August 13, 2022

An Honourable Occupation

I don’t know what it is. But there’s something about injustice that makes some people red or black or even mad with anger and others salivate at the mouth. It is quite an interesting ordeal to watch - the foolishness of men - from the passenger’s seat of my cousin’s ride, but for anonymity’s sake let’s name her, Lerato. I cannot legally or emotionally drive yet, but throughout my years of observation, there seems to be an unspoken required etiquette needed when interacting with officers whose morals are shaped in the same likeness of a pretzel. Or whatever other object. Gadget. Or afternoon snack option of your particularly twisted choice. And I have come to find out that there is a three-step process in worming your way out of a blue suited pickle.

Step one – Banter. Step two - Feign Ignorance. And lastly, step three – Delusion.

But for you to understand only a tiny bit of my frustration, I’m going to have to give you context. I’ll start at the beginning.

THE MORNING.

It’s a Friday and I haven’t once made any loving, longing contact with my bed. Since I’m on a new sleeping schedule, I’m holding off until 12:00pm and right now it’s about 09:43am. The gardener is at the house and he’s making music with the lawn mower. He normally takes on the soprano and mower, well, he takes the baritone.

My Aunt Minka has just arrived. She takes no breaks and proceeds to speed walk around the house - trying to get to the washing, change all the bed covers and iron my sister’s weekly load of laundry, which she comes to collect in a black plastic bag every Friday night and then sneaks it out through the backdoors like one of Cruella’s henchmen.

I should really get to bed, before I start getting grumpy and critical and when I’m critical everyone becomes an enemy of sorts, a problem uniquely made for me encounter.

But because I’m off to get my second dose - I’m here, along with you, hoping that 12:00pm comes soon.

~

The Wendy wood community centre. A little beat up, with chipped what was green and barely white paint decorating walls that are in need of much decoration, and any sort of sprucing up, really. There wasn’t much to the process. Only three twenty-minute queues, five questions asked at both registration booths, and one mini – interview with a man who behaved in such a familiar way because well, apparently every Dlamini must know their fellow Dlamini, and everyone else knows a Dlamini, because they are everywhere, so I guess it’s a ‘one in the same’ type of thing. But I’m not too sure, and I don’t care to think about it too much.

Anyway. Let’s fast forward a bit, to the main story, the reason you’re waiting.

Now, I’ve introduced you to myself of course, the gardener, the Aunty, and you now loosely know about the interviewer Mr Dlamini - now let me introduce you to critical problem number one and number two. Now with Lerato being critical problem number One, you can imagine the dilemma that comes with having your own family - if I could explain it in this way - Rubik’s cube, with 4 and a half sides instead of the full 6 - made up entirely of almost all the same-coloured sides - of whatever colour you find appealing, you can go ahead and pick one. I know, it’s weird to think about. Logically you would never really be able make out if you’re getting anywhere and to top off the confusion, this familial Rubik’s cube is sticky. So basically, she’s quite the headache, my cousin, Lerato. She just struggles to make much if any sense at all.

So, as I mentioned before I cannot drive so Lerato is the one driving us.

I’ve just gotten my second dose, so I’m quite out of it and my cousin, well she’s got a long history of unpaid tickets and a perpetually expired disc, so she’s in quite deep. And on this particular Friday, like many other Joburg drivers veering off from the highway, she gets called to the left of the yellow line, by the JMPD - Johannesburg Metropolitan Police Department - for the obvious above-mentioned reasons. Now, cue critical problem number Two, but for anonymity’s sake, we’ll name him Officer Ruption.

~

In the beginning I told you about the three-step process in dealing to questionable cops, but now, let me really help you, by detailing what I’ve learned. Just so you know, I don’t condone it. Disclaimer: It may be gross and just shy of being terribly off-putting.

Step one: Banter.

I cannot tell you of all the times I’ve witnessed those blue or puke green bodycon uniforms inspire a flinch. Provoke a tenseness of the body. And inspire the inner child of every potbellied man and woman seasoned with white and grey, fully fledge adults become so eager to please, jolly-ful, and suddenly Oh So Refreshed. As officer Ruption was approaching the vehicle, I watched Lerato, shuffling around, annoyed, and looking for her wallet. I remember distinctly looking at the time on the car watch clock thingy, telling me that it is exactly 23 minutes to my bedtime. At this point I’m extremely sleepy and uninterested in the happenings around me, but the knock on the window cues the scene I had no interest in being a witness too.

“He-lo there, my Sis-taaa”, were what came out of the policeman’s mouth, who anyone could tell was suffering from a of lack of decorum, a serious impending liver problem, and a hunger for lawlessness, corruption, and coke original, always the preferred beverage of choice. I looked at him. I looked at the watch. I look at him again - all the while his looking at my cousin, and he seemed to grow even more hungry or was it thirsty? My cousin, whose voice is normally normal, raises it up at least four octaves higher, adds about three spoons of sweetness to her rather already friendly disposition and of course she’s a giggler now too, and says, “Hell-ooo Officer, what’s the problem, is everything alright?” in which he replies with…” ahhh my Sista, you know something isn’t right.” And the banter begins or was it flirting. She called it a natural display of femininity. I don’t.

Step Two: Feign Ignorance.

Coming from an “honest” background, my parents, her parents, instilled in us just that - honesty, be it with God, the law and well anyone elderly. We grew up to be very close, my cousin and I, almost like a sister, basically my best friend. And as we aged, we began to differ, like any individuals would. But I must say that as I have grown up, I have subscribed to many of my - her parents’ beliefs, and I hope to fully ingrain these beliefs into my life. I thought, my cousin felt the same. Why did she change, or was it me? I’m not too sure, I’ll sleep on it.

~

Now, I’ve just been watching and so far, Officer Ruption could be considered the third passenger in this here vehicle, and his seat, my cousin’s lap. With the window rolled down and officer Ruption forcefully shoving his overgrown portrait into the window frame, you could imagine that I was completely invisible and definitely bothered.

As their conversation went on - back and forth their voices filled the already agitated air - saying and exchanging some pretty vulgar words such as “why don’t you give me your number”, “don’t you have something for me, my Sista”, “hahaha nooooo”, “what would you like from me”.

Now I titled this move feign ignorance, well because my cousin, completely aware of what she was doing saw no problem at all. Acting within her femininity, giving sick men the illusion of being desirable, laughing and playing coy to escape fines and consequences, puffing up chests and plastering on a picture-perfect smile so that he can, at any time, pull out a keepsake of your beauty and charm to help kick back and relieve himself of stress for when night-time comes. She was giving herself away, but I guess we all feigned oblivion. Despite the disgust I felt, I never told her why it was wrong. And she continues to see it as normal. It’s not.

It all kind of escalated in a weird way. There were at least 14 minutes until 12:00pm and with officer Ruption now already moved in, I grew more and more uncomfortable, invisible, and sadden. As their conversation went on - and as you should know by now - there is always a point in every civilian and cop relationship, after the banter of course, where money is used to smooth over any offence and wash away all due parking tickets. My Cousin reaches for a brown printed problem solving twenty rand note, and drops it on her lap, right on her thighs, so close to her privates but far from her morals. The money laid there, enticing the growling cop, waiting for him to fish out the bait. I don’t know what intensified his hunger more, the blatant foreplay, the rapid increase of happy hormones or the reward of getting a nice cold beverage after all his hard work.

Who knew problems could be coaxed with a mere twenty.

I sat watching the officer now more than I did the clock thingy and he wanted more than a twenty. His incessant drooling told me so. Out of her mouth dropped the words in a pitch shockingly unfamiliar to me, due to the high-ness and childlikeness it carried, “no officer, I have a boyfriend” – giggle, giggle, giggle - that wasn’t a lie, but it might as well have been.

Step Three: Denial.

I asked her why she performed in such a manner. She blamed corruption. I considered blaming the police officer. Blaming inconvenient timing. Blaming men? No.

I reasoned for as long as I could - mind you – it’s now two minutes past my bedtime so I am mentally and emotionally not altogether.

All she said was, “that’s what you have to do with cops, I just give him whatever cash I have in my wallet, we exchange numbers and I block him, done.”

I didn’t have much to say, I didn’t at all think she thought in a way so different from mine. I get that we’re different, naturally, we’re individuals, but she felt so strange to me after that day.

Different.

~

After the quiet ride home, I finally made it to my bed, I was finally safe, and she…him and all of it - the entire day was finally done. I was able to lay my sleepy heavy head down by the time it was 12:47pm. I laid in bed, with my curtains spread wide open, a sun-soaked room with a bird’s lull to send me to sleep. Warmth and Melody and the occasional “Kaaaaah’ sound that comes from one of those darned hadadas. I didn’t want to think too much, that’s a lie. I really couldn’t think at all. I’ve had a long day. And it’s past bedtime.

‍

Dlamini

Featured Guest Writer

Suspense

July 1, 2022

Cops and Robbers

Photo by Jose P. Ortiz on Unsplash

As their bodies shrink into tiny dots on the horizon, my sympathy for them grows with each passing wave. On the one hand, Ezekiel’s career is dead in the water now, and Sade, I mean, I taught her enough to get by if she moves cities, but she definitely can’t show her face at any of the high end spots now.

Of all the people I’ve made my pawns, I probably enjoyed working these ones the most.

