One Face in a Million Book 1: Mu Shangaaniana. William Bond

and her growing anxiety, she trudged on, hopeful that she could hail a taxi when she reached the lit thoroughfare.

      She sensed that someone was following her, but she was afraid to know for sure. Was it the sound of footsteps that she heard? Or was she hearing the pounding of her own heart?

      And was it pounding because of exertion—or was it because of fear? The shadows along the street seemed more ominous, and she wondered if those men from the boxcar were behind her or perhaps lurking nearby in the shadows? That was a chilling thought. The weight of her luggage had become burdensome, and she wanted to set it down. She felt that she dared not take a rest though, so she hastened ahead toward a series of lights that punctuated the darkness at regular intervals. Despite her aching arm, she continued on with a singleness of purpose.

      At last, she reached the sidewalk that edged the lit boulevard. She hastened to a lamppost and set down her luggage to catch her breath. A few cars passed by in one direction, and some passed by going the other. She hoped to get the attention of a taxi driver—if one ever came by. She saw no other pedestrians on the sidewalk that edged the boulevard, but she still felt uneasy about the dark street that she had taken from the depot. Some men might be just a few paces behind her, so she again took up her luggage and headed for the next lamppost along the boulevard. In the distance, she could see the city lights. The hills that rise up from the harbor area were covered with millions of lights, but she was not in a position to admire the view.

      She knew where some hotels were located, but it was still a long walk to the nearest one.

      Could she walk all the way to a hotel, or would a taxi come along? Didn’t God see that she needed a taxi? She had passed four lights and had come to a fifth one when she was compelled to take another rest. As she looked back along the route she had been taking, she saw two men in the distance, and they were heading her way!

      Then, as if in answer to prayer, she saw a taxi and raised her hand to get the driver’s attention. She felt great relief that he had seen her and was going to be stopping just a few feet away.

      In Portuguese, the driver asked through his window where she would like to go, and she named the Club Hotel, for it was a reasonably priced place where her mother and she had stayed on various occasions.

      He explained that the Club Hotel had been closed because of a recent fire. Christine knew that she could not afford the lovely Hotel Vasco Da Gama or the Imperial Hotel, so she asked about the Sintra Hotel. The driver nodded that he could take her there, so he got out of the taxi, and as he placed her luggage in the trunk, she got into the back seat of the taxi.

      Just before they drove off, she noticed that the two men had almost reached the place where she had just been standing. What might have happened if the taxi hadn’t come along? Might they have walked on by minding their own business—or might they have offered to carry her luggage? Or maybe they would have tried to abduct her and do something dreadful to her.

      She would never know, of course. It seemed clear to her that a taxi had come along just when she needed it, as if the Lord was continuing to watch over her and provide for her needs.

      Before long, they arrived at the Sintra Hotel. Christine entered the lobby and inquired at the reception desk if they had an available room, preferably a single. After she learned that a single was available, she returned to the taxi and let him know that she would be taking a room in the hotel. He got her luggage and carried it to the entrance of the hotel where Christine paid her fare and thanked him for his help. As he returned to his taxi, a bellboy appeared at the door to carry her luggage into the lobby, and after she had been given a key for her room, the bellboy took up her luggage and led her to the elevator and then to the room where she was going to be spending the night.

      After tipping him, she closed the door and immediately used the facilities that she had been wanting to use for hours! Within a few moments, she had changed into her nightgown, gotten into bed, and turned out the lamp beside her bed. She sighed as she thought about how amazing her day had been. There had been some difficulties in her day, but it seemed clear that the Lord had been with her throughout her trip. She had missed her connections, yet she had been able to help look after Antonio and she had made it safely to the hotel—despite her worries. She had given a few coins to a beggar and helped look after a young boy, but the boy’s father had treated her to a meal and given her enough money to pay for a night in the Sintra Hotel. She had given a little, but she had received much. As she drifted off to sleep, she recalled that Mother had said, “You can’t outgive the Lord,” and on this day, that had seemed to be true.

      After Christine arose in the morning, she had breakfast in the hotel’s dining room, and then, she returned to pack everything so that she would be ready for the afternoon train to Swaziland. With a few hours to spare, she decided to go for a walk and visit some of her favorite places in LM. Because of the nearness to the waterfront, she decided that she would first walk down to the harbor area. There, she saw several freighters and two large passenger ships, the well-known Rhodesia Castle and the sleek South African Sun.

      It was always interesting to note the home port of the various ships. On this occasion, she saw that some were from African cities like Cape Town, Durban, and Mombasa, but on other occasions, they had been from distant places like Bombay, Liverpool, New Orleans, and Singapore. Seeing ships from faraway places rekindled old feelings of wanderlust, and once again, she found herself hoping that, someday, she would be able to travel to exotic destinations.

      The sky was cloudless, and the temperature was mild because of a pleasant breeze from the ocean. She liked the smell of the sea, and she had always enjoyed watching the seagulls in the harbor area. She had never tired of coming to the harbor area or to the beach. She was enchanted by such things, and she hoped that she would eventually be able to live near the sea.

      As fascinating as the waterfront was, she knew that she needed to continue on her way. She did not have time, on this occasion, to go to the beach or visit the zoo, but she planned to do a little window-shopping and perhaps stroll through a park and a bazaar that she never tired of visiting.

      LM is a cosmopolitan city that Christine found interesting because it offers so much variety and the population is so diverse. Mozambique had been a Portuguese colony, so there are people whose ancestors had come from Portugal or other parts of Europe. There are also many immigrants or those whose ancestors had come from India and from various other Asian countries. The majority of city’s population, however, are indigenous black folks or those who are racially mixed. One could see a variety of clothing styles because people tended to dress according to their ethnic background. There were many ethnic restaurants, as well, and the shops and bazaars offered a wide assortment of produce and merchandise. In addition to the human dimension, she also found the physical aspects of the city to be appealing. The harbor was interesting, the nearby beaches were beautiful, and the hills, the steep streets, and the lovely palm-lined boulevards—all combined to make LM a place that Christine truly loved.

      As Christine walked toward the park, she could see that the volume of traffic had increased, and she had noticed that the sidewalks had become more congested. Many restaurants and shops were now open for business, and the sidewalk markets had also begun to bustle with activity. Christine had always enjoyed browsing in the markets and bazaars because they were filled with a variety of things that were often exotic, colorful, or aromatic. She also liked to browse in the shops that sold expensive things like jewelry, beautiful clothing, fine furnishings, and lovely Oriental carpets. She had no plans to buy anything on this outing, but she planned to walk through her favorite bazaar on her way back to the hotel.

      She continued on until she came to a lovely park that could have been called a botanical garden because it had so many kinds of trees and shrubs. It also had several manicured flower gardens that were filled with some of the most beautiful and exotic flowers that she had ever seen. Dark-skinned gardeners were already at work weeding, pruning, clipping, and mowing in order to make the grounds look impeccable.

      She followed one of the shaded walks until she came to the lagoon where ducks and swans could be seen. She then continued along a curved walkway until she came to the ornate fountain that was the park’s chief attraction. An extravagant amount of water soared up into the air and