leKhaxe the Limper, A sketch from urban South Africa Options

[Thoth]

The pretty young black girl at the hardware store smiled at me as I approached the till. Having only recently been weaned from crutches I still struggle to walk unaided. Amongst the items purchased was a new axe handle which I used as a temporary walking stick.

“Dumela leKhaxe” she greeted me, eyes twinkling with mirth, as she processed my order. (The x pronounced with a tongue click that is difficult for most Europeans to pronounce)

I was puzzled and asked her to explain. The reply inspired this piece.


leKhaxe the Limper
(Typ. European pron ; le-cut chee; )
When leKhaxe the limper arrives,
pick-handle walking stick
thunking dust from the un-paved street,
everyone recognises his shuffling gait and the hunched gorilla profile.

Suddenly the getto is unusually quiet
but not deserted.
Street urchins vanish,
rags drawn over shanty windows. Rickety doors dragged shut.
A mother tries to hush her niggling baby and
scrawny dogs slink away without barking.
They know!

Even here in Alexandra township, (The gangster capital of Jo’burg)
his battered stick has never been required -
for self-defence; (reputation has attended to that)
Ominous dappled stains on once white wood
tell a story none wish to hear.
Knocking on your door is not the only purpose
for which this pick-handle has been used.
Well used.

leKhaxe the bull, is here.
Too late to run, someone gets hurt today.
He knows every name in the street –
who lives where,
who no-longer lives anywhere
and he knows where to find you!

Some say he limps because his father beat him as a child
others say his knee was broken
by leKhaxe’s stick!
Long ago.

Some say
he smiles all the time
because he likes his work;
others allege it is due to a knife wound
but no-one
in any shebeen on the highveld
ever claimed the glory.

leKhaxe the bat,
whose eyes are flitting shadows
which see behind him in the night
and through the closed tin door of your shack.
He sees where you hide
and knows also
where you put the money
saved for your sick father’s funeral – under the mud floor.

After he has gone
the busy streets return to normal,
doors re-open and
someone is sent to call for the ambulance.
No-one will mention anything to the police.

In a small tin hut, a young wife weeps
as her aging mother-in-law tries to comfort six hungry children.

The husband who lost his job
will not work or walk for a very long time.

Tomorrow,
leKhaxe the debt collector
will be working for the loan-shark again -
with a bit of luck,
somewhere else.

--------------------------------------------------
(PS. there is also a rhyming version of this posted on herme's)

[Maureen]

Rather a chilling story with many twists and turns. Initially one feels sorry for leKhaxe with his broken leg, struggling to get around until one realises the menace and malice that emanates from him. Seems he got his come uppance though

A story well told IMO

Cheers

Maureen

[Psyche]

Dear Wally,

I'll come back here. I've just made 3 commentaries and my brain is SO dim now

Just wanted to tell you that IMO this is a great piece that merits several readings. Most interesting. The context is unusual, thanks for the intro.

Will try to get back asap. Still have personal problems, added to which my area of Buenos Aires had serious innundations that created havoc. Cars swept away or piled up like dominos. Big damages to my building, for which I have to pay my share until government help arrives (doubtful..).

Power outage for 3 days, only the phone worked. When electricity returned at under 200w, it wasn't enough for the elevators or the machine for pumping water up to the tanks. I live one flight up, so fetching buckets of water from the garage, at street level, wasn't TOO bad. Got some help

You mention that you've cast crutches aside. That's wonderful news, although I imagine that you still have to cope with other effects of your car accident. My very best wishes to you, Wally, may you be blessed in many ways.

Hugz,
Syl*** (still remember the 'z'...LOL..)

[Cleo_Serapis]

Hi Wally,

This is such an intense poem! I really enjoyed how you changed the image of the character for the reader.

The intro: an unassuming (we think and then learn otherwise) man with a handicap and that walking stick. Then we get to it-the urban legend arrives, and even the gangsters go and hide!

He knows all and enjoys putting the fear in others, among other things! I hope he stays far away from my door too!

No nits this time - perhaps on the next read!
Enjoyed the read.
~Cleo

[Arnfinn]

G'day Wally

Well told--misery begets misery--begets tragedy= leKhaxe the Limper.

An education,mate.

My best friend is an expat from J'burg.

Regards,

John