‍

***

Ezekiel

‍

When I found this kid, his desk was layered in so much paperwork, I doubted he’d ever see the field. Not that he minded, of course. He’d insist everyone stop pawning off their files and reports to him, but from the other side of his web camera, I could see what no one else did.

‍

The hairs on this kid's neck stood tall every time he got close to clearing his desk. With every filed paper, the need to strap up and get to catching the baddies grew and filled Ezekiel with fear.

Nothing crazy though. Petty theft suspects. Traffic violations. Most rookies would count themselves lucky if they scored a felony case, but last time a suspect fell in Ezekiel’s lap, he all but handed him the keys to his freedom. Having chased down the perpetrator from the scene of the crime, he lost his bearings as he followed the suspect into a barbershop with no exits. Any cop worth their salt would know they had him cornered, but as he walked into the shop he froze at the sight of a dozen men who to him all looked the same. Like a deer in headlights, not sure what to do, who to arrest or who to call, he raised his gun to the roof, emptied the clip and yelled, “Everybody get on the ground and put your hands on your head.”

‍

Watching from his body cam, it was a sad sight to see. He tried his best to identify the perpetrator, but it was to no avail. His stall tactic? Cuffed everyone and called for backup so he could identify them at the station. Having made a blunder of epic proportion, he teetered on the heels of his boots as he waited for his reprimanding. Ezekiel’s face was flooded with so much blood I hoped his captain would cut him some slack. Alas, he bit his head off in front of the whole precinct for interrupting half the department's operations just to let a murder suspect go because of his bad memory. Even from a couple dozen miles away, it was tough watching as laughter and snarky remarks from colleagues forced his head to hang low. The 360 surveillance cameras gave me a live feed of degradation and suspension. After sitting through that, I knew he would be the perfect pawn in my master plan.

‍

It took a while for him to take my advances seriously. Every email I sent him he would send to his spam folder. In my defense, I had to keep things as vague as possible, which often means coming across as a Yahoo Boy fishing for a chump to scam. There is no good way to say I’ve been watching you fail at serving and protecting from miles away through your web and body cam. The police do not take kindly to hackers. However, he eventually caught on.

One fateful day, with the sun's dying embers illuminating his corner of the office, and everyone logging off for the weekend, Ezekiel stayed behind to download a box set of Two and a Half Men using the office's Wi-Fi. As he set up his home laptop, I hit him with the ‘I know what you are doing’ email, and he bit like a fish in freshwater.

‍

‘It’s not what you think.’

‘Oh, but it is. You think you are the first one to stay behind and ‘work late’ on Friday night?’

‘Okay, you got me. But please. Don’t report me to HR. If it’s banking details you want, I have my ex’s card details, you can do whate-.’

‘Lemme stop you right there. I’m not here to extort you. I’m here to help you.’

‘Help? With what?’

‘Your sorry excuse for a career. You think no one else has noticed your handcuffs and pistol gathering dust ever since your last field hiccup a couple months ago?’

‘Oh, you mean that? Nah, no one is talking about that anymore. Everyone’s cool now. Water under the bridge.’

‘So you think.’ And with that I attached dozens of screenshots from conversations amongst his co-workers about how much of a loser and waste of space he was. ‘Fast File’ was what they were calling him now, since the only thing he’d become good at was doing everyone's paperwork for them.

For a while, he sat, mouth wide, and eyes squinted at his screen as he scrolled through the messages. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Having sunk into his seat, he eventually returned to his keyboard,

‘Okay, so where do we start?’

‍

Fine tuning our approach to his stagnant career was a series of trial-and-error episodes that saw me teaching him how to approach a target without getting made, what to do when your suspect covers all his blind spots, and if not the hardest part of all, mastering our communication as he traversed the city through short cuts I identified for him and loopholes I created for him. It was not long before he cleared his name and began earning the respect of his coworkers.

‘Jeez Zeek, if I knew you were this good in the field, I would have sniped you as my partner months ago.’

‘So, where has this side of you been hiding all along?’

‘Who’s gonna do our paperwork now that you’re Mr. BigShot?’

The compliments were raining in and he was finally the cop I knew he could be. It was at this moment when I began implementing the next phase of my dual plan.

Having solved more cases than any rookie in such a short space of time in the department's history, Ezekiel earned the prize of being assigned to a case that had alluded everyone in the district, but not for the reasons, he thought.

The suspect in this case was as cunning as they come. A bank robber who had dribbled a dozen wealthy men and made off with millions of their money.

Beautiful. Seductive. Silver tongue. All her victims had more or less the same to say. Everyone believed if anyone was gonna bring it home, it was going to have to be Ezekiel. Little did anyone know he was about to go up against someone just as good, if not better than him.

‍

Sade

‍

Small girl in a big city. Impressionable and naïve. The perfect target to make my own. When I first spotted Sade, she was dropping resumes in every casting office she could find. Eager to work and pick up any job she could come across. Little to her knowledge, her target market wanted nothing to do with her.

‍

College dropouts don’t exactly signal perseverance. Especially when they do it to chase a career in film. With bills piling up and barely any call backs from her auditions, Sade took to the bars. With a few days left to cough up her rent, she was able to snag a couple of shifts at a sports pub near her apartment building. The clientele were as basic as they come, working-class men with just enough money left over from bills to splurge on anything that would ease their minds, something Sade knew all too well about.

‍

The way she worked the counters, you could tell she was raised on the fundamentals of servitude. She came from a good home where the men did all they could to provide and protect their families, and the women played supporting and stabilizing roles. But when The War hit, many families were left without men to take those leading roles. With no one to serve but herself, Sade took her life by the horns and traveled to the big city where her servitude has come in handy once again, but this time its evolution is taking a dark, villainous turn.

‍

She’s gotten good at working her crowd. All it takes is a conversation or two for her to figure out whether it’s work or marital stress that guys are trying to drink away. She’s picked up on the postures that signal an employer from an employee. Quickly learning how to pick out which one in a group of males was the alpha by measuring who took up the most space in a section. It didn’t take long for her to come into her own and start making big bucks off her talents.

‍

Big tips. Persistent attempts by potential suitors. Assistant job offers from men who couldn’t get enough of her. She was reeling it all in, and it was at this point that I decided to make my introduction.

‍

After a slow night, with barely any tips and no one offering to drive her home, Sade was finishing up in the back office, balancing the books and throwing the night's take into the safe.

‍

‘I see you’re doing well for yourself these days,’ my message dropped into view on the office computer, startling her in the process.

Staring at it for longer than I would have expected, she eventually responded, ‘Excuse me?’

‘That Sade who came to town to chase her acting dreams never stood a chance. But this new you is what this city needed.’

Glancing around to see if someone within the building could be sending her the messages, but she had locked herself in before going into the office. ‘Have we met before?’

‘Yes, and no. You have a lot of people who come into your bar. I doubt you would remember me.’

Smirking, ‘Try me.’

‘How about we focus less on who I am and more on what I can do for you.’

‘Which is?’

‘Make you rich, beyond your wildest dreams.’

‘What do you have that I don’t?’

‘Vision. Foresight. Tact. If You want to find out more, smile at the camera and I’ll know to be in touch within a couple of days.’

And with the biggest grin, Sade bid me farewell before switching the computer off and packing it in for the night.

‍

With every passing week, my grins grew closer to the lobes of my ears. Her acting aspirations prompted her to try on different personas in her spare time, which made my life easier since I needed not walk her through how to get into different characters for the sorts of jobs I had lined up for her.

The document scouting and signature copying is what took eons to teach. Granted, it’s not every day you have to impersonate someone's wife, but for the sorts of scores we had lined up, she could have made my life a tad bit easier.

‍

‘Now read it back to me,’ I ordered through her ear piece.

‘08..4854857..6297212… damn it!’

‘That’s the fifth time we’ve gone over this. Do you need to take a break?’

‘dO yOu nEeD tO tAkE a BrEaK. No sir, what I need is for you to get off my back and stop reminding me how bad I’m doing.’ Though I wasn’t physically present, I could still make out the way her veins were pulsating on the edges of her forehead. With the way she gripped the ends of her dining room table, it was probably a good thing I maintained my distance.

‘Okay, how about this. In psychology, they say the best way to remember something is to either attach an emotion to a memory, or group information together. Considering the nature of the work we are soon to be doing, you are going to need to do both.’

‘Oh, so like, with these numbers? I just what, bunch them up or whatever?’ She said as she ran her finger across the practice bank statements.

‘Basically yes. Generally people work with clusters of 3, but because you are gonna be pressed for time and don’t want to give yourself away, we are gonna work with 5.’

With a huge inhale and a shot of 1818, she finally replied, ‘Let's get to it then.’

‍

As the leaves fell to signal winter's arrival, so too did Sade’s resignation from her bar job stamp her shedding of her old, less rewarding life. Even though we were only about to tackle our first job together, her surety about the damage we were about to do exuded through my earpiece.

‘I know I tend to draw the boys in with my knockers, but even this is new territory even for me,’ she said as she examined the different ways light bounced off her loosely covered bust and back.

‘Your mark’s favourite colour is red. If we are going to get him to notice you, we need to pull out all the stops. We need him to think he chose you, and not the other way around.

‘Yeah yeah I hear you. This isn’t my first rodeo.’

‍

Even the prettiest of faces couldn’t just walk past this particular red velvet rope. I tracked our mark’s movements, Havier, from his home till the club, making sure Sade arrived long enough before him to see her beg and plead with the bouncer to let her in, before he could put on his cape and save a damsel in distress.

