Fifteen-year-old Tendo Katende was looking forward to the holidays and a break from schoolwork, but two weeks in he can't stand the routine of playing video games all day long any more. Will the rest of the holiday be like this? Then a visit from an uncle he has never met before changes everything. Uncle Moses comes with a gift of a holographic video game like none Tendo has ever played before. When strange happenings at the farm start causing havoc, mayhem and destruction, Tendo gets into serious trouble with his father, concerned about the game's power. Is the new holographic game linked to the mysterious events at the farm? Does that mean Tendo needs to stop playing his super-fun, highly addictive video game if he is to save the farm? What if there are more sinister forces with vindictive agendas at work on the farm? Suddenly, the holidays are no longer boring, Tendo teams up with his friends to solve the mystery before the whole farm is destroyed. Paul Kisakye is a Ugandan-born writer, editor and writing coach. He is the author of Tech Explorers League, a series of sci-fi novels for children; and a non-fiction book Prodigal Love. He is an African Writers Trust Publishing Fellow and was shortlisted for the Writivism Short Story Prize in 2013 for his piece, Emotional Roller Coaster.
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Extrait
Paul Kisakye TheRainmakers
he Raînmakers
About te autor
Pau Kîsakye îs a Ugandan-born wrîter, edîtor and wrîtîng coac. He îs te autor o teTech Explorers League, a serîes o scî-I noves or cîdren; and a non-Ictîon bookProdigal Love. He îs an Arîcan Wrîters Trust Pubîsîng Feow and was sortîsted or te Wrîtîvîsm Sort Story Prîze în 2013 or îs pîece, “Emotîona Roer Coaster”.
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ISBN 978-2-35926-102-8 (paperback) ISBN 978-2-35926-103-5 (ebook)
Cover desîgned by Anke Rosenocer
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hîs pubîcatîon was produced under te Cuture at Work Afrîca Programme împemented by te Arts & Cuture programme at Unîversîté Abdou Moumounî, Nîger în partnersîp wît Amaîon, wît te inancîa support of te European Unîon. Its contents are te soe responsîbîîty of te autor and do not necessarîy relect te vîews of te European Unîon.
To Crîspus, my dearest broter
1
sîtup în bed and stretc my arms. he mornîng sunîgt îs aInoter day o vîdeo games at Unce James’s ouse. aready streamîng troug my bedroom wîndow. “O no! Not agaîn!” ï say to myse at te tougt o Puîng back te duvet over my ead, ï try to get some more seep. But ï ave used up a my seep. ï never seep tîs ong durîng te scoo term. ï’m aways up by sîx and out o te ouse by sîx tîrty, just în tîme to catc te scoo bus to Mukungu Hîg Scoo. Wen te term ended, ï was ookîng orward to seepîng troug te mornîng. But now even seep as become borîng. Frustrated, ï get out o bed and trudge to te batroom or a sower. Ater te sower, ï go downstaîrs and Ind Mum as a-ready et or work. hanks to wakîng up ate, ï no onger see er în te mornîngs. Dad îs seated în îs avourîte armcaîr, readîng a book. “Good mornîng, Dad.” “Tendo! ï see you stî aven’t got tîred o wakîng up ate,” Dad says, ookîng up rom îs book, îs a-moon-saped wîre-rîmmed readîng gasses away down te brîdge o îs nose. “You’ become azy.” “No more wakîng up ate or me,” ï repy. “ï ee îke ï’ve done a te seepîng tere îs to do or te rest o te oîday.” “Good! So, wat are you doîng today?”
8 •PAUL KISAKYE
ï touc my cîn, tryîng to tînk up sometîng un to do today. “Same tîng ï dîd yesterday.” “O. Wat was tat?” “Same tîng ï dîd te day beore.” Dad nods îs ead. He îs orgetu and ï enjoy teasîng îm about ît. “Your unce Moses îs comîng to vîsît us today,” Dad says. “ï’m goîng to pîck îm up at te aîrport tîs aternoon.” “Unce Moses îs comîng to vîsît us?” ï ask, surprîsed. ï’ve eard a îtte about Dad’s oder broter rom storîes Dad as tod me, but ï’m yet to meet îm. “Yes. And e’ be stayîng or Crîstmas.” “hat’s so coo!” ï say. îvîng în a arge our-bedroom ouse wît ony my parents can get oney at tîmes. Sometîmes ï wîs ï wasn’t an ony cîd wît no oter reatîves îvîng cose by. Today, ï’ Inay get to meet Dad’s broter. ï ope e îs as coo as my dad. “ï’ need you to be on your best beavîour wîe e’s ere,” Dad says. “Sure.” ït’s not îke ï’m not aways on my best beavîour. Apart rom ackîng my way around parenta contros on my pone and tab so ï can watc some vîdeos a Iteen-year-od boy soudn’t watc—accordîng to my parents—ï am a pretty decent guy. ï saunter to te kîtcen and get out a bow rom a cup-board. ï pour some Coco Pops în ît, open te rîdge, get out cod mîk and drown te Coco Pops în ît. Wît a tabe-spoon, ï stuf te cerea down my troat. Ten mînutes ater, ï’m out o te ouse, on my way to Unce James’s ouse.
****
THE RAINMAKERS•9
Dr James Mugonyî, an award-wînnîng scîentîst and înventor, îs Dad’s cosest rîend. He îs te unce ï ave never met. ï’ve known îm or as ong as ï can remember. Hîs twîn son and daugter, Kato and Babîrye, are my cosest and odest rîends. Wen we were îtte, Mum or Dad woud erry me to Unce James’s ouse or pay dates wît te twîns sînce we were age-mates. ï am ony tree monts oder tan tem. Unce James’s ouse îs on a street îned wît îdentîca ouses buît by te same rea estate company. My rîends and ï ove angîng out at îs ouse because e as te best vîdeo game consoe ever. And e îs not as strîct as my dad about ow ong we pay vîdeo games. As soon as ï rîng te doorbe, te door Lîes open and Atas, Unce James’s Vîrtua Assîstant, speaks troug speak-ers îdden în te wa. “Tendo,” Atas says în a smoot, emae voîce, “you’re ate. Oversept agaîn?” “ït’s te oîdays, Atas,” ï say, enterîng te ouse. he door sowy coses beînd me. “ït’s te ony tîme ï get to seep tî ï can seep no more.” “Your rîends ave been waîtîng or you or orty-eîgt mînutes now în te basement.” ï ead straîgt to te basement, wîc as wat Unce James cas îs man cave, an entertaînment centre tat as îg-tec gadgets tat are straîgt out o a scîence Ictîon movîe. “Hey guys!” ï say.