escape as she instinctively retrieved the artifact from the ground. The leader of the opposing forces emerged from the shadows, witnessing their escape. He vowed vengeance upon the audacious adventurers, swearing to find and kill them all.

After hours of exhilarating pursuit, the team laughed and cheered as they recovered the drum. Ayanda, brimming with joy, stood among them, envisioning a future where she could be part of their noble mission aiding her fellow people in their time of need. 

But something didn't feel right…she had that wrenching gut feeling again like the last time.

Bridget suddenly grabbed Ayanda by her hair and viciously wrenched her to the ground. Agonizing pain surged through Ayanda; 's body, leaving her partially dazed and disoriented. Tears streamed down her face as she cried out in anguish, but her cries fell on deaf ears, silenced by the greed and desperation of her newfound friends. Reyes came up close to her, taking the drum from the ground. His voice was laced with cold determination, preparing to divulge the unsettling truth. It turns out Reyes was telling the truth. He and his team's family were murdered. And so, he did want to use the drum to turn South Africa to what it should be – burnt and rotten in hell. Reyes's vengeance story left a significant mark on Ayanda. As the explorers were about to leave, Ayanda's survival instinct ignited. She lunged forward, toppling Reyes to the ground and causing the drum to slip from his grasp and crash against the earth's soil. In that fateful instant, a surge of calamity rippled through the air, the consequences of a disrupted equilibrium.

The deafening chaos that followed manifested in the form of CLIMAN's soldiers, drawn by the disturbance. Without hesitation, they unleashed a barrage of gunfire upon the unsuspecting explorers. Their once victorious spirits were extinguished in a horrifying hailstorm of bullets. Ayanda, seizing a flicker of opportunity, clutched the precious drum tightly and ran like her life depended on it. The soldiers, relentless in their pursuit, closed in on Ayanda. Her agonized screams reverberated through the landscape. She slowed down a little…remembering that she had seen this in her dream. But due to her sudden choice, A bullet found its mark, searing through her left leg. She screamed. "She's wounded!" One soldier screamed. Yet, through sheer willpower, Ayanda pressed on, dragging her wounded body toward the drum that lay just within her reach. Her fingers trembling with desperation, she outstretched her right hand, and her fingertips brushed against the smooth surface. She could feel the footsteps of the soldiers approaching her. And in that fleeting moment, the weight of her ordeal and the overwhelming surge of emotions overcame her, plunging her into unconsciousness. She…

Woke up. Ayanda's eyes fluttered open, her heart pounding in her chest, her body drenched in a cold sweat. Reality and dreams blurred together in the hazy transition from slumber to wakefulness. She scanned her surroundings, hoping for a semblance of clarity, only to find herself still immersed in the forest's depths, shrouded by the velvety embrace of night. Her gaze wandered, and a chilling sight met her eyes – a haunting tableau of lifeless soldiers strewn across the forest floor. Questions flooded her mind. Was all this a dream? What happened? But then, a captivating scene unfolded before her. A man, his bare chest exposed, adorned with long dreadlocks and a wild, curly beard, diligently honed his spear by the glistering waters of a golden stone. He summoned fire into existence with a simple gesture and used it to cook fish for his meal. Ayanda got up. Wait…she looked at her left leg. The bleeding had stopped. It must have been the man, she thought. She approached him.

"Uzizwa kanjani?"  The man asked about her well-being. She responded with a fragile affirmation. The man revealed his identity to her as the drum's second carrier of the six carriers of King Bele, and he was sent, with the protection of Mwali, to guide her and protect her. Mwali ordered him to help Ayanda restore rain into the township and make the land prosperous and beautiful because he was tired of how selfish, greedy, and inhumane the people in this world were. Her intentions encouraged the very essence of Africa's heart – Ubuntu. And hence would always help and support anyone who strives to make it possible. But the second carrier informed her that because of the undying love Mwali has for her, he left her with two choices. Because what she seeks comes at a cost. She could either leave South Africa for a different country, live a new life adopted by the wealthiest parents in the entire state, and become the most successful person ever. Or she would die, restoring rain into the arid lands by the sound of the drum. The weight of information cascaded over Ayanda, her mind whirling with the profoundness of it all. And…in an unexpected turn of events…

Ayanda's decision defied logic, defied reason, yet a resolute determination burned within her. She chooses to embrace the perilous path ahead, no matter the cost. The man's surprise flickered across his features. But he relinquished his reservations, accepting her unwavering resolve. You are a good person Ayanda, the man acknowledged in his thoughts. Guiding her with ancient wisdom, he imparted the sequence that would unlock the drum's hidden power, allowing Ayanda to unleash a tempest of rain upon the lands. Every instruction was etched into her memory like a delicate dance of rhythm and purpose. She positioned herself before the sacred artifact, her hands trembling in anticipation.

Summoning every ounce of her resolve, she struck the drum with purpose. The resonating beats reverberated through the air, intertwining with the rhythms of her spirit. Her faith surrendered her to the primal power coursing through her veins.

The following day dawned with an unprecedented downpour, a deluge that swept across the village of South Africa. Awe and wonder radiated through the community as they witnessed the miraculous transformation of their arid surroundings. News outlets buzzed with astonishment, capturing the extraordinary weather phenomenon that defied all rational explanation. Christians thanked God, and Muslims thanked Allah. In the weeks that followed, the land underwent a remarkable metamorphosis. Lush vegetation sprouted from once barren soil, embracing the rejuvenating touch of water. Trees unfurled their emerald canopies, vibrant blossoms painting a mosaic of colors across the landscape. The bountiful gifts of food and water became abundant, revitalizing the village and breathing life into its weary inhabitants. 

Amidst this renewal, the authorities, drawn by reports of the deceased soldiers, ventured into the forest. As they arrive at the somber scene, their eyes fall upon the lifeless bodies strewn amidst nature's sanctuary. Among them, Ayanda's still form lay. Her presence is a silent testament to the trials endured and sacrifices made.

Unseen and unheard, Ayanda…stood at a distance. Her ethereal essence observes the unfolding events. As the police tenderly carried her lifeless body away, she watched, her heart heavy with the knowledge that the story – her story – would remain untold. Yet, in that profound moment of departure, Ayanda's senses awakened to a familiar voice. Her mother's tender call drew her gaze toward a figure with open arms. Time stood still as Ayanda screamed joyfully and raced towards her, tears streaming down her hollow cheeks. With every stride, the weight of her journey, the pain, and the triumph dissolved into the embrace of a love that transcended life and death.

Her mother's eyes beamed with pride, an unwavering light that would forever guide Ayanda's path. At that moment, she realized that heroes don't exist…but good people do.

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