The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind Read Online Free PDF Page A

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    Rather than taking a nap in the dirt, the two young girls looked for a clean, quiet place to sleep. After some time, they came across the house of an old man. After making their request, the old man said, “Of course you can stay here. Come on in.”
    That night when the girls were fast asleep, the old man snuck out the door and walked into the dark forest. There he found his two best friends, the Leopard and the Lion.
    “My friends, I have some tasty food for you. Just follow me.”
    “Why thanks, old man,” the Leopard said. “We’re coming straightaway.”
    The old man led his two friends through the forest and back to his house. The Leopard and the Lion were so excited for their meal they even started singing a happy tune. But as they were approaching, the two girls happened to wake up. They felt refreshed after their nap and decided to continue on their journey. Not seeing the old man, they left a kind note thanking him for the bed.
    Finally, the old man arrived at the house with the Leopard and the Lion.
    “Wait here and I’ll go and get them,” he said.
    The old man saw the bed was empty. Where did they go? he wondered. He looked for the girls but couldn’t find them. Finally, he discovered the note and knew they were gone. Outside, the Leopard and the Lion were growing impatient.
    “Hey, where’s our food?” said the Leopard. “Can’t you see we’re salivating out here?”
    The old man called out, “Hold on, they’re here someplace. Let me find them.”
    The old man knew if the Leopard and the Lion discovered that the girls had gone, they would surely eat him for supper instead. The old man kept a giant gourd in the corner of his house for drinking water. Seeing no other option, he jumped inside and hid.
    Finally, after waiting so long, the Lion said, “That’s it. We’re going in!”
    They broke open the door and found the house empty. No girls, no old man, no supper.
    “Hey, the old man must’ve tricked us,” said the Leopard. “He’s even left himself.”
    Just then, the Leopard spotted a bit of the old man’s shirt hanging out from the gourd. He motioned to the Lion, and together they tugged and tugged until the old man came flying out.
    “Please no, I can explain,” cried the old man. But the Leopard and the Lion had no patience for stories and quickly ate him.
    My father clapped his hands together, signaling the end of the story. Then he looked around to all of us children.
    “When planning misfortune for your friends,” he said, “be careful because it will come back to haunt you. You must always wish others well.”
    “Tell another, Papa!” we shouted.
    “Hmm, okay…what about the Snake and the Guinea Fowl?”
    “For sure!”
    Sometimes my father would forget the stories halfway and make them up as he went along. These tales would spiral on for an hour, with characters and motives ever changing. But through his own kind of magic, the stories would always end the same. My father was a born storyteller, largely because his own life had been like one fantastic tale.

CHAPTER TWO
    W HEN MY FATHER, T RYWELL, was a young man, HE was quite famous. These days he’s a farmer, just like his own father and the father before him. Being born Malawian automatically made you a farmer. I think it’s written in the constitution somewhere, like a law passed down from Moses. If you didn’t tend the soil, then you bought and sold in the market, and before my father gave himself to the fields, he led the crazy life of a traveling trader.
    This was when he lived in Dowa, a small town southeast of Masitala perched high in the brown hills. Back during the ’70s and ’80s, Dowa was a vibrant place where a young man could go and make some money. At that time, Malawi was under the control of Hastings Kamuzu Banda, a powerful dictator who ruled the country for more than thirty years.
    Every Malawian grew up knowing the story of Banda. When he was a young boy in Kasungu, living in the