Is This Thing Real

Is this thing real?

By Johny Thompson

Published by smashwords

Copyright 2014 Johny Thompson

By J. M. Thompson

Smashword edition

Dedicate this book series to my late brother and sister.

Smashwords edition license notes

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Chapter one

The rays of the sun appeared over the distant horizon ushering in a brand new day. The day progressed into early morning. Clouds were hovering in the sky as the day progressed, forming abstract shapes imaginable. The light breeze blowing over the land carried a varied aroma of moisture from the nearby Fannie Botha dam. Rain had been falling at a steady pace during the past few days. The dam was slowly filling up with rainwater. The farmers in the area could have a bumper season. However, the humid atmosphere also allowed mosquitoes to thrive.

Almost every household had mosquito nets fitted to keep the parasites out of the homes. The farm laborers did not enjoy the luxury of having mosquito nets. Most of the farm workers lived in mud houses with one tiny window. The windows did not have windowpanes. The miniature doors fitted could not keep the buzzing mosquitoes away. As a result, many black laborers suffered from malaria fever. Some of them died and some of them survived. The white farm owners could care less. There were too many black people around seeking work in the farms.

Farmers employed seasonal workers during the harvesting time. Most of the seasonal workers were women and young women. The young women were old enough to work in the farming industry. These workers lived in structures that seemed to be army barracks. There were no separating walls or curtains to afford people privacy. Men and women shared the same building. Women became vulnerable, as the men did not fail to express their lust. However, men with tiny ding-dongs suffered humiliation by both men and women.

The farmers did not think that the workers required privacy as they thought of them as something less than human. Those that became lovers did it with everyone else being aware of what they were doing. Shame and privacy became foreign to the workers. Respect for each other did not exist within the walls of the barracks.

Some of the children who grew up under such conditions automatically became laborers. Farm workers did not need education thus, none thought of building schools where the children could learn to read and write. Everyone thought education was unnecessary for black people. Education could not benefit them in any way. They were machinery, which the farmers used in any manner of their choice. Some of the lucky women became domestic servants.

Most of the farmers did not value their laborers. One of the farmers felt a tiny degree of compassion towards his laborers and he erected a make shift school premises. His wife taught the children how to read and write. In time, his school grew to accommodate some of the children from nearby farms. His school provided the children an opportunity to learn how to write their names and read. Those that showed an ability to read and write became good learners. The farmers rewarded them by giving them lighter duties.

One such child was Petros. No one really knew how he ended up on that farm. Nothemba claimed that he was her child and Moses seemed to be happy with him. He knew though that she was barren yet he was happy to claim Petros as his son. They never bothered to trace his biological parents. Maybe they were afraid of loosing him because they both did not have any children. Petros grew up attending school in the morning and working the land for the rest of the day. He had no friends with whom he could play. Even if he had playmates, there was hardly anytime for playing. His playing days swept by without him noticing his loss.

His ability to tend the soil attracted the attention of his father. He had a natural connection with the soil. His father was growing old and he sometimes could not work for long hours. Farm laborers do not retire, they toil until they fall dead. His mother was working for the farm owner doing house chores. The family liked her for her humble nature, but Mr. Kobus became fond of her. Sometimes he would fondle her when no one else is paying attention. They used whatever chance they had to fornicate. Kobus knew that she was barren and he did not use condoms. She did that to secure her job. She enjoyed his red meat plunging into her purple lips. He did that for fun, he enjoyed her more that he did his wife. His tool did not know that she was not white.

One morning, the clouds began to be heavy with moisture denying the rays of the sun to reach the plantations. The farm workers could at least feel the relief. The clouds became darker and heavier with moisture. Petros could tell that rain was about to fall. He could smell the humidity in the air. The women gathered their belongings and trotted to their mud dwellings. The men stayed to brave the oncoming rain. Then without any further warning, the floodgates in the sky opened and the rain pelted everyone. Anyone that was outside, irrespective of his or her social standing felt the sting of the heavy raindrops. Nature operates on a higher level where everyone is equal.

Able men ran for cover while the weaker ones simply walked to a place of safety. By the time they reached their huts, they were soaking wet. Even as a child, Petros witnessed the hardships of being a modern slave. He saw older men and women suffer the humiliation of having darker skins. Some of the older people resigned themselves to their fate but his father had an undying spirit. He might have been old and fragile but his soul was that of a patriotic soldier. He instilled a great degree of pride in his son as he grew up to be a young man.

The quality of his pride was not a pride that looks down upon other people, but it amounted to self-confidence. He knew even at that age that no one would govern his life. He had to cultivate a culture of independence within himself. He knew that he had to build a fortress into which no external forces could enter. He was the last person to leave the field. He sprinted to his home to check upon his parents. Already a pot of boiling water was on the fire. They had no stove upon which to cook. They had to make the centre of the mud floor their cooking area. The hut had no furniture either but a few low benches.

His mother made him a cup of tea to warm his body. He drank the tea while his mind was thinking about his future. He did not envisage a future outside the farm. He thought he had no connection with the outside world. His world was within the boundaries of the farm. Thus, he knew that he had to learn everything about farming because his mind, body and soul belonged with the soil. He bade his parents good night and he went to his sleeping quarters.

He woke up early as usual and prepared himself for school. He shared an early breakfast with his father then he trotted off to school. He began to hum a song of prayer, beseeching whoever held the reigns of life out there never to forsake him. He knew more about his ancestors than he knew about God. Yet he felt that God aught to be the supreme power.

He walked along the beaten path to the assembly point. The children stood to attention and the principal of the school uttered a short prayer. All the scholars then marched to their respective classrooms. When the school was over, Petros went home. At the end of the year, he passed his matriculation examination test. That was then the end of his schooling days. Petros became a man without having been a child after his father circumcised him.

Mr. Kobus decided to make him in charge of all the workers. However, he would have to report to Johann. Kobus was Johann’s father. Johann did nothing but visit his friends and go to strip clubs. He loved watching women expose themselves for a price. His tool seldom reacted even as some of the women tried to entertain him. A steady working relationship began to germinate between Johann and Petros. The two young men could converse freely without the stigma of the statuses becoming a hindrance. Finally, they had a solid reason to become friends and share personal ideas. They never spoke about anything else but farming. The knowledge that Petros acquired over the years improved dramatically as Johann gave him books to read and learn.

The harvesting season was approaching and the regular temporary workers reported for duty. Petros was responsible for all labor related matters. He was in his makeshift office and he looked outside expecting to see the temporary workers waiting for him. Gathered there were a number of temporary workers. They were all waiting for the farm owner to address them. Instead, Petros appeared and he sat by the makeshift desk. He called out to them to form a single file. He opened his register and started jotting down their names.

One of them spoke loud ‘where is Mr. Kobus’.

Petros looked at the man and he did not recognize him.

‘What is your name sir’?

‘Why should I tell you my name’?

‘I need your name and your identification book; otherwise you cannot claim to be working on this farm’.

‘I want to see Mr. Kobus’.

‘It is not necessary to call Mr. Kobus for you. You can ask me any question you want to ask’.

‘How much do you pay per day’?

‘We pay eighty rand per day but you must work hard for it. If you sit around you will not have a job anymore. Right now you must wait your turn’.

The