‘It’s okay, Roco, she’s with me,’ Havier announced as he pulled up beside her, staring her sharply in the eye as he unhooked the rope.

‘What a gentleman.’ Holding his stare, smirking as she waltzed in before him.

‘More like an angel, but I’ll take it.’

‍

Necks almost broke as the locals drooled over Harvier's latest score. Keeping with his reputation of surrounding himself with fine women and expensive liquor, that night seemed like a regular for him at King of Diamonds, a gentleman's club revered by many, but accessed by few.

‘So this is where powerful men come to get away from the stressors of the world?’ Sade asked, with one hand on his knee, the other pouring a perfectly balanced glass of Courvoisier and apple juice.

‘No my darling, this is where we come to concoct the stressors of the world,’ exhaling with his whole body before taking a double sip of his drink and locking in on Sade’s smirk ridden face. ‘This is really good. You enjoy fine liquors?’ his interest peaked.

‘No, not really. But I do know men. What they like. What they need.’

‘Oh is it, my dear?’ He said as he shimmied over, closing the gap between their two bodies.

Running her fingers through his curls, sizing him up from his Carvelas to his Cubans, the links shining under the purple lights.

‘I know that you like a good teasing, a bit of a chase. You’ve made it so big in your career, you just get handed opportunities, money, women,’ with every word, pulling him slightly closer, his hands now running up her arms. ‘You miss the thrill of the game. Being out on the hunt. Playing your best moves, switching up personalities and trying different lines on different women. Getting the biggest kick out of the hardest seductions.’ And as he leaned in to agree, his warm breath barely breezed past her neck before she subtly slid out from under him to nest by the railing overlooking the dance floor. Her back to him, silently celebrating the grip she now had over him. Though her eyes sparkled like a firework that just went off, her deep inhales and long exhales signaled she was working to calm herself down before she went for the jugular.

‘You, madam, are like no one I’ve met before.’ He managed to let out, drink in one hand, phone in the other.

‘So what are you going to do about it?’ Finally turning to face a man whose face screamed more. Please. More.

‘I’m gonna call my driver to come round,’ motioning to the phone, ‘and we are going to go back to my place where you are going to give me the chance to win you over and show you the best time of your life.’

‘We’ll see about that. Lead the way, sir.’

‍

Men like Havier make the best marks. They work soul crushing hours and over indulging in any pill, powder or liquid that will help keep the edge off. When that doesn’t work, they turn to youthful women with loads of energy, curious minds and sensational bodies to help them briefly escape their mental hells. The whole ride home, he barely got a taste. With men like him, it’s more about everything that happens in between start and finish. The slight touches, dirty talk, body talk. All Sade had to do was keep his throat wet and his nose chalked up. Supporting but never participating.

‘You are gonna need a lot more than that to keep up with me. I’m not easily pleased.’ And by the time they pulled into his garage, she knew all the hard work was done. His driver didn’t get involved after getting home. Last driver to do that barely had a career in the city. Last thing you want to do is meddle in the affairs of the rich and powerful.

She was his for the taking, and within an hour of drunken cat and mouse, he was tuckered out and crashed into the sofa bed, releasing her to scavenge his home for what she really came for.

‍

‘Could a man be any more careless?’ Sade whispered as she made her way through Havier's office. Sticky notes with passwords and account details sparsely populated the peripheries of his desk. His wife eyeballed her from picture frames that screamed overcompensating. ‘Something tells me I’m not the first, probably won’t be the last either.’ She said to the pictures, ‘but don’t worry, I’m not like the rest. I’m with your mans for different reasons.’

It took her about 30 minutes to gather all the information she needed, before leaving a note to Havier thanking him for showing her a wonderful time.

We should do this again sometime. You’re such a generous, carefree man.

‍

Like a fish in water, Sade cleaned out all the gentlemen in the clubs. Carefully picking our targets, subtly seducing them before putting them under and rummaging through their most personal spaces for the gold we came for. Sade was in her element, but she was starting to make a name for herself. People were beginning to talk, and that was my cue to wrap things up and start moving on.

‍

‘You know what you have to do, right?’ I asked as she fixed her wig in place.

‘Yeah yeah, I’m the wife, looking to make a withdrawal on my husband’s behalf.’

‘Great. You remember what Lewinski’s signature looked like, right?’

‘Yeah yeah yeah. Gosh, when did you become so OCD?’

‘Since we started the most crucial part of our plan. This is the final leg.’

She knew I was right. This was not a regular bank we are about to rob. Coffee and tea upon entry. Chandeliers dressed in diamonds and customer service so good you would think you own the place. The whole nine yards. Understandably so considering every one of their clients was worth at least seven figures, and we were about to take one of its clients for almost all they had.

‍

‘Good morning Mrs…’

‘Lewinski. Howard, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me already?’ gasping and pulling back from the desk as she let the words jump out from her.

‘No, no. It’s just, you look so different, and we were not expecting you back so soon, since yo-’

‘Why are you acting like I’m the first woman to gain a couple pounds in all the right places? Where is your manager, I bet he would love to hear how judgemental you are being right now.’ She said with her sunglasses low enough to pierce his soul with fear of firing.

‘No, no. That won’t be necessary. Let me know how I can be of service and we’ll get straight to it.’

‘I thought you would never ask. I need to take out 500 000.’ Letting the figures sprawl out into the air between them as she scrolls through her social media.

‘In…in cash?’

‘Would you prefer it were in donkeys and baboons?’

‘No, no. It’s just that you have never taken out so much, and I don’t know if we even have protocols for that sor-’

‘Listen Howard. You see this?’ Sliding her phone across the table to him, a photo of a red velvet lingerie set lay on a bed, next to a bottle of champagne and cigars. ‘This is a photo I just sent to my husband to thank him for letting me run his business proceedings for him whilst he enjoys some much needed rest. So you can either walk me into that vault and count up my money, or you can drop the ball and risk losing one of your biggest clients. Choice is yours.’

And like any man who appreciated his secure, high-paying job, he quickly abided. It took about 10 minutes to load the stacks of cash into two duffle bags. Howard was surprised she could carry both without breaking a sweat.

‘This was way too easy,’ Sade Whispered to me as she waltzed out of the bank and back to the car.

‘So what’s next?’

‍

The Template was flawless. We hit 10 banks and made off with 11 million in 3 weeks. We had to act quickly before word spread faster than we could swindle. All the desk boys were none the wiser. Some needed some extra convincing - a slight flirt. A nip tease. Nothing was too much for Sade, and I cared less about her morals and more about the cash. As much as she was a star player, I had hit my target, and now it was time to cash out.

‍

***

‘I heard you’ve been having a hard time solving a case that has everyone's panties in a twist.’

‘More than you know. Whilst you’ve been ghost, I’ve been tasked with tracking this con artist who’s made off with millions from a bunch of private banks.’

‘Unlike you, some of us don’t have someone on the other side of the screen doing all the work for them.‘Any leads?’

‘Barely.’

‘Need help?’

‘I thought you would never ask. If there’s one person I’m sure can find her, it’s you.’

‘Sure, but if I do this for you, I need you to do something for me, to prove your loyalty.’

‘What is it?’

‘Kill her.’

‍

***

‍

‘You know, now that I’ve finally met you in person, I’m a bit overwhelmed. I envisioned you being this scrawny, hunched geek with thick lenses and bad acne.’

‘So the typical hacker stereotypes, huh? Well, I’m glad I under delivered’

‘Yeah well, with all the time we have on this next trip, I’m sure you can think of some ways to make it up to me’ She said as she leaned in, trying to spark some sort of moment, but all I could focus on was the shore line getting closer and closer to us.

‘As fun as this has been, I can’t wait to do damage in our next city. Are you finally gonna tell me where we are going?’ Eyes gleaming, her palm nested on my forearm.

All I could do was stare past her unassuming eyes and smile.

‍

Then came the hardest part. As I carried my luggage onto the boat, I sent a message to Ezekiel to come and close his case.

‘So you’re gonna let me carry my own bags?’ Sade said as I returned to land.

‘No no, there is a man coming to get them,’ which was infact the truth. ‘Why don’t you go wait in the car whilst I get the boat running? It’s pretty chilly out here, the last thing we need is for you to catch a cold.’

Her obedience is probably what I’m going to miss most. For a second her cheshire smile gripped me through the windshield of the SUV we came in, but the gleam of Ezekiel's squad car caught my eye from the top of the hill, signaling me to make my departure.

With only a few minutes to get the boat running, I turned my back on Sade and headed down to the control room.

‘I need us up and out of here ASAP!’

‍

***

‍

‘I swear on everything that is good in this universe, Take another step and I’ll shoot you where you stand.’

‘Calm your tits. I’m obviously not going anywhere.’

‍

‘Good, 'cause carrying you to your grave would have been so much harder if I had to kill you here.’

‍

‘Excuse me? Killing me wouldn’t give you the chance to catch that bastard who's just made off with all my money.’

‍

‘I doubt that highly. I’ve been looking for you. Last I checked, you didn’t have any accomplices. Now shut your mouth and get in the car.’

‍

‘You’ve got it all wrong, pal. I am the accomplice. The mastermind behind all this pulled the strings for the comfort of his desktop. I met him for the first time today.’

‘Wait what?’

‍

***

‍

Sade didn’t owe me any loyalty. After the way I left her for dead, I’m not surprised that she sang like a bird. Luckily for me, she’s dealing with a man cut from the same cloth. It’s just unfortunate he wasn’t cop enough to shoot on sight. I should’ve known better.

