One brother is consumed by prison cells for murders he didn’t commit. Unfortunately, Tshiamo and Lerato find themselves being pawns of men with greed in their genes. At the end, his loathed lover becomes a victim of preying deeds.
Although he was dating Lerato, loneliness seemed to have found a habitat in the surface of his heart. Dusk of his life was filled with conceited lies and his nurture opposed his nature. Being told to man up whilst he was a darling drag at heart. Having to herd cows when he was supposed to be pampering himself, cleaning dung while having to be discreet about his sacred gay being.
One could tell by the way he held the shovel that those hands were not built for hard labour.
But he had to walk on haunches to avoid societal shame. Growing up in the villages was the biggest curse of his life. Having to face gender scrutiny, dating people of the opposite sex just to satisfy society and its toxic manual. He would regard being in this pricking society as being woken up by the annoying sound of an ancient rusty clock. Always being told a man doesn’t cry hence he couldn’t grieve the loss of his parents.
He couldn’t make peace with the demise of his parents because he suspected foul play. The fact that his parents suffocated from butane gas raises a lot of suspicions on its own. They were the unsung heroes of his world because they never complained when he begged for dolls instead of cars, skirts instead of pants. But to his brothers this was taboo.
“A man who imitates women is disgusting,” they said.
He suffered that stigma his entire life.
After his parents’ death his life changed tremendously and he was treated like an outcast. They were a family of six brothers left and he was the last born, the black sheep. As time tossed its horn towards the hour of depression, his life started to be demolished. He started dancing around the furnace of drugs with two left feet, that wasn’t quite good for his aura.
“God, if you brought me into this world for my life to be a circus, why don’t you take me?” he thought.
A conniving voice inside his head would say, “God hates you, don’t you see this is a premeditated deed?”
The poor soul would wallow in self-pity, crying his lungs out. He attempted suicide without any breakthrough.
“God wants to keep me in this world just to punish me,” he thought.
One intoxicated night he caught himself in a huge dilemma. His four brothers took turns in raping him while the older brother was out cohabiting on the other side of town. He was his only pillar left and he would have helped him fight this injustice.
“We don’t raise demons so take this as gender correction.”
Those words constantly played inside his mind. He was left to stitch his wings as his life shattered before his eyes.
He and Lerato plotted against the four Moloi brothers and hell seemed to have fury. This incident torched his conscience and he never wanted to see the guts of his brothers. The family never saw eye to eye again.
A few weeks later the river became a safe place for his empty thoughts. As he knocked on Lerato’s door with sadness written on his eyes, Lerato could not help but feel sorry for him before he could utter any word.
“Those bastards raped me and they didn’t care whether blood was thicker than water,” Tshiamo wept.
“Whoa! Who?” Lerato asked.
“My so-called devil brothers,” Tshiamo said.
“What! Why would they do that?” Lerato asked, in utter shock.
“They said being gay is demonic and they don’t want to be contaminated. You wanna know how I am going to retaliate? I’m going to cut their penises off and feed them to them!” he yelled.
Days went by and Tshiamo couldn’t recognise the person frowning in the mirror any more.
But he was led by vengeance, and terror was now his second name. The devil’s raw stench.
Tell us: Do you think he should take revenge?