Season 07 Episode 17: What Lies In the Long Grass (Pt.1 of 2)

grappling with the complications of the past. The affluent and leafy suburb of Mount Pleasant where Cynthia lived, was an exclusive district of North Harari, Zimbabwe's capital, and home to some of the city's wealthiest residents, including a number of dignitaries and government officials. That the former Ethiopian dictator Harley Mariam men Gistu lived nearby was as good a reason as any to suspect, as Cynthia did, that what had

just rattled her window panes was a bomb. Unable to see anything from her desk, Cynthia made her way out to the garden. There she was joined by her friend and granddaughter, who'd also heard the bang. As they scanned the dusk sky together for evidence. Of an explosion. They were surprised to see no thick plumes of smoke or flashing emergency lights, and instead of sirens, they heard only the gentle trickling of water through the filter system of

Cynthia's swimming pool. If anything, it was all a little too quiet. Even the neighborhood dogs seemed unnaturally stilled. Ever, eager to get to the bottom of things, the curious Cynthia beckoned the others to join her in her car. Moments later, the three of them sped off in search of the source of the explosion. As they trolled the neighborhood for any sign of damage. Back in Cynthia's home, her telephone began to ring. You're listening to Unexplained and

I'm Richard McLean Smith. Cynthia Hind was born in South Africa in the nineteen twenties. At some point she moved to northern England, where she lived for a number of years with her husband and two children, before moving to the Mashonaland region of Southeast Africa, where she helped run her father's furniture business. Cynthia's true passion, however, was writing, and what fascinated her more than anything else was the paranormal.

Although primarily a writer of short stories for radio and magazines, in nineteen sixty six, Cynthia secured an interview with apparent alien abductee Elizabeth Clara. She'd been hooked on the UFO phenomenon ever since. In nineteen fifty six, Elizabeth Clara alleged that she'd been having an affair with an astrophysicist named Akon, who traveled to Earth from a distant planet known as Meton.

Cynthia was dubious of Clara's story, but also fascinated as to why she would make up such an extraordinary claim if it wasn't true. Cynthia's resultant article was eventually published in nineteen sixty nine in Fate, a popular American magazine specializing in the possibility of the paranormal. Her life would

never be the same again with us. In weeks, Cynthia found herself inundated with letters from countless others desperate to share their various supposed UFO experiences from around the continent. Representatives of a newly established American organization known as the Mutual UFO Network or MOUFON, were also quick to get in touch. MOUFON originating from an earlier group known as the Aerial Phenomena Research Organization was established to bring a

measured scientific approach to the investigation of UFOs. They wrote to Cynthia asking if she'd like to conduct research on their behalf excited at the prospect of developing a relationship with someone operating from the African continent, but Cynthia was reluctant. She was only really interested in the personal angle behind

the phenomena, rather than the phenomena itself. Being at the start of her career, she was also wary of the inevitable ridicule and stigma that might be attached to her if she associated with a group like the Mutual UFO Network. In the end, Cynthia reasoned that simply presenting personal accounts or supposed UFO experiences was not the same as saying she believed in them herself, and as far as she was concerned, it was all relevant to understanding the UFO phenomena,

whether the origins were unearthly or not. Cynthia accepted MUFON's invitation to write for them in nineteen seventy four, after which she was appointed an official field researcher for the next few years, she investigated all manner of alleged UFO sightings from across Africa. In July nineteen seventy eight eight, Cynthia traveled to Dayton, Ohio to attend her first MUFON conference.

She was utterly spellbound by the speakers in attendants giant names in ufology such as j. Allen Heineck, the US Air Force's own UFO investigator, and Major Donald Keiho, a leader in the field, to name a few. She felt at home among the other members of MOUFON, whom she was pleased to discover were not at all like the deluded crack pots she'd first imagined. Many were learned individuals with distinguished academic records in physics, psychiatry, geology, and medicine.