‍

‘So let me get this straight. You met him…..’ Points to laptop.’

‘Mmhhmm’ Arms crossed.

‘And he trained you to steal…..’ Points to seized documents.’

‘Mmhhmm’ Nods head.

‘And he took off with all the money?’

‘Mmmmhhhhhmmmmmm.’ Head in hands.

‍

The disbelief in Ezekiel's face was assuring. He knew he had to let the case die where he stood. Sure, he had the girl that everyone had been looking for. He had all the evidence he needed to track me down. But to pursue things further meant his own downfall.

He knows what bringing me in means.

He knows what I can do to his career.

Sure, millions were stolen, but no value could be put on how much he would lose if his truth got out. So he did what every selfish, sane man would do, and let Sade loose.

‍

‘You’re letting me go?’

Yeahp.’

‘But why? You have everything you need to go after him.’

‘I do.’

‘So what gives, Sherlock?’

Staring in the depths of his eyes, she can sense a familiar sadness. Like he’s scared or fearful of what lies on the other side.’

‘Just like you, I was a pawn in his game, too. We were the marks.’

And with those words he returns to his cruiser. Her jaw dropped and mind blown as she watched him ride off into the sunset.

‘Well played, Simeon. Well played.’

‍

Thriller

February 25, 2022

Too Fast For Their Own Good

What started out as an innocent rivalry between brothers escalated into a chain of catastrophic events as John’s need to beat his brother in a race took a domino effect that led to expensive damages, injuries, and lives hanging in the balance. The victims are numerous, yet the criminals continue to rise in number as many of the surrounding neighbors add fuel to the fire.

Innocent Dreams

John and Mark’s love for cars has grown to be a bit of an obsession. Having never had close contact with wealth of any kind in their childhood, the two brothers’ love for luxury cars could only be satisfied at showrooms and car exhibitions where they spent most of their time eyeing many of the different Ford muscle cars. Unfortunately, its these same cars that have landed them in a world of hurt years later.

The beginning of a nightmare

Years later, neither of them can afford to buy one of their many dream cars. Luckily they were able to find jobs that pay them enough to pay for test drives every once in a while from their local dealership. Unfortunately, their latest test drive has turned into a dream they wish they could wake up from, but it does not look like their alarm clocks will be ringing anytime soon.

A poorly timed redemption

The weather was not inviting at all, yet John dragged Mark to the dealership to take the new Ford GTs’ out for a spin in hopes of redeeming himself after losing their last race a few months back. Though the last one ended in some hefty speeding tickets, John was more upset that he lost the race after having talked a big game. Too bad he wasn’t going to be doing much talking after this one.

A recipe for disaster

Today he was adamant that he’d put Mark in his place, though Mark himself frowned at the idea of speeding down highways right before what looked like a terrible storm came down. Worse, these cars were not meant for suburban streets. Big-bodied cars such as these belonged on race tracks. But John wasn’t hearing it, and this only made Mark more anxious.

What could go wrong?

Mark and John were welcomed faces at their local dealership so no one thought much of it when they were thirty minutes late to return the cars. It’s not like they were going to steal them. Little did they know the brothers were in the middle of their biggest mistake ever.

The beginning of the end

Having left the dealership in a hurry to beat the rain, Mark was under twice the pressure to not let his brother win whilst also trying not to land as much as a scratch on these cars that cost more than both their lives combined. All John could think about was getting the lead in time to drive through his neighborhood who he presumed his neighbors were out in the streets waiting to see who was living up to the hype. Little did he know it was on that very street where things would take a turn for the worst.

A costly lead

Having pulled in front, John was ecstatic that his friends and family were present to witness his victory, but what he failed to see was their five year old niece wandering onto the street from their front porch. Instinctively John swerved to the right, avoiding his niece and choosing instead to fly straight into his neighbors fence. And just like his brother, Mark followed suit as the both of them drifted past the child and straight through the fence, headed for an even worse collision. Unfortunately that was just the beginning of all the things that were to go wrong that evening.

Unnoticeable rain

It was as if the rain was pouring in the background as everyone watched in shock as what started as a casual race between brothers took a turn for the worst. 5 year old Chenelle did not know what to make of her uncles who barely missed her and went flying through the next door fence and into the front wall of the neighbors house. The deafening silence that followed the crash was broken by a loud scream. Not by any of the brothers in the cars, but from someone beneath the rubble of the destroyed wall.

The first victims

Robert was in the middle of setting up his new gameboy when his tv and the wall behind him came crashing down on him at a pace he could not escape from. Before he knew it blood was gushing down his forehead from the fallout debris, whilst his lower body lay trapped beneath the fallen front wall. All he could do was cry for help, but was it safe for anyone to assist him?

Trouble behind the wheels.

Out of the two, Mark was the luckier brother. Though having suffered a severe cut across his chest from the front windows glass, and a broken arm from the impact of the airbags, John was in a much worse predicament. His lower body was stuck between the seat that was pressed forward because of Mark’s car hitting into his, and the collision with the wall that pushed the engine back and into the driver’s seat. The impact rendered him unconscious, but that mattered far less than the fire emanating from John’s car and the fuel leaking forward from Marks. It was only a matter of minutes before the cars lit up in flames, but was that enough time to save both John and Robert?

A tough call to make

Mark began digging at the collapsed wall in an effort to free Robert from the fallen debris. The adrenalin had him hyper focused and in a matter of minutes Robert was up in his arms and on quickly shuttled to safety. If only Mark knew this would be the only trip he would be making.

From bad to worse

The neighborhood’s people watched in awe as Mark rescued the child just in time before the house caught on fire. Just as he was about to go back for his brother, a big explosion set the front of the house ablaze. He hesitated for a moment, but just as he was about to lurch into the flame, a strong grip held him back by the hand.

A disgruntled crowd

The neighborhood people gripped him tight. Hiding behind the guise of protecting Mark from hurting himself in the fire, the truth of the matter was no one wanted to see John live another day. As the fire spread to the first car and Mark’s screams for them to release him grew louder, his cries were drowned out by the crowd’s cheers for what they took as a victory. If only the cops had not noticed.

Emergency Assistants, or Not?

The police, medics and fire brigade arrived as quickly as possible. John was quickly rescued and taken to the hospital whilst Mark was taken in for questioning. It all seemed as if the accident was coming to an end until more police vehicles returned to the scene in order to arrest everyone who didn’t bother to rescue John.

The truth finally comes out

After hours of interrogation, the pieces finally started coming together. Although John and Marks decision to race led them to their current predicament, one of the neighbors deliberately spilled oil across the street in hopes of causing a crash. The neighborhood had plotted against them out of jealousy for the nice cars they always used to drive. Little did they know none of them were actually theirs.

A terrible ending to a rainy day

As it stands John is in hospital on life support whilst Mark has been put in a holding cell as more of the community’s members are interrogated and charged for conspiracy to commit murder. More and more of the truth is coming out but the finer details have been laid out. Who knew a routine test drive could lead to so much carnage?

‍

Tinashe Machokoto

CEO & Co-Founder, Winners Circle

Suspense

February 2, 2022

Office Affair

‘They must think I’m a fool,’ Eve says as she paces at the scene of the crime. ‘Last night was insane, but not enough to blind me from such a blatant act of disloyalty.’ She takes pictures of Hailey’s dress on the floor, next to Chris’ pants and shirt. It’s not the strongest evidence to build her case, but it’s enough of a start. ‘I will not be taken on a ride during the most important week of my life.’

***

Eve is not your regular entrepreneur. College was never an option, but she’s just as educated, if not more, than all her peers who hold finance degrees. Ever since her parents saw her flip a bag of lollipops for double what she bought it for at the age of 11, they knew she was destined for greatness. She started her own crypto investment firm at the age of 17, taking on her peers’ allowances and investing them in a range of alt-coins that showed promise. Years later she’s about to go public with one of the biggest crypto exchange platforms in North America, but she’ll be damned if her husband and best friend think they can start an affair on the eve of her biggest break yet.

Jacob, Eve’s assistant, is waiting at her doorstep with a coffee and an Advil. His nerves are through the roof, he’s never had to keep anything from her, but it’s for her own good that he wipes the sweat off his forehead and act’s like it’s just another day.

‘The three of you had loads of fun last night huh?’ He says as he puts the car in drive and whips into the street.

‘What do you mean by that?’ Eve’s sunglasses cover the mix of hangover and rage behind her eyes. Wondering if he is in on it too.

‘Don’t act like you don’t remember! You, Chris and Hailey were inseparable last night. All the senior investors were betting on whether the three of you would hit the sack together, lol. Even Hailey and Chris were a bit more familiar than usual.’ Jacobs details without turning to see if she believes him or not.

Worry lines populate the space behind her fringe. Never in her entire life did she think the girl she’s shared every moment with since high school would sleep with her husband. The grey clouds outside her window act as a screen for her to try project the fuzzy memories from the night before, but everything is a blur. She can’t even remember the speech she gave to her team as she popped the first bottle of champagne, let alone how she got home.

Across town Chris and Hailey pattern the office in a panic. They can’t risk Eve’s embarrassment on such a pivotal day.

