There they lay, blood seeping into the hot tarmac, flies already gathering around their heads, in anticipation of the unexpected feast. My eyes travelled down the white blood splattered neck of the larger one, across his back and down his legs. Both were bent at the knees with a shaft of shinbone sticking out at an awkward angle. Blood was beginning to congeal around the raw, gaping hole. My eyes shifted to the smaller one, also lying in a pool of blood. His mouth was filled with dirt and grass from the recent violent accident. Lips which were pulled back revealed large worn-down teeth. Worst of all, the shrunken body of a man well past his prime, lay motionless among the twisted bits of metal he had been transporting in his little cart to the scrap dealer.
He must have been in his late eighties, as his hair and wispy beard had long succumbed to the ravages of age. His face too was lined and leathery from the many hours of working in the blazing African sun. One of his gnarled hands was still entwined in the reins. It seemed that even in death he was still attached to his faithful animals.
I often saw this little man, proudly seated on the wooden slats of his cart, cracking his whip over the ears of his trusty steads. One large white horse and a smaller roan coloured mule. He could have been a king, judging by the way he sat with straight back and regal countenance.
Many a time I had seen him steer his animals into the busy road, without looking left or right. It was as if he expected everyone to stop dead in their tracks, and allow him to trot briskly in front of them. He seemed quite oblivious to the fact that life was different now and horses and carts were from some bygone era. Perhaps his vast age precluded him from understanding the consequences of his actions, or perhaps his depth perception wasn't functioning properly. Whatever the case, he now lay together with his beloved horse and mule in the wreckage of his life's work.
So, so very sad. It would wrench at my heartstrings every time I passed that particular section of road. The picture of that proud little old man with his cart and "horses" is firmly etched into my mind for all eternity.
