The fighter

Short story

The fighter
Chapter 1 the house
It’s the same old story with none of the usual characters, but the story line is the same. A young man in a very disadvantageous circumstance, which he had no hope of ever seeing the light out of the end of the tunnel but hope sometimes “prevail”, sometimes. This story entails the horrid events that occurred in the life of Jabu.
Born in the horrid and rigid side of a well-known township (Vutta) where all the shacks occupy the land and running sewage in the streets is the norm and young kids playing in that type of environment is also seen a norm to anyone, and the old folks just sitting around awaiting for death whilst young man abuse themselves with any types of drugs, whatever numbs the pain of failure.
Jabu, a young man filled with an earnest vision and too much hope which is synonym to his residence. Motherless and fatherless, with a young troublesome brother to feed, but still he held firmly to his hope to become an architect. Even though his small 1 room shack he occupied with his brother was not much to be admired by architects and with a broken window which they placed a cardboard to serve cover from the winter winds.
So much less is admired at Vutta, their inner oracle is filled with ordeal, and their love for the future has non-existent hope. But not Jabu, forever the protagonist as he always viewed himself.
A great believer of “you get what you put in, despite your circumstances”, he served as the greatest exemplar to his fellow his neighbours and young’uns. An extrovert exterior was his strength, greeting everyone when he was walking along the narrow streets of Vutta and people seemed be delight when they encounter presences.
He was in his own believe and his inner innate right that he was meant to living the life he deserved, as the reason he work harder and taking his brother in every way he can. His did enjoy the drink (whisky and lemon) his choice of drink and from then on a couple of champagne glasses.
As they say the only trouble with presenting a life of normality within an environment filled with ordeal is that people within your community start to despise your character. They hated his outlook on life, “that he will become an architect”, they hated him for his enthusiasm, and his ambition reminded them of their long dead dreams.
Alas, if only Jabu kept his ambitions to himself, troubles wouldn’t have followed him.



Chapter 2
The fight
The day started off with quite beautiful enough with a warm summer breeze were everything and everyone was in a mood of laziness, even Mr Mandla, Jabu’s next-door neighbour was in go-slow mechanical mood.
Jabu step out from his doorway to have a minor dialect with Mr Mandla, they were quite close enough friends, despite the age difference. Mandla was 10 year senior to Jabu, thus he served as his mentor, advisor and fatherly figure to this out of the norm young man.
He would say “Jabu, education is the milk that is turned into butter so you can marinade your bread and have a fulfilling meal, with education Jabu, A man will never go hungry.
He knew Jabu every well, he knew about his ambitions and his taciturn state of life. He warned him about being around Vutta for long. Thus warning him “Boy, Vutta is no place to have big dreams in, just take your daily meals here and sleep but when the crack of dawn emerge just go out and find a place that offers hope, not Vutta.”
Jabu listening with eager expression on his face, he knew this old man is speaking pure wisdom hence his been here for a long period of time. Jabu sensed some regret within the speeches that Mandla unselfconsciously edict. He knew the old man once had dreams, but Vutta held him back, so he was angry and bitter at his life thus he solicitously for Jabu to work hard and remove Vutta from his characteristic realm because if he doesn’t his kingdom will not be built.
In this specific morning they spoke about sports, how their local team will face off with their long-time rivals and which player was more suitable for the starting line-up.
Mandla in his greased stained overalls and a touch of oil stained hands, he spoke with so much vehement “Jabu! Why don’t you believe that this trophy is ours this season?” “Because I don’t, half of the squad has gone to represent the National team and-““Ok, I hear you but the remaining squad is also capable” “Ok, I believe” Jabu just wanted to end the sport conversation because Mandla is just more than a fan when it comes to supporting the local team.
He changed the subject to Melisa, the local beauty which every scoundrel in this Vutta place would love to be with. Mandla stunned by the change of subject just said “its best you find somebody who is more suitable for you Jabs”.
Confusion and curiosity lingers betwixt Jabu’s eyebrows as they were contorted by eagerness to know “why”, he asked “Why is that Mandla? Just tell me the truth about, spare me the ordeal”.

“Your Melisa is not so innocent, Jabs, she was in a love affair with old-Sam” said Mandla, with some sense of