‘Listen up everybody. We know last night got a bit wild, but today will be even worse if any of it leaks to the papers and Eve is made to feel like a clown.’ Chris bellows from the terrace into the main office. The staff giggle and shuffle, no one can get over what they saw last night. Chris and Hailey did their best to cover it up, but no one will ever see the three of them the same ever again.

‘We aren’t taking any chances,’ Hailey dictates from behind what is usually a bar, but has been transformed into a workstation for the IT department, ‘we are gonna need everyone to line up along the wall. We’re wiping all history, stories, pictures – you name it, from last night’s event. Anything that could jeopardize our IPO and Eve’s reputation. We know last night was a lot. You saw some things that probably changed your opinion of us, but we can’t let any of that get out, okay?’ She asks rhetorically. It was more of a command than a request.

Everyone shuffles into an orderly line. These couple dozen workers would do anything to help Eve out. She’s attended family funerals, paid off student debts and even donated blood to one of her workers’ children who was O+ and was in dire need of a transfusion. It would be insulting if anyone was reluctant to help now.

But they don’t have enough time. Jacob can only stall for so long before Eve catches on to what he’s doing.

If it wasn’t for the hangover Eve would be pressing Jacob to hurry things up, but she’s fine with him running a couple errands before they head for the office. In the meantime she slowly scrolls through her social media pages to watch back the stories of last night’s events, but her face slowly goes pale as she discovers everything she posted last night has been deleted. Same for Chris and Hailey. ‘They are really covering their tracks huh,’ she whispers to herself.

‘Let me see your phone, Jacob.’

‘Oh, my phone? Why?’

‘Why not? You’ve never kept it from me before?’

‘That is true. But I have some unflattering images of myself on there and I’d prefer it if you didn’t see them.’

‘Pull over.’

‘What?’

‘Did I stutter?’

Without noticing where they are, Jacob pulls in to park at the venue where last night’s party was held. The owner and staff are currently cleaning up the confetti and decorations, but Jacob is too busy organizing his thoughts to notice any of the smiling faces outside the window.

‘Is there something going on, Jacob?’ She says as she leans in to talk directly into his ear from the backseat.

‘No not at all,’ awkwardly gulping, ‘why do you ask?’

‘Because everyone seems to have scrubbed the memories from last night from their social media pages. Chris, Hailey, you, and even the staff. What’s going on?’

But before Jacob can answer, Ashish, the venue’s owner, knocks on Eve’s window, motioning her to come out for a chat.

‘I see you already got your morning dose,’ Ashish, pointing at the coffee.

‘Yeah last night was a howler,’ Eve says as she steps out the car, ‘I wish you could have joined us.’

Puzzled by her statement, Ashish looks back and forth at Jacob and Eve in confusion, ‘I was there remember. I came back later and we had a couple drinks together before the three of us took those pictures. Jacob wouldn’t stop taking so many. I thought I was seeing double when I watched his IG story.’

Eve clenches her Jaw to stop herself from barking out at Jacob. Her trust in him is slowly eroding as her mind spirals through thoughts of how he is covering up for Chris and Hailey. Her heart skips a beat as she learns where his loyalty really lies. ‘Oh yeah, how could I have forgotten. Silly me.’ They awkwardly smile at each other for a few seconds too long before she announces her departure.

‘Listen, last night was great, thanks for having us. Jacob here just came to pick up some stuff from last night, but I gotta run, I just remembered there’s something I left at home.’

The statement catches Jacob by surprise but he can’t let Ashish know something is amiss. The two walk into the venue whilst Eve gets into an Uber, but it doesn’t go back in the direction they came from, she’s headed straight downtown, for the office.

Without bothering to tip the driver, Eve storms out of the Uber and into the foyer. The guards can barely get a greeting in with the way she zooms past them, heading for the elevator where she’s packed in with a few of the other employees from last night, but they can barely hold back the sneaky smiles and grins from spreading across their faces.

‘Hello everyone,’ she says as professionally as possible, but her voice is telling that something inside her isn’t right.

They all make space for her as she breaks out the elevator and guns straight for the terrace office where she finds Chris and Eve, locked in conversation over something on the laptop beside them.

‘Why me? Why now?’ Eve says as she breaks into tears the minute she walks onto the terrace. Chris motions to the workers dispersing from the scene to close the glass doors behind them.

‘I thought you loved me, both of you. But instead I find out you’re having an affair? Right before our IPO goes out? And if that isn’t bad enough you’re using the office resources to cover it up?’ She says pointing at the IT guys who are now packing up their things since finishing scrubbing all the employees’ devices.

‘If last night had gotten out, it would have jeopardized our IPO. I know you love having everything out in the open, but last night was a bit too much.’ Chris begins reaching for her hands to calm her down, ‘you know I love you. I’ve always loved you. And this, we are doing this for yo-’

‘Shut up! Don’t tell me this is for me.’ Pulling her hands away to walk over to Hailey. ‘Was it for me when you banged my best friend in our home last night?’

Hailey, squinting and scratching her head. ‘Excuse me?’ Stepping back to fold her hands. ‘I don’t know what you think you know, Eve, but you and I go way back, and everything we’ve done in the past 8 hours has been to protect you.’ Hailey says, moving forward to try to calm her best friend down, but Eve pulls back, turning to face her employees who are not even trying to hide the fact that they are watching intently.

‘Oh, so you’re saying you used a condom?’ Chuckling at her rebuttal.

‘No dammit! We are saying you messed up last night, and we have been on the phone with all the major investors who were at the party last night apologizing on your behalf.’ Chris yells. He’s had enough of her bad-mouthing. ‘We’ve been sitting here since 4AM after we dropped you off and changed clothes because you threw up on us as we were putting you in the car.’

Eve, now drying up her tears and sitting down for what is turning into a lecture she was not expecting.

Hailey, sitting down beside her to comfort her as she details what actually happened last night. ‘You had a bit too much to drink. More than I’ve seen you drink in a while, and the celebrations kind of went south. But it’s better if we show you instead.’

Hailey selects all the video files they got from the employees phones and presses P, and Eve’s eyes dilate with each video.

*Yo Mat. I know you are a big investor and all, but next time your wife offers to bake a cake for my celebration, tell her I strongly decline.*

*Standing up on one of the tables, Eve begins twerking on all fours and singing at the top of her voice*

*Listen kids, don’t think all of yooour kids will make it if you don’t send them to university. I’m ONE of a kind. That’s why Hailey has stuck with me, and why Chris likes to, well you know ;)*

*Scampering into a corner with a trash can, Eve pees into it whilst Chris and Hailey try to shield her from everyone’s view. Don’t mind me people, I’m just letting one loose.*

The videos go on for another five or so minutes. Chris has his back to the two of them. ‘You see how you act? You see why we had to tiptoe around you all morning? You nearly cost us our jo-’

But she interrupts him with a hug from the back. ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you. I’m so sorry. I had no idea I was being a menace. I guess the work leading up to this IPO was really intense, and when I finally let it all out, I did a bit too much.’ Trying to sound as sincere as humanly possible.

‘A bit?’ Hailey says, rolling her eyes, ‘ DO you know how much of a stir this would have caused had the blog sites gotten wind of this? You’re lucky your employees ride for you, otherwise we would have been packing it up and calling it.’

And with that said Eve lunges for the door. ‘I want you all to know how sorry I am for last night’s behaviour. That wasn’t me and it never will be again. I was stressed and went a bit too hard last night, but that is no excuse for the way I acted. I hope you can find it in your hearts to forgive me, and you will all be adequately rewarded for your loyalty today.’

The floor breaks into claps and whistles. One of the benefits of working with a bunch of college graduates is they aren’t as uptight as the older gen, and have all been in some situation similar to Eve’s. They cheer her on as she skips back out to smoothen things out with Chris and Hailey.

‘So unless you guys have any other messes of mine to clean up, how about you let me take you both out for brunch to apologize?’ she says with a wide grin and arms wide open.

‘It’s gonna take more than a brunch to get us to forgive you,’ Hailey begins.

‘But it’s a good start.’ Chris finishes. ‘We can list the rest of our demands on our way there.’

The three of them walkout of the building, in hands and laughter. Eve’s always had a bad habit of jumping to conclusions, and today was no different. Unfortunately, she was the cause of her own problems this time, lucky for her she had a good set of friends to save her from herself. If only we all had friends like Chris and Hailey. Better yet, if only we could all be more like them.

‍

Tinashe Machokoto

CEO & Co-Founder, Winners Circle

Humorous

January 25, 2022

Gaurdian Angel?

‘Are you seeing this?’ Timothy moans as Tyler, his most recent assignment, tries to stick a fork in the wall socket. ‘Surely The Big Guy could have dealt me a better human to serve and protect considering how much of a nuisance the last one was,’ he complains to himself as he swoops down to switch the power off at the mains. He watches as the toddler fiddles with the socket, sighing a breath of relief that gets longer and heavier with each new human he finds himself guarding. How long until he can’t put up it with anymore?

The job of an angel is no easy task. Humans, by nature, tend to make a hash of things when left to their own devices for too long. Timothy constantly finds himself questioning why some of the most intelligent beings in the universe spend night and day making sure the latest version of the human species doesn’t blow itself into oblivion.

‘C’mon Mudiwa, you can’t tell me all this makes sense to you?’ Timothy says as the two of them settle into their seats in the nosebleeds of the Stratford End.

