Written piece
FOURTEEN HOURS
Shasha Ilunga
Zambia
About this piece
Fourteen Hours is a story about memory, loss, and the bond between siblings, shown through a simple daily exchange—“Fourteen hours”—that becomes a lasting thread of connection. Even after Najie’s death, the phrase endures, preserving their bond beyond grief.
FOURTEEN HOURS
I remember how she looked at me.
Wide-eyed and curious, she'd tilt her head and ask “Faraji, Ninshitanshi?”
Her voice was small.
You might have mistaken it for the wind whispering your name.
A finger rested between her lips, sticky with honey meant for our father.
I glanced outside.
The sun hung high.
“Two p.m.”
Her head tilted further.
I sighed.
“Fourteen hours.”
I muttered.
She beamed.
“Fourteen hours.”
She echoed.
Then, she grinned.
“You'll come watch today?”
“No.”
“You always say that.”
She bolted past the chitenge to play ukubuta.
Everyday at two o'clock, she'd ask.
Everyday at two o'clock, she left.
Everyday at two o'clock, I'd answer.
—
“Najie,”
“Mukwai?”
“Finshi ulechita?”
She beamed and thrust the page toward Father.
"It's me, you, ba mami, na Faraji."
She pointed
Father smiled.
"Awe," he breathed. "Beautiful."
My grip tightened around my pencil.
"Katharina!" he called. "Isa umone ifya drawa Najie. Ba Da Vinci abesu."
Mother smiled.
"Najie wesu aliba talented."
Praise that never reached me.
Snap.
Silence.
The pencil had split in my hand.
Father's smile vanished.
Then,
Pain.
A hand struck my face and sent me crashing to the floor.
“How many times have I told you not to ruin things?”
I looked toward Najie.
Her little hands crushed the drawing.
A voice called from the road.
"Najie! Tiye mukubuta!"
Her eyes drifted toward the doorway.
Toward sunlight.
Then they returned to me.
Father's boot rose.
Najie moved.
One moment she stood beside Mother.
The next, she threw herself over me.
A sickening impact.
A crack.
A scream.
Silence.
—
The sun hangs high in the sky.
Just as it did that afternoon.
Sticky fingers.
Her head tilted.
"What's the time, Faraji?"
I look toward the sun.
And answer the way I always did.
"Fourteen hours.”