Rain stiches the tin roof like restless fingers. Masimba’s bed’s empty except for an old photo frame. Tatenda smiles laugh lines, wild hair, life radiating. The image blips like a heartbeat.
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TATENDA (V.O., whisper-gifted)
"You never run from the road, Masi. You face it."
He slams the notebook open. Ink bleeds onto the page. Words scorch:
Expose. Demand. Remember.
A resolve carves into his jaw. He’s not done fighting.
Dew claps the shrine’s wilted flowers. Masimba kneels, red paint splashing his hands like fresh wounds. He letters bold strokes on a weathered signboard:
“NO JUSTICE. NO PEACE”
Villagers drift closer, uneasy. A mop-haired boy (12) stops his bike, frowning.
BOY
"Was she your sister?"
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MASIMBA (steady, gentle but charged)
"She was all our sister."
The boy nods like he understands. Others linger. The message bleeds into their silence.
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Masimba sits opposite Nyasha, her mic sharp as a blade.
NYASHA
"You’re challenging the silence. Aren’t you scared?"
Masimba leans in. Microphone swallows his growl.
MASIMBA
"If we don’t speak, who will? If the Deadly Road eats another soul… whose name will be whispered next?"
Phones blaze. The station’s tiny speakers crack with voices:
"My brother died there too."
"They said it was his fault."
"We need lights. We need justice."
Nyasha cuts the air with her hand.
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NYASHA
"Tonight, listeners, the Deadly Road demands answers."
Sun-baked afternoon. Music blares from a passing truck. Tatenda darts through dust clouds, barefoot, squealing. She spins, eyes wild.
TATENDA
"Promise me something. Don’t let the truth rot with me."
Masimba’s younger self grins, oblivious.
MASIMBA (then)
"I promise."
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Cut to black. The promise hangs.
The hall smells like old books and tension. Masimba strides in. Elders squint.
MASIMBA (clear, defiant)
"Pave the road, not just with tar but with accountability. Put a crossing where she died. Put lights where we’ve gone blind."
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COLD COUNCILOR
"You think your pain changes policy, boy?"
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Masimba doesn’t flinch.
MASIMBA
"No. But _truth_ does."
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The room cracks. Some nod; others harden.
- Graffiti sprawls across the highway wall: “REMEMBER TATENDA”.
- Dusk: villagers stencil “DEADLY ROAD” stencils on pavement stones.
- Night: candlelight vigil. Shadows flicker. A toddler holds a placard: “Safe Roads Now”.
- Sunrise: red paint drips off the sign. The message bleeds.
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NARRATION (V.O.):
"Out of ashes, we build. Not perfect roads , but ones paved with remembrance, resistance… and love."
To be continued
ns216.73.216.33da2
and then Add to home screen.