‘Why are you always tryna start some mess? It’s been a good week, you know. Liverpool and City drew a couple days ago. We just need to not concede in this game and we’ve won the Cup,’ Mudiwa says as he summons wind to blow the rain clouds past Old Trafford, lessening the chances of his assignment from getting hurt in this vital game. ‘Look at me? I have the best job in the world. I get to make sure nothing out of pocket happens to De Gea, the best goalkeeper in the world, and here you are trying to get me to co-sign your conspiracy nonsense.’

‘All I’m saying is we could be much more than safety nets for these guys.’ Timothy says as he jumps out of his seat and floats into Mudiwa’s view. ‘We could be and do anything we want to. Tell me you haven’t sat and thought about checking out Jupiter? Or Pluto? Or anything outside the MilkyWay?’ But Mudiwa just shrugs and motions for Timothy to stop blocking the game.

‘I don’t know about you but I have dreams to start my ow-’

‘Shhhh, this is probably it. My Tip says I’m meant to prevent him from dislocating his shoulder after a save, round-aaaaabouuuut NOW,’ and with lightning speed Mudiwa fly’s to the goals to cushion De Gea’s fall.

Mudiwa, backpedaling so as to not miss a single minute of the action, returns to their seats, ‘Okay I’m back. You were saying something?’

Timothy rolling his eyes, ‘forget about it. I’ll catch you back at the office,’ he says as he begins his ascend back to the Heavens.

Shouting up, Mudiwa yells, ‘Nah I’m all yours now. That was the only guarding I had to do for the day, assuming all the other angels on duty do their part,’ he says as he kicks up his feet and gets comfortable.

But Timothy isn’t having it. He just wants someone to hear him out.

***

‘This can’t be my life.’

*saves Tyler from drowning* Age 5

‘Yeah, being able to fly is cool. I get to go wherever whenever I don’t have any Tips, but what about my passions? My destiny? What about putting me first for once?’

*Delays a truck by 5 minutes so it doesn’t kill Tyler whilst he’s texting and crossing the street* Age 14

‘I didn’t even sign up for this. It was just ‘poof’ welcome to guardian angel duty, your assignment is over there. Now that I think about it, I don’t even remember a time before saving lives and preventing tragic mis-haps. How did I even get here?’

*Gives Tyler a flat tyre so he has to work from home to avoid getting fired for a file he was gonna forget at home had he gone to the office* Age 32

***

‘Listen guys, I’ve been thinking.’ Timothy says to break the lunchtime silence.

‘We told you to stop doing that,’ Jay says, causing laughter to break out across the table.

‘wE tOlD yoU tO sToP doInG ThAt,’ Timothy mocks Jay, ‘I think it’s time we confront The Big Guy.’ He says with a base sterner than usual.

‘Oh? And…what exactly…are we…confronting him about?’ Pasha mumbles in between munches of her burrito.

‘About this! We can’t just sit on clouds and save these idiots from themselves for the rest of our lives. You guys have a potential to live up to. Legacy’s to establish. I’m sure none of you are content with this?’ Timothy yells, pointing to the cloud they are currently sitting on for their lunchtime break.

They turn their heads to one another to see if any of them understands why Timothy has his panties in a twist. Not a single angel shares his disdain for the jobs they’ve been assigned.

‘I think I speak for everyone when I say, we’re good. Our lives are void of worry and we get to enjoy the luxuries of both Earth and Heaven, without any downside. If we have to nudge a kid to the side to avoid him getting bitten by a snake or cause it to rain to avoid a riot, so be it.’ Without lifting their heads from their meals, everyone murmurs in agreement to Mudiwa’s wise words.

Jay chiming in, ‘I’m sure we all remember what happened to the last angel who tried stepping up to The Big Guy. You want to burn for eternity too? I’m sure he has room for another.’

‘i’M sUrE hE HaS rOoM fOr aNoThEr. Shut up Jay.’ Timothy isn’t having it. Banging his fist on the table, he sulks and turns his back on them. He can’t stand their complacency. Their lack of ambition. He does not understand how one can be content with a life of servitude.

Infuriated and set on proving them wrong he floats straight up to The Big Guy’s office. He’s had enough.

With a big gulp, Timothy goes to knock on the towering doors, but before he can even make contact they swing open.

‘I’ve been expecting you,’ He says without turning to face Timothy.

‘I know you are a busy God, so I’ll cut straight to the point…Why am I here? Spending precious years of my life tending to the needs of humans that can’t get out of their own way, let alone show some gratitude for blessings they don’t deserve.’

‘I see. This is how you truly feel?’ God says without turning.

‘Yes. I just feel like I could be doing more. Achieving more.’

‘I see. So Heaven is not good enough for you? This life of peace, harmony and abundance, does not suffice for you?

Timothy, now silent, burns with rage on the inside. He knows deep down that his life here in the clouds is in fact too good to be true, but his pride won’t let him admit it.

‘This stuff is nice and all, but I need more. I need to grow.’

After a long silence, God gives him the response he has been longing for, ‘So be it.’ And with a snap of a finger Timothy vanishes from behind God’s back, wind rushing him out of the clouds and beaming him to a place he never thought he would end up. Timothy’s eyes cannot believe what they are seeing. It doesn’t take long for regret to begin brewing in his heart.

***

‘Mudiwa, I heard you got a new assignment?’ Jay asks as he packs his lunch into his travel bag, ‘who’s the lucky fella?’

‘You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. You have to come see for yourself.’

So the two of them float down to the city of Peterborough, where none other than Timothy, is finally living a life where the ‘growth’ he yearned for is fully in his sights. Mudiwa and Jay laugh hysterically as they watch him shovel snow for $10 an hour at 5AM.

‘He’s shivering you know,’ Jay says, ’he might get frostbite if you don’t do something.’

‘Nah, I’ve got clear instructions to only prevent the worst of the worst. The big guy upstairs says unlike everyone else, Timothy specifically asked for the room to grow, and with that comes harsh, uncomfortable and demanding experiences. This is a lesson he has to suffer through.’

‘Guess he finally got what he wanted.’

And the two of them watched as Timothy worked for years at a life he grew to hate more and more the longer he lived it. During his time on the other side, he could never appreciate the good things he had, but now, having been given what he wanted, he regrets ever asking for it in the first place. He hates how prideful he was for not admitting how good he had it. Only through losing the responsibility, could he learn how much of a privilege it was to carry it.

‍

Tinashe Machokoto

CEO & Co-Founder, Winners Circle

Mental Health

The Monster

She never expects him. The Monster kind of just creeps up on her. Just as she’s settling into a comfortable pace at life, he blindsides her from behind with his tranquillising presence. Sometimes in the middle of a client meeting, or in aisle four of the grocery store, he shows up and sucks out all the life from her. Dampening her morale. Eroding any sense of stability the two of them worked tirelessly to cultivate in the moments since the Monsters last appearance. Every episode is worse than the last, and he don’t know if he has it in him to stick around any longer for her.

***

She can only but feel him. His weight on her chest. His drag in her step. But I see him. In the day-old, half-eaten takeout food, mushroomed around the house. I see him in her amazing paintings, most of which he never lets her finish. As if he controls the valve to her energy, only letting it flow in his absence.

“I’m doing better these days,” she says. Time and time again. Usually whilst staring out the window, or while scrolling through her phone. Always speaking at me but never with me. Never allowing herself to see the sadness in my eyes. As if I haven’t grown accustomed to this sickly persona that takes over her every so often, weeding itself into our relationship and ruining everything it touches.

“We can’t keep living like this babe,” I say halfheartedly, as I offer her water and medication, knowing it’ll pile up on her bedside like all the other dosages. But for the sake of feeling like an accessory to the solution and not the problem, I have to try something, anything.

“You saw it yourself. I went a whole 3 months without losing it,” she says, and I hate the enthusiasm in her voice. Enthusiasm that only shows up when she’s in defense. When she’s pleading her case for more grace.

“I barely fell off. I only missed like five days of work. I ate well on most days, I even did the laundry a couple of times. If that isn’t progress, then I don’t know what you want from me.”

Despite my feelings of neglect, I have to admit she’s not wrong.

My money was on six weeks, tops. I’d become so accustomed to adulting for the both of us, I couldn’t imagine a time when she’d be holding her own. But then I started making deposits into my savings account, instead of the usual withdrawals her inability to cough up rent would have forced me into. I was having drinks after work with friends I hadn’t seen in months, re-activating my dusty membership at the gym and even picking tea over whiskey for my nightcaps. She was finally resembling the blessing I’d met her as, and not the burden the Monster made her out to be.

The glow in her skin was back, her smile reaching every corner of the room again. Her complete canvases were telling of the rebirth of her dedicated work ethic, focused from the first to the last stroke. The blissful nature of our relationship was finally filtering back in as all the gloom seeped out. It was as if the Monster had gotten bored of us.

Alas, I thought wrong.

I called to see if I should pick up dinner on my way over but it went straight to voicemail, first red flag. I was hoping in my heart of hearts to find her intact. But as I ran into her apartment, the spot on the bed she usually assumes when the Monster makes his appearance is bare. “I guess all good things have to come to an end,” I say as I make my exit and begin my search for this girl I’m not sure I want to find.

My first instinct is to rush to the bus terminal. The last time the Monster was around the two of them rode around the same bus route till one driver felt he’d seen her on the same bus, in the same spot, one too many times throughout his shift. “Miss? Is everything okay?” But she just ogled at him, before letting her head droop back into the window she’d been staring into for the last five hours.

