26 Jan

This is the first chapter of a book I made. Please I expect you to help me critic it.


Zambezi is the story of an American girl who has her own unique adventure around the Zambezi River. She does not this all alone, she has helpers…


It was a clear blue sky, a sky beautiful enough to fly in. As Sandy and her parents—Greg and Yolanda Simpson, boarded the Boeing 747 heading for the summer vacation exploring the Zambezi, Sandy was full of excitement and anticipation.

Sandy had never been to Africa. She had heard so much about the land where men jumped from tree to tree like monkeys and wore loin cloths like Tarzan. Did all Africans actually live in tree houses? She had enjoyed the Tarzan series on television and loved the wild life programmes on the discovery channels, but that definitely would pale into insignificance when confronted with the real thing, she assumed.

Sandy took the seat across from her parents and strapped herself in. this was always her turn off when it came to traveling with her parents. They were always wont to riding the economy class when they sure could afford the executive class upstairs. They were always so security conscious fearing kidnapping and hijacking. As hijacking crossed her mind she said a silent prayer for a safe flight and closed her eyes as the plane took off bound for Africa.

Sandy was the only child of her parents and has been that for twelve years now. She had hoped against hope to have a brother and as the years went by the hope waned and she asked for a sister, just for company. But what she got in return was an endless flood of nannies to take care of her. She was quite big for her age and was almost always mistaken for a sixteen year old. She had sandy coloured cropped hair and a sunny disposition.

Her family was a close-knit one, spending numerous vacations together. Sometimes her mum and dad took off on their own for some dangerous expeditions. Like when they had taken a swim in the Devils pool at Livingstone Island of the Victoria Falls. The pictures of her mother hanging over the cascading waters and looking down at the gorge below had filled her with dread. Thankfully that was in the dry season when the strength of the cascades over the lip of the falls was very minimal. But this was the wet season and she hoped to see the falls in all its glory.

Her parents were very busy people and it was quite a wonder that they could afford the time for these travels. But she was grateful all the same. Her father was somebody in the engineering field. He called her his little princess and though she enjoyed the attention she would have preferred a sibling.

Her mother worshiped the ground her father trod. Yolanda Simpson was born Yolanda Graham. She came from a small village in Scotland. Greg had discovered her in one of his work related travels. She had been mesmerized by his knowledge and sophistication. His showing any attention to her had come as a shock and she had been overwhelmed when he asked her to marry him. They had been living happily since then. She had been quite disappointed when she could not have more than one kid but Greg had been very supportive.

This was the family’s first group trip to Africa, though Greg and Yolanda had been there thrice, this was Sandy’s first. She had been to other places of interest. Two years ago she had visited the Ganges River in India. She had wondered what the fuss was all about, the water was polluted anyway. But the crowd of devotees that actually drank that water was astonishing. It made a big impression on her ten year old mind. When she was much younger a trip to Disneyland always impressed her. She would give anything to go on a ride on the ghost trail—scary though it was so much fun

‘Care for a drink?’ Sandy’s eyes flew open to find a lovely air hostess with a trolley of drinks and juices. She knew she was not allowed to take alcohol and so settled for a can of Alcopop. The air hostess smiled at her and wheeled her trolley to the next row on the aisle. Sandy sat up on her seat and released the strap. She took a sip of her drink and winced from the biting effect. She downed the drink in no time flat reveling in the giddy effect it had on her. She always stole a drink or two back home when no one was watching, but it had been a while since she had the opportunity. She really had to stop herself from breaking into giggles as she had an attack of the hiccoughs. An elderly African American seated next to her gave her a look of mock disdain.

‘We are off to visit your ancestors,’ Sandy said to her.

‘Really?’ the woman answered amused. ‘You mean the gorillas and ape-men?’

‘Is that story really true?’ Sandy asked wide eyed.

‘That depends on you,’ said the woman as she turned to the magazine she was reading.

‘Me? How’s that?’ Sandy was clearly getting confused.

‘It is all in your head my child’. The woman answered frankly. ‘People are what you want them to be. If you want my ancestors to be apes, they may well be apes’ and as she noticed Sandy’s eyes were losing focus added ‘I think you should lay back and sleep you have quite a trip ahead of you.’

Sandy wondered why she was so tired and sleepy. Was it the Alcopop? No, she had had drinks stronger than this. Maybe it was this splendidly soothing woman seated next to her. Whichever it was did not matter as she allowed the drowsiness to overtake her.


One Response to “Zambezi”


  1. Zambezi « cbnwali - January 26, 2013

    […] Zambezi. […]

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