Water

• Honey Abbott, Grade 7
• Short Story
• 2007

Zakilya wakes to see a sliver of light through the thatched roof. Thump. Thump. Thump. Her head pound’s. The fifth year of drought. If only … What? More food? Less work? No. More water. The harsh landscape is dead and the hot, dry winds come up from the north. No children play on the road for fear of being burnt to the skin.
Zakilya closes her eyes and sees a waterfall surrounded by trees full of fruit; she can smell the mangoes. But it is a dream. Her mother wakes her. She must find water. Zakilya hurriedly dresses in what little she can find and grabs the pot from the table. As she walks out the hut door she sees small faces gaunt with hunger and thirst. Hears the faces crying.
The hot dry road shimmers with the morning heat. Drought brings no water, less food and more work. The well has dried up. No more water meant that Zakilya and the village women would have to go to the water hole, 10 miles away. She hurries at the thought of those tiny droplets of water on her tongue.
The water pot becomes heavier as the journey gets longer. Every step is another step towards water. As the boiling point of the day reaches its peak, droplets of sweat drop down Zakliya’s face. She licks them up greedily. UGH! They taste like salt which makes her more thirsty. She sees the water hole. She run’s; her cracked feet barely touching the hot dry earth as she sprints to the water hole.
NO! The water hole is dry. No water. All this way for nothing. Zakilya turns to go when remembering her old grandmother’s words about finding water and runs back. Digging with her hands at the baked earth determined to find water, she smell’s damp earth and feels the small clumps of mud. WATER! She is so relieved that her job is done. The long walk home isn’t as far because faces will smile when she comes through that door. Zakilya knows the water will not last long but for now she is happy.