This time is different. She isn’t at any of her favourite spots. Not at the gallery, nor at the bar. Her boss said she hadn’t shown up to work the past 3 days. Her parents said she was doing just fine when they saw her on the weekend. But it’s Wednesday, and not a single soul knows where she is. Second red flag.

Exhausted and needing to refuel before my next search, I regroup in her kitchen, but a few things are out of place from when I was last here. Wine corks on the floor. All the blinds are closed shut. She’s been here.

Between making a sandwich and ringing her phone for the umpteenth time, a crash draws my attention to the bathroom.

And there they were.

Her phone dancing across the floor because of the ringer vibrator. The two of them nested in the bathtub with a blanket and an empty bottle of Rose. Makeup ruined by what could have only been hours of endless crying. The Monster, perfectly curled around her like a python. Gripping his prey just tight enough to keep her in one place, but loose enough to keep her alive.

I don’t know if it was the disappointment or frustration that kept me starring at her from the door for so long. Whatever the feeling was it guided me to the conclusion that I can’t keep trying to save someone that doesn’t want saving, so I let her know, “I don’t think I’m up for another round of this.”

***

I was banking on him to come and pick up my pieces as soon as I fell apart. But he’s just walked out. Without offering to run my bath. Without trying to put me back together. For the first time I might have to face the Monster on my own.

I want to chase after him but what would I say once I’ve gotten his attention? I’m sorry? I’m sorry that I can’t do better? I’m sorry that I don’t? I could, but I’m scared. I’m scared that if I was normal you wouldn’t feel as obligated to stay with me. Care for me, love me. I’m scared that if I got my life together you’d do the same and finally leave me.

Uncharted waters, his resentment. It’s never been towards me but always at this condition, at this thing that’s just always been the third party in our relationship. He hates this Monster and what it does to me. Does to us. But now the resentment feels diluted. A growing grey area if he’s starting to see the Monster and I as one and the same.

I hate that I’m this way. A walking cancer. From a young age I envied the kids who were able to be chipper for no reason. Laughing on the playground and chatty in the cafeteria. I wished I could be like the normal people, who never had to have their class teacher call an ambulance for them because they were worryingly unresponsive during first period. How do you even explain psycho-motor retardation to your peers? You don’t. You just put your head down and hope the corner seat in every classroom, lecture hall, office space, is empty so that when it does kick in you can suffer behind the backs of everyone in the room.

Mom and dad tried their best to help, despite how much of a grown up I claimed to be. We saw doctor after doctor, tried an array of medications, but they always complicated the situation more than they solved it. Weight gain was part and parcel of most antidepressants, and if I was lucky they caused manageable insomnia and let me keep just a little bit of my libido.

The only thing that hurts worse than the Monster’s grip on you, is watching how it drags down everyone you love with you. I’ve watched friends lose sleep over a sickness they have no business enduring. Lovers lose themselves trying to rescue a girl who just can’t be saved, and my parents ruin their finances trying to get me the help they feel I need. I can’t bear to watch them fall apart for my sake. So every so often I make an effort to cut their losses, and put on my brightest fake smile and do as much work where I know my beloveds will see, just so they can have a breather and take the weight of my problems off their shoulders.

And It worked for a while. Mixing doses of my medications with Adderall and alcohol. These cocktails afforded me weeks of absence if I could conjure them up in time to fuel the facade of a well-adjusted, high functioning woman at just the right time to meet my deadlines and save my failing grades. I only needed to keep it up, usually, for roughly a weeks-worth of days in a month. The rest of my life has comprised of days lying in bed with the light shut out, a dim phone screen feeding me images and videos of the lives I wish I could live, and rising only when I can’t go on without food or drink.

Excuses of busy work schedules deterred possible suitors from sticking around longer than two dates. I managed to convince new friends and coworkers I was a travel vlogger as a cover up for every time I’d be missing in action for long periods of time, but really the content I uploaded was just photos and videos from places I’d been to whilst seeing new doctors who thought they could fix me.

This front. This facade I put on when I’m at my weakest, when I’m being tormented by this disorder that grows stronger every time I try to confront it. I managed to keep it hidden from everyone. Everyone except him.

When we first met I assumed our connection would fizzle out after I flaked on the dates that follow the initial spark, but he never let the fire die out. Dinner reservations turned into takeout deliveries. Ignored texts only drove him closer to my doorstep the longer I took to respond. His relentless efforts to love me despite my resistance inclined me to push past my fears, and let him see the real parts of me that were held hostage by this Monster.

He took the time to understand me and my condition, humanising me in a way that no one else ever had. He saw a future with me despite how broken I was. Built me up from the remnants of the person I used to be. He catered for me when I couldn’t be bothered to eat. He paid my bills when I couldn’t work. He was strong enough to support the both of us when everything was falling apart for me, and for that I owe it to him to at least try to cut this Monster out of my life.

It’s been a month since my last episode and the love between us is going stale by the day. Every time we sit together, the space for a third grows just a little wider. He barely cooks when he’s over, and when he does it’s barely enough for two. He’s stopped checking in as often. Kissing me as often. Loving me as often. His absence screams volumes of his disappointment in me, yet he still hasn’t left me. Probably because he knows it would break me. I don’t know how much longer I have to make things right. This might be my last chance.

Singing

“Sounds like someone has crossed back from the other side,” he says under his breath as he cracks open the door.

“Why hello there darling, I wasn’t expecting you so soon,” she says, abandoning the pots she was tending to. “Let me get your jacket. Would you like something to drink?”

“Um, just water. I tried calling but your phone just rang so I just thought…you know.”

“Don’t be silly! That was weeks ago,” she snaps back. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been so busy making dinner and getting this place ready for my baby, I completely forgot about my phone. What do you think?” Pointing out the spread she’s laid out for dinner, hoping it’ll be a good enough start to winning him back.

“The living room looks amazing. And you really outdid yourself with this dinner, but you shouldn’t have,” and he really means it.

“I had to. I haven’t been doing right by you and that’s all changing today.” She says as she moves towards him for an embrace.

But he steps back, shying away from her advance, “I think it’s a bit too late for that. we need to talk,” and the words send chills down her back.

“About what?”

“About us. This thing that’s always in between us. I don’t know if I can take it anymore. I really love you and wanted to make this work, and sometimes it does. But it never last. It feels like I’m constantly bending over backwards to help you when you don’t even want to get better.”

“That’s not true! You know how hard it can get! You’ve seen what it can do to me!” Tears welling at the base of her eyes.

“Yeah, but that’s just it. You keep blaming this monstrous illness as if you have no power to do anything about it. There’s the medication,” glancing at the unopened pill prescriptions in the kitchen cabinet, “but you never take it. There’s the doctors but you never want to see them. I can’t keep living like this. Your reluctance to seek help is ruining me and it feels like you don’t even care!” Breathing heavily to catch his breath as if a pipe had burst in him, forcing the words to come gushing out at her.

And just like that, the one good, constant thing in her life was now slipping away. She’s lost for words. He didn’t come to have a conversation. He came to make a statement. A closing remark. He stomps off to their room to pack his bags, and the sight of him emptying his drawers cue’s her Hail Mary.

“Wait! Wait! Wait! Baby please don’t go. It’s you and me remember? It’s always been you and me. I can’t do this without you. I need you. I need us,” stepping in front of him to stop him from emptying out his things.

“What about what I need?” Looking into her eyes, searching for a genuine care.

“You don’t deserve this. I know that now and I’m committed to taking the necessary steps to become the girlfriend you ought to have. That’s why I put this whole night together. I wanted to have that conversation with you. Plan a way forward. I’d even called my mom’s to get the number of the doctor I used to see when I was a kid. I want to get better, I really do.

“Show me then,” hands folded across his chest.

Instantly she scrambles to her side of the dresser, digging through drawers for evidence she needs to make her case. “Here look,” handing him a piece of paper with the details, “This is the time and place for my appointment. It’s next week. I’m not lying, I really do want to get better.”

Surprise breaking down the frown on his face, “And your job? Your already prescribed medication?”

“So I’ve already gone through the first stage of interviews for these two entry level jobs, the first stage was done over the phone and I made it clear to them that I suffer from Persistent Depressive Disorder. One of them were more than understanding and said if the rest of the interview process goes well we can definitely work around my illness to accommodate for any pitfalls.”

“Whao, okay. That sounds great. You admitting your illness to someone other than me is something I’ve never seen bef-,” but she cuts him off and pulls him by the arm and out the room. She’s not wasting an ounce of momentum and hurries him back to the kitchen to show him even more of her progress.

“I’ve thrown out all the liquor and Adderall, and I’ve started taking my meds at the right doses. See baby, I’m trying,” eyes gleaming with enthusiasm that finally has something to do with him. “I can see that,” tears falling down his cheeks, “I’m so proud of the changes you’re making. It’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”

As she takes him by the hands, “the guilt has been eating away at me. I feel terrible for the person I’ve held you back from becoming. You have all this potential. All this good energy, but you’ve wasted too much of it taking care of me and I just can’t stand it anymore. I promise baby, I want and will get better. I promise.”

And for the first time in a long time, he felt like it was just the two of them in the room. She wasn’t speaking from under the influence. And he wasn’t listening out of obligation. She was closing the rift between them and he was stretching his arms out to meet her. He didn’t want to leave her, he just wanted better for the both of them. And if she was willing to meet him halfway, he was willing to carry her the distance.

