In the eye of the storm

RYDER GABATHUSE
Staff Writer | Wednesday November 10, 2010 00:00

It happened so abruptly that it could not even give me an opportunity to plan my way out. I was literally at my wits end.

It was late Friday afternoon. Roughly after 5pm and I was just about to leave Monarch Phase Five area for the town centre.

It all started with a fierce whirlwind, throwing sand and plant particles all over the place stirring up a state of confusion and fear. Fresh tree branches were violently tossed all over the place as the storm swept through.

It was a huge red light followed by a crack of thunder, which sent us crawling for safety into the van. This was not a normal rainy day. It silenced us for a while as we contemplated the next move.

In the ensuing melee, stationary trees in this area, which were seemingly now in motion as the angry tempest gained momentum.

If it was not for my companion, Tabona Maluke possibly we could have undermined the last Friday life-threatening thunderstorm and driven through.

Our initial plan was to stay put and burn a dried tree we had earlier on chopped, but our plan was frustrated by the angry storm.

He advised that since it seemed like the gods of thunder were angry that afternoon, we shouldn't move an inch.There was noise everywhere as thunder cracked its deafening sound over the skies of Monarch. It sounded like the skies were lowered to over our heads as the angry sound of thunder reverberated across the entire area. It was like almighty God had forgotten to lock the skies and now they were emptying their might on us.

'Mo ga se pula ke diphera (This is not rain it's witchcraft initiated by a go-between)' thundered Maluke, who was accompanied by my nephew, Mpho.

A stone's throw from where we were parked, we saw the rooftop of a building in the neighbourhood airborne before it landed in an empty space without causing any further damage to the buildings in the area. As if we were watching a horror movie, there was a brief hailstorm, which hit hard on the van, followed by a storm that incessantly shook it. The whole area was gripped by darkness.

Maluke shortly received a mobile phone notification that a family house in Monarch's Area 10 location had part of its roof blown away.

On our way, our path was littered with roofing material from planks, zincs and others. The storm had blown away many roofs. Some of the roofing material would be recovered many streets away.

The mere sight of poor people crossing the dark Monarch streets with their belongings loaded on their heads signalled the seriousness of the problem.

It was a common sight for people to cross the streets heavily laden with wet beds and other salvaged property. In particular, the story of an unidentified young man who ran with his wet bed to a neighbour was touching.

He was running away for safety as the wall of his rented house had collapsed on his belongings.

His wardrobe had collapsed with his clothes trapped therein. He had just knocked off from a local filling station when he received the bad news that he was a victim of the storm.

He had no time to grant scribes an interview, as his concern was to salvage what he could. In the kitchen, his monthly supply of food was melting in the rainwater.

Maluke's 'prophecy' became even more real as more people poured into the Monarch streets to count their losses.Notably, there was a strong belief that the storm was a result of kgwanyape. Kgwanyape is a mythical dragon snake, which comes with wind and rain. Wherever it passes, it leaves an opening like that of a plough furrow, hence rainstorm or tornado.

So, Maluke is a believer of the kgwanyape story although he had nothing to back himself with.

In the aftermath of the storm, everybody seemed to be shocked by the extensive damage occasioned by the storm, albeit the rain took just a short period of time.

'Fa pula e, e ka boa gape re tla lala re dirile jang? (Should the storm return once more, what are we going to do?)' wondered one of the women that were busy gathering in the street loudly.

At Maluke's home, the storm had blown away the roof of one bedroom only and the rest of the house was still intact. This is a rented house.

As the dark clouds up in the sky darkened, the fear of the storm returning forced those who could manage to repair the rooftops of their houses like the Malukes, to use torches to work out before the worst could come.

As we finally drove away, majority of the roads in Monarch were almost impassable with trees blocking the path.It later emerged that almost all the major roads in the city were 'victims' of huge trees that had mounted illegal 'roadblocks' forcing the police, military and fire personnel to work overtime in normalising the situation.

As we finally retired home, where we found everything in order, the fear that gripped us slowly escaped as we related the experience to our family members.

But even today, I still wonder where the thunderstorm got the energy to uproot trees, blow away rooftops, shake our van and all that damage.

Last Friday shall remain indelible in my mind as the day I survived the storm that left the city talking. It was by sheer luck that we emerged unhurt. Perhaps, this was meant to give us the opportunity to tell the story.