In nineteen eighty one, Cynthia returned to the conference to present her own paper on African encounters, where she rubbed shoulders with the likes of retired nuclear physicist turned euthologist Stanton Friedman. Friedman is thought to be the first civilian to document the site of the infamous Roswell incident, an alleged cover up of an alien spacecraft that supposedly crash

landed in nineteen forty seven in Roswell, New Mexico. By the time she published her first book, UFOs African Encounters in nineteen eighty two, Cynthia had become somewhat of an authority on the subject and was regularly invited on TV and radio to talk about her research. It was this reputation that explained the incessant phone calls that hadn't stopped since Cynthia left the house that strange September night in

nineteen ninety four. On returning home, she picked up the first of many calls that night, as various friends and acquaintances rang her up, eager to share their stories of that evening's peculiar events. It hadn't been a boy, at least not one exploding on the ground, but rather something unusual that had taken place high above the land. Strange lights, they kept saying, streaking across the sky in a parade of color and sparkle, like a giant Roman candle shooting

out across the heavens. Cynthia worked tirelessly, scribbling down each report as it came in, but could barely keep up. Eventually, she called the editor of the local herald paper with whom she had a good relationship, to see if they'd heard anything too. As Cynthia expected, they had also been inundated by calls from as far away as Johannesburg attesting to the strange lights. Her enthusiasm, however, was soon dampened

after learning that their origins had already been determined. As the editor explained, it was simply a meteorite shower, extraordinary and beautiful in its own right, no doubt, but not what Cynthia had been hoping for. Yet, as the cause continued late into the night, Cynthia couldn't escape the feeling that perhaps not all was as it seemed. One person Cynthia spoke to on that September evening was Vivian Pasco, a teacher living in Bulaweyo, over five hours drive west

of Ferrari. Vivian recounted how at precisely eight point fifty four, she stepped out of her cottage for some fresh air when she caught sight of something moving in the clouds above. Looking northwards, she watched for over a minute as what she described as flashing, shimmering and smeary lights moved low

across the sky, heading south towards some nearby hills. Then there was the report from a mister Alexander, a specialist in aircraft fire prevention, who along with a friend, spotted what they assumed to be an aeroplane in distress with flames shooting off the wing, describing a quote cluster of small white lights extending across the fuselage from one wing

to another. They watched as the apparent craft, similar in size to a seven four seven jumbo jet, moved silently from north to south at a low altitude, barely twenty meters above the tree tops. Intriguingly, as it moved, said Alexander, it kept a level flight path. Cynthia thought this a little strange for a meteor shower. Even more strange, however, was that the main object, according to Alexander, appeared to

be metallic in nature. Many sightings came in from the shores of Lake Cariba, a popular tourist destination in the northwest of Zimbabwe. Alexander Law, who was staying at the lakeside Cutty Sark Hotel, first saw it as a white light growing on the horizon. Soon after he realized it was in fact moving with what he counted to be

fourteen other lights flashing around it. Looking closer, he was able to make out a dark center in the primary object, as well as a long orange tail that streamed behind it. Similar accounts flooded in from the region, with many reporting that the objects had been observed changing direction. Cynthia worked hard to make a recD cord of the sightings, but with most media outlets happy to accept the meteorite explanation, the event seemed destined to become little more than a

forgotten celestial quirk. That was until something completely unexpected came to light. Children pour into the playground in a blur of khaki shorts, sky blue dresses, and bright red jumpers, spilling out into the acres of scrub with wild abandon before finally coalescing into more orderly groups. Some whiz around chasing balls or play on the seesaw and climbing frames, while others are content to just huddle together under the shade of the big eucalyptus tree. It's a beautiful late

winter day without a cloud in the sky. Allison, a physiotherapist volunteering in the school talk shop outside, can't help but smile as she watches the children shriek and giggle about in the bright morning sun. There's a little more crackle than usual in the air that morning, owing to the fact that the teachers are still gathered inside for an early term staff meeting, giving the pupils free reign

of the field. It had been left to Allison, whose ten year old daughter Fifi attends the school, to single handedly supervise the two hundred and fifty odd children. Built in nineteen ninety one, aerial school was constructed on the site of an old farm roughly twenty miles east of Ferrari in the town of Ruwa, a small rural community that also serves as a municipal hub for the many

