Before they had become mujibhas, they had herded cattle until the security forces had confiscated all the livestock from the village because it had been reported that the villagers always fed the boys from the bush when they passed by. Before that, they had attended the local school until the boys from the bush had destroyed it, saying that a colonial education did nothing but colonise the mind and prepare people for a life of subservience and servitude. Refusing to be rendered useless, the two industrious and enterprising boys had put together the knowledge they had acquired from the lessons taught by the bush and the lessons taught at the school, and used them to become mujibhas and act as spies for the village.

They were both fifteen years old and had both been hoping, before the ceasefire had been announced, that in a few years they could join the boys in the bush and fight for their country. Therefore, the declaration of a ceasefire had taken away not only their reason for being, but their hopes and dreams for the future as well.

Naturally, when the mujibhas met, a few minutes later, to debrief each other on their separate reconnaissance missions, what they talked about was the seemingly unsustainable situation the ceasefire had created for them. Having lived through a war, they had long reconciled themselves to the fact that the future for them could very well hold death. At least death was something compared to the empty nothingness that now stretched before them and called itself their future. They were certain that the future, if it could not hold something, should hold the promise of something. With the ceasefire and the peace that accompanied it, their future could not even hold the promise of death.

And so they were very disappointed with the state of affairs the ceasefire had created. With no other option presenting itself, they decided that they would have to go to the City of Kings and lose themselves in it the way everyone who lived there did. In sad consolation, together they climbed the modest hill that was the highest object in their environment so that they would have the best vantage point.

As they looked at the bleak horizon of a morning that was beginning to gather grey clouds, they saw a beige bakkie drive into view on a long and winding dusty dirt road. As it approached, their bush-smart eyes picked up that the driver was a white man. As the car neared and they saw the brown Stetson, they recognised the white man to be Emil Coetzee. They knew that Emil Coetzee was a very powerful man because his picture was often printed in The Chronicle newspaper. He seemed to be something of a hero for the white people.

From their position on the modest hill, the two mujibhas watched as Emil Coetzee parked his beige bakkie, climbed out and walked into the bush, towards the gathering grey clouds. They watched him walk on and on until he completely disappeared into the lush and green-gold elephant grass that heralded the arrival of the rainy season. It occurred to the two mujibhas, as they watched the elephant grass dance as it contained him, that Emil Coetzee was a man who knew exactly what to do with uncertain futures – he knew how to make them welcome him.