Another Road To Riches

Man is innovative, that is certain. And all innovation...well some...leads to riches. The road to riches, therefore, could be said to be the most innovated product ever.

So, it is not surprising that he innovated his way to riches by digging up a coffin and storing it in his house in order to. . . innovate his way to riches.

Well, sometime later, there being no secret under the sky, he had no choice but to seek help from the ‘wise’. Because, you see, during its short stay in the house, the coffin mysteriously became stuck and try as he might he couldn’t get it back out. . .

Peculiar News Compilation
'The Telling Is Mine; The Story Is Not'
© Dingiswayo Allan Sambo 2018

The Mother

Some years ago they buried the woman in the village graveyard. She left behind a child who was thrust into the care of her sister, the father having absconded his duty by leaving for town.

One night, recently, as the child and the sister's children were eating their evening meal outside by the fireside, the sister attending to other things inside her house, the children were delightfully startled to see the woman who had been buried, join them at the fireside and start eating with them. One of the sister’s children rushed inside to tell her mother the news. The shocked woman rushed outside and sure enough there was her sister, who had died, eating with the children.

She screamed for help and soon people flocked to the house. The woman who had died happily greeted everyone but few answered back, afraid to speak to her. The chief also came and started asking the woman all sorts of questions that would be asked in such a situation. She didn't answer any of them but continued eating until the chief asked her where she had been and she answered as if it were the most obvious thing, 'Home'.

'Where is home? Show us.'

And she stood up. That was when everyone gasped. She was pregnant! She hadn't been when they buried her. Or had she?

'Who made you pregnant?' the chief asked incredulously.

'My husband, of course.'

'Your husband? The father of this child?' the chief asked, pointing to the child who was all eyes looking at her mother with fear.

'No. Not him.'

'Who then? Where is he?'

'At home.'

'Home? Where is your home?'

'That way,' she said pointing in the direction of the north.

'Please show us where you live.'

And without preamble, the woman just started walking in the direction she had pointed. The chief scrambled quickly a party of some brave men, armed with some panga knives and spears and rushed after her and fell in behind her, keeping their torches trained on her. She walked at a brisk pace and with confidence while they followed with their hearts in their throats, ready for action should any unwelcome surprise spring up. The woman's sister had refused to accompany them.

It turned out to be a very long walk, during which they started getting concerned and thought of turning back. But the figure in front, who now didn't respond to any questions, was reason enough to still forge ahead. So they persevered and followed her still. And at around 2am, they came to a house in a clearing towards which the woman confidently strode. She knocked and after some time, a man came out and she introduced him to the chief and his party as the husband. They had never seen him before.

The chief had a lot of obvious burning questions he wanted to have answered but the woman and the husband's answers were so vague, it dawned on the chief that he needed to establish the truth another way. So he resolved when morning came to meet the other people of the village to ascertain how this couple came to be here. With some hours to go before dawn, the chief and his party made themselves comfortable outside the house. Fatigued from the long walk, they all slumbered.

They awoke to the first fledglings of dawn and the chirruping of birds to find the house was still there but in a state that looked as if it had been uninhabited for a long time. They looked for the couple but they were nowhere to be found. Consequent enquiries from the other inhabitants of the village revealed that the house belonged to a man who had died two years earlier...

Peculiar News Compilation
'The Telling Is Mine; The Story Is Not'
© Dingiswayo Allan Sambo 2018