surrounding homesteads. As a fee paying facility, its pupils, aged six to thirteen, come from the wealthier parts of Zimbabwean society. They constitute a broad mix of ethnicities and a belly and Kranger, among other tribes to first and second generation European immigrants. The playground is divided into an area for swings and climbing frames used mostly by the younger children, and a two acre stretch of dirt and grass. Thick scrubland and a line of tall gum trees form a

natural border at the end of the dirt flat. Beyond that runs a dry creek and vast swathes of savannah, which merges with a series of low rolling hills sloping gently at the horizon. Children from these parts no better than to disappear beyond such natural boundaries. After all, there's no telling what creatures might be lurking in the tall grass, waiting either to pounce with teeth and claw, or to defend themselves with deadly venom at the slightest hint of

a threat. Eleven year old Salma is making her way towards her friend Emma at the back of the playground when she becomes aware of a loud, buzzing noise. A row of wooden utility poles and power cables run under the trees at the eastern edge of the playground and stretch off into the distant plains. The sound seems to be coming from there. Sama signals to Emma to join her,

and the pair head over to investigate. As they draw closer to the trees, the buzzing intensifies when suddenly, a flash of light flares up from somewhere in the distance. What was that, asks Selma, as the pair turn to see where the light had come from. Look, says Emma, pointing to the far end of the playground. Salma and Emma watch with amusement as a small group of children gather by the trees at the edge of the playing field. It was as if someone had just called them over.

Salma and Emma keep watching as more children join them, running across to them from all ends of the playground. Come on, says Emma, excitedly, grabbing Selma by the hand. At the tuck shop, supervisor Alison has just noticed how quiet it's become when twelve year old Luke comes tearing up to the hut, Come quickly. Allison listens patiently as Luke struggles to get his word out, something about a tiny man in a black, shiny suit with large eyes

and a silver lace tied around his forehead. Alison, suspecting it might be a trick to lure her away from the sweets, has no intention of falling for it, But as Luke continues to babble, she becomes aware of the faint sound of crying. When she looks up, there are more children heading towards her. Some are wide eyed with alarm,

while others are inconsolable with tears. All arrive with the exact same story that some kind of object landed in the trees at the back of the playground and two little beings with strange eyes wearing silver and black suits got out of it. Suddenly concerned by the obvious distress of the children, Alison looks around for her daughter, Fifi. She finally spots her, running towards the tuck shop. Why is everyone crying, Alison asks, because of the glowing white

thing that landed, says Fifi. Allison stares at her daughter and finds no trace of mischief in her eyes. Inside the school, Headmaster Colin Mackie is just wrapping up the meeting when an urgent banging is heard on the staff room door. He opens it to find a pupil in an agitated state. A ship has landed in the playground, he says. Mister Mackie chuckles at the boy, telling him to go back outside and at the meeting will be

over soon, before closing the door. Ten minutes later, the teachers emerge into the playground, chatting amiably as they walk into the light. Then, one by one, each of them falls completely silent. There before them. Instead of children laughing and playing as they'd expected, they see instead twenty or so pupils huddled together with tears streaming down their faces, while other classmates try to console them. Most of the others stand around in small groups, deep in conversation. Some

are still wandering about in a strange days. Allison is comforting some of the children when mister Mackie approaches her. What on Earth's been going on? He asks, But before Alison can explain, the children drown her out, speaking rapidly over each other as they try to articulate exactly what they've apparently seen. Some say they saw it land, others

that it was already there when the arrived. They speak of how it glinted in the trees and its oddly circular shape, but most of all, they just want to talk about the two beings that came out of it, and their peculiarly large eyes that seemed to wrap around their whole face. The teachers can only look to each other with complete disbelief. Despite its skepticism, head teacher mister Mackie is eager to get to the bottom of it all and asks anyone claiming to have seen something to

follow him into the school hall. With over sixty children gathered inside, mister Mackie and two other teachers asked them to spread out with paper and pens and draw exactly what they saw. For the next thirty minutes, the children sit in concentrated silence, sketching and coloring, while the teachers talk among themselves, relieved to have finally calm the children down. Little attention is given to the array of bizarre saucer like shapes and stick figures now appearing simultaneously on pieces

of paper throughout the hall. After thirty minutes, the children hand in their work. The teachers look down at the peculiar drawings as they receive them, more amused than anything else. As each new drawing comes in, they asked the child, was it not a helicopter you saw? Are you sure it wasn't just a farm hand from the next door homestead?