He cries. They hug. His forehead resting on hers. Both of them locked in the other’s gaze as she details all the other things she plans on doing in her climb back to normalcy. He can’t help but laugh. Giggle, almost. He’s waited years for this moment that he thought would never come, but like all good things you just can’t rush the process.

Epilogue

Life isn’t as clear cut as we often envision it to be. Sometimes we pickup unwanted illnesses and fall into unpredictable circumstances along our journey. We begin to feel as if these negative aspects are telling of our whole story when in actuality they are just thorns waiting to be plucked out from beneath our feet. We all have Monsters we’re running from but the moment we turn and face them head on they shrink and crumble. They are parts to our story but not the whole and definitely not headline. In facing our fears we realize how miniscule they are and how easy it could be to overcome them.

‍

Tinashe Machokoto

CEO & Co-Founder, Winners Circle

Action

The War

Some live a life of constant hunger for intensity.

A thirst for a higher resolution of the day to day.

But would you know what to do given the chance to realize your desires?

Sirens

Closing the curtains isn’t enough to shut out the gloom dawning over our city. Like thunder that follows lightning, the city’s emergency alarms bellow into our homes as we watch the shoreline from the veranda, our neighbours across the water set ablaze.

Illuminating the night sky, our territories are reduced to ash and first blood is drawn. The war has begun.

In the weeks that followed the nuances of bureaucracy quickly faded away. In over our heads, out-numbered and out out-matched, and still the government opts to rather risk it all than look weak to the global community.

In less than 24 hours we had retaliated. Missiles, foot soldiers; a good chunk of our defenses squandered in the first wave. A bold, but futile move against our neighboring opposition; barely making a chink in their armour.

First came anger. Then outrage. “After all we’d done for them?” My father had business in Vuma. He always bragged about having powerful friends in high places. But now? Shame and embarrassment fill the room every time he’s asked about his ‘friends’ who are now nowhere to be seen. Eventually his mind became fear ridden like the rest of them; my family, my community, my country. We didn’t know what to make of the war. Invasions were popping off in the West, some in the North, but we could’ve never anticipated what was brewing just behind our backs. These Machien Islands have only ever known peace. My people know not of bloodshed and violence. And so, I watched them, like headless chickens, running from a fate they couldn’t escape.

By the third week the neighbors started banding together. Forming alliances; as if their wits would be enough to fend off highly trained troopers eager to chain and tame us like senseless animals. Vuma had captured the city just outside the border; sending anxiety and panic to fester amongst its next victims who were spending their last few days of freedom quarrelling on who was next to go. They were dropping us like flies. Dispelling any hope we had of coming out of this in one piece.

Slowly, the men started dwindling from the local meetings. By the end of the second month my weekly spectacle was filled with teary eyed wives and distraught children, convening in front of a smoky back drop of bombshells and explosion debris scattered across our parks and driveways.

***

We often like to think of ourselves as the hero

for the sake of self-preservation

cause the villain never walks away in one piece

but what if he could?

what if your atrocities never caught up to you?

what if your demons never haunted you?

what if villains could ride off into the sunset?

***

I know my time is coming. I assume all the friends that stopped texting have either been captured by the enemy or called for duty. I’m a cocktail of emotions, with fear feeling like a missing ingredient. As history unfolds, I grow curious about the frontlines. The smell of gunpowder. The weight of swiss army knives. Do I have it in me to take a life? My life, like most people in this country, has been comfortable. Private tutors, golf on the weekends, general middle-class amenities. But it’s never been enough for me.

But now, this war is driving everyone to the darkest corners of their being, everyone except me.

We’re destined to lose. I know it. But I’d rather take a bullet to the brain, over hiding from my capturers. My family’s efforts to stash me away in the attic only creates more room for anxiety. By now they should know my fate lies on the battlefield. With every passing minute the call to arms draws nearer to our doorstep.

***

The last man in the house, whisked away in great haste. My departure was inevitable.

I don’t think I’ll ever forget the sound of her weeping voice as we drove off the estate. My mother made me swear that I’d come back, but we both knew it was an empty promise. Since the war began no one had heard from any of the first batch. We didn’t even know if my father was still alive.

With every passing palm tree, I feel a piece of myself wither away as the new identity I’m adopting comes charging in. Our squad commander is ruthless. A real army vet. He details how his first three squads had been wiped out, and by the looks of my fellow recruits I wasn’t confident our fate would be much different.

We’re losing most of our battles. Every drive back to base has more room than the last.

Just like our landmass, Machiens don’t exactly take up the most space. We’re a short, stout and jovial populace. Not threatening at all.

It’s no surprise that we’ve fallen victim to the resurgence of imperialism. I heard the Soths took over Zanilia just over a year ago, and Harari has been at war with Jhana for over 2 years now. There go my Olympics tickets, and they say Ambuga is a vibe in the summer.

On the evening before what is likely to be our final battle, I pace back and forth across my tent. The shrieks of pain, images of dismembered body parts and trenches smeared with blood, all cocktailed in the front of my mind.

As my death draws nearer and nearer; the fear I thought I was immune to has finally settled in every fiber of my being.

The latest appointed commander gives a rather underwhelming speech before our departure. I don’t blame him though, there’s no good way to send your soldiers off to their death. We’ve decided to roll out every truck, tank and plane we had. Our men are sparsely spread out across this fleet and yet most of the vehicles still remained empty. But the enemy sees through our attempts to appear strong and swiftly picks us off one by one.

This is it. Bullets are raining, grenades pouring down from as far as the eye can see. We’re throwing everything we’ve got at them, but it just isn’t enough. All around me bodies are dropping. All of whom are my countrymen.

All but one.

***

I spot him in the distance crawling out of what was, moments ago, a helicopter. Injured and on his last breathes; I know he’ll be easy to take out. This is it. This is my salvation.

Hastily I drag him into the trenches of the soon to be victorious. His cries for help are drowned out by the surrounding gunfire. As I cock my gun, everything I am about to give up races through my mind. My death, identity and freedom lie in the chamber of this gun. “It’s better I give it up now than to have it taken away from me later.” So, I put two bullets in him. Dark red flowing from his head. Quickly, I undress and discard his remains. ‘Andrew’. I’m Andrew now. His uniform a tight fit. This is it. This is war. In the few minutes it’s taken to assume this identity, my newly acquired nationals have won the final battle. We’ve won the war. Whilst others rejoice, my heart grows weary of the fate soon to be faced by those I’m leaving behind. I take one last look back before I begin my new life. “May they have mercy on my people.”

I haven’t had to do much to fit in. The former Andrew seemed to be a rather marginalized individual in the army, and to my relief, his community. They gave me his full personal details as I filed to collect the spoils of ‘our’ victory. Any information I couldn’t readily cough up I blamed on a concussion incurred in battle. No family, no friends. No one called to check in on me as I resumed his old life. It was a seamless undertaking. A bit surreal. I still can’t believe I’ve made it this far.

In the months that have followed I’ve suffered in silence as I watch my homeland overrun and stripped of its dignity. They caged them. Killing anyone who revolted and enslaving any women and children they felt would be useful in the future. My family, who tried so hard to conceal me from the inevitable, now sit in concentration camps dreading their ensuing persecution. If they are lucky, they’ll be afforded some time to work as cheap labour on Vuma’s newly acquired territory. Either way their lives are no longer their own.

Whilst I sit here, enjoying riches I don’t deserve and a lifestyle I never worked for. My heart throbs at the sight of these injustices.

Alas this is a pain I must endure. I escaped death. Bypassed the system. To throw that all away now would be foolish. All because of what, a little guilt? Shame? National pride? None of which equate to the suffering I would have to face had I stayed on the losing side. This is a hard pill to swallow and even harder to keep down, but the bittersweet fruit of another’s labour are enough to numb the pain.

This is it. This is war.

***

Epilogue

This story speaks to our growing desire for an escape from the mundane. The cage like societies we’ve boxed ourselves into. The un-enthusing cycle of modern life and comfortability of the 21st century. As human beings we tend to forget how strong our animal like urges are. We shy away from tending to our pleasures for fear that they may over power us. That we may take too much of a liking to them and devolve back into the very things we try so hard to separate ourselves from. When in reality pleasures and desires are the cherry on top of our existence, and giving into them is what makes it all worthwhile.

‍

Tinashe Machokoto

CEO & Co-Founder, Winners Circle

An Honourable Occupation

THE MORNING.

~

~

Step one: Banter.

Step Two: Feign Ignorance.

~

Step Three: Denial.

~

Cops and Robbers

Too Fast For Their Own Good

Office Affair

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Gaurdian Angel?

The Monster

***

***

Singing

Epilogue

The War

Some live a life of constant hunger for intensity.

A thirst for a higher resolution of the day to day.

But would you know what to do given the chance to realize your desires?

Sirens

***

***

***

***

***

Epilogue

Subscribe to our newsletter!

An Honourable Occupation

THE MORNING.

~

~

Step one: Banter.

Step Two: Feign Ignorance.

~

Step Three: Denial.

~

Cops and Robbers

Too Fast For Their Own Good

Office Affair

Subscribe to our newsletter!

Gaurdian Angel?

The Monster

***

***

*Singing*

Epilogue

The War

Some live a life of constant hunger for intensity.

A thirst for a higher resolution of the day to day.

But would you know what to do given the chance to realize your desires?

*Sirens*

***

***

***

***

***

Epilogue

Subscribe to our newsletter!

Singing

Sirens