Orhenjo's Story

The man who wouldn't give up

This is the final segment in this short four-part series. Let me know if you enjoyed this format and would like to see more of this type of mini series. I really do enjoy receiving your feedback.

The engineers finally gave up one by one until the Russian truck lay forlornly in the sand.

A massive 6x6 wheel drive, this beast of a machine was indestructible. We bought it for a mere $10,000.00 dollars, mainly for the load she carried on her flat bed. 2 x 200kva generators. Only thing was, we couldn’t get any of the genies to work. We used the truck a few times to drag things up the beach when extra power was needed but now she lay unused on the beach. Sand Dunes building up all around her as she sank lower and lower into the sand.

I loved that truck, the sheer aggressive lines, the beast of an engine, her indestructible spirit. It was sad they didn’t use it much anymore.

Late one afternoon he walked into the exploration camp. Shoulders back and head held high. He asked for the Mulungo.

“I’ve heard about your truck.” he said. “

I’ve walked through the bush for the past week to get here and I’ve come to fix it.”

The manager sized him up before finally saying;

”Very well.”

“You can start tomorrow and we’ll see how things go.”

“Rogers will show you where you can sleep and give you something to eat.”

Orjenho didn’t wait till morning to start working. After a plate of food he set off to work immediately.

By nightfall he still refused to give up and carried on working.

He worked all through that night.

The crew, moved the generator and lights closer so he didn’t have to work by candlelight.

He paused for meals and to stretch his legs before climbing back up into the bowels of the truck. The following day I climbed up onto the truck to see what was going on.

“Orjenho,” I said, “why not take a break?” “No Mulungo,” he said his face lighting up, “I’m happiest when I work on these machines.”

Shortly thereafter he got a pulse, one of the lights went on and by the following day he had the generator up and running - having worked flat out for two days and two nights. Jim the camp manager hired him full time right then and there.

Whenever I had a free moment, I’d climb up onto the truck where Orjenho was tinkering away. I’d watch him working. We’d chat laugh about the common things that bind us together and then I’d be gone, off on my next assignment.

On my following trip to the bush camp I was looking forward to meeting up with Orjenho again. I didn’t see him for the first few days and finally I asked where he was.

Oh, no they said he died of AIDs about 2 weeks ago…