And when each child insists that it wasn't, the teachers invariably reply, you've been watching too much TV, or they tell them that it was just their imagination and that there's no such thing as aliens from outer space. When the bell rings for class, the teachers gather up the last of the drawings and tell the children to try and forget about whatever it was they think they saw. But eleven year old Salma knows exactly what she's seen.

Like many of the kids, her family don't even own a TV, and though some of her classmates talked about aliens and UFOs, she had never heard those terms before today. By the time she makes it home from school, she feels she's done nothing but speak about the event all afternoon, yet not one of the grown ups has heard a word she's been saying. So when her mother asks her what's up when she sits down for dinner, Salma is

reluctant to talk. You won't believe me if I tell you, she says, as she pushes her food around the plate. None of my teachers do, but her mother perseveres, and finally Salma relents. Sama takes a deep breath and then begins. She tells her mother first about the flash of light and about how when it happened, she and her friend Emma had the feeling that time had squished, as if

it were no longer a part of her thoughts. Sama also tells her mother about how when she and Emma had reached the crowd of kids gathered at the back of the playground. That's when they saw it, a large, silverish object on the ground by the trees. She didn't know what it was, but it seemed mechanical, like it might move away at any moment. Only it didn't look to be made from any material that she'd seen before.

But what she was most transfixed by was the creature that stood in the long grass barely five yards away. It looked human like, she said, but no taller than a child, and its whole body was covered in a shiny black suit like a scuba diver. And its face she couldn't take her eyes off. Its face, a blank, smooth space like the surface of a porcelain jug, although

it seemed to have no eyes, nose, or mouth. When she looked at it, she had the very distinct feeling that it was looking directly at her, as if it was trying to understand her. She said, it felt like it knew me, she tells her mother. What's more, it kept jumping back and forth from one place to another, only, as she explains, she never saw it actually move, almost as though it was only moving whenever she blinked. Were you afraid? Her mother asks. Salma looks up suddenly from

her plate. You believe me, she says hopefully. I don't know what it is you saw, but yes, I believe you. Salma's mouth burst into a wide grin. No, I wasn't afraid. That evening. Throughout the homes of the other sixty odd children who also claimed to have seen the extraordinary incident, the same conversation took place, despite their teacher's advice to forget about it. Like Salma, many other children also felt

the apparent being had been studying them. Those who were left afraid by the whole ordeal endure a sleepless night. They stare out of their bedroom windows, terrified at the thought of the small, black suited creatures returning to steal them from their beds. Those two, afraid to even tell their parents are left to suffer their nightmares alone in the dark. Others stay up all night, their young minds whirring as they try helplessly to piece together what they've seen.

Perhaps the teachers were right, they think, maybe it really was just their imaginations playing tricks on them. That evening, back home, in his living room, head teacher mister Mackie sifts through the drawings properly for the first time, becoming more and more troubled the more of them he sees. One after the other, he sees the same set of images drawn by each of the children, pictures of some kind of craft on the ground and humanoid figures with wide,

bulbous eyes stretching high around the face. You've been listening to Unexplained Season seven, episode seventeen, What Lies in the Long Grass Part one, The second and final part, will be released next Friday, March eighth. This episode was written by Richard mc lean smith. Unexplained as an Avy Club Productions podcast created by Richard mc lean Smith. All other elements of the podcast, including the music, are also produced

by me Richard mc lean smith. Unexplained. The book and audiobook, with stories never before featured on the show, is now available to buy world wide. You can purchase from Amazon, Barnes and Noble, water Stones and other books stores. Please subscribe to and rate the show wherever you get your podcasts, and feel free to get in touch with any thoughts or ideas regarding the stories you've heard on the show. Perhaps you have an explanation of your own you'd like

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