The Lantern

Flash fiction

The lantern had always been there, swaying on the only bush for miles, its glow a faint flame defying the vast, black desert. Beneath it sat seven large “zeers”, always filled with water, their cool depths a lifeline for the lorries and pickups crawling through the sand like weary ghosts, carrying the elderly, women, and children fleeing the senseless fighting, dreaming of a dignified life beyond the northern border.

The fragile figure made the trips tirelessly. Her donkey trudged twenty kilometers each way, making several trips daily, the “ghirbas” swaying with water. The journey was endless, the hot sand unforgiving below her bare feet, but her determination burned brighter than the sun. “It doesn’t matter if I spend everything I have on kerosene and water,” she would tell herself. “The light of the lantern might keep hope alive.”

In the desolate darkness of the desert, the faint glow of the lantern was both a guide and salvation from deadly heatwaves, life-threatening thirst, and the void where the sand swallowed even hope.

But one night, the lantern stopped flickering.

The bush was nothing more than a shadow under the faint starlight. The clay jars sat empty. A driver slowed down, the human cargo piled in the back of his pickup on the verge of death, their mouths dry. His weary eyes scanned the horizon, searching for the faint gleam of the lantern that was always there. But there was nothing�"only the vast, unbroken dark.

Then, a flickering light emerged on the horizon.

It wobbled slightly, swinging from the hand of the village elder. Behind him, a group of villagers followed on donkeys laden with ghirbas, their hides dark and glistening with moisture. Their faces were drawn, their movements slow, but their resolve was unshaken. One by one, they reached the bush. They filled the zeers in silence. Finally, the lantern was hung, its flame catching in the darkness, as though it whispered: “I am here.”

For a moment, they stood there, their faces illuminated by its glow. No one said a word. Then, with steady steps, they returned to the village.

Above them, the scattered stars twinkled faintly. But one star, low on the horizon, shone brightly, steadily, and lovingly…

Author's Note

ghirba is a traditional water container made from sheep hide. It is used for cooling and transporting water in rural dwellings and during travel in Sudan.
A zeer is large clay water jar commonly used to cool and store drinking water in Sudan.