Broken Together

by K. S. Ruff

  “Well?” Rafael pressed the button for the fourth floor.

  I glanced at his reflection in the mirror. “They named the hotel after the Queen of Senehun because she brought peace to this region.”

  Rafael smiled. “Well, that certainly seems fitting.”

  “The sunglasses I can do. I’m not buying hair scarves,” Jase growled.

  “Suit yourself.” I shrugged. “You’re the one who has to fight off all the men trying to pet my hair.”

  Kadyn chuckled.

  “Fine,” Jase muttered, “but I don’t want to hear any complaints if you don’t like the color or the patterns I pick out.”

  “You won’t hear any complaints from me.” I rested my head on Rafael’s shoulder. All of the adrenaline I’d acquired through the chaotic airport, the bumpy boat ride, and the harrowing drive dissipated all at once. I was stifling a yawn when the elevator dinged.

  “I’ve got you,” Rafael whispered. He scooped me into his arms. Within minutes, he was tucking me beneath the most luxurious sheets. “Sleep well, my love.”

  “God is with us,” I whispered sleepily.

  “That he is,” Rafael agreed. My archangel lie on top of the sheets while cradling me in his wings.

  * * * * *

  “So what do you think?” I pushed against one of the desks, but it wouldn’t budge.

  Cory shook his head. “I don’t know. This isn’t at all what I expected.”

  “Do we have to use this room?” Shae frowned. “Maybe there’s another room where the desks aren’t bolted down.”

  A broken tile slid beneath my foot.

  Sammi caught me. “Kri!”

  “Sorry,” I murmured.

  Rafael obliterated the distance between us. “This building isn’t even remotely safe.”

  He wasn’t wrong. The floor, the ceiling, walls, and stairs were crumbling around us. The electricity had flickered off twice since we arrived. Fourah Bay College, once touted as Sierra Leone’s ivory tower, was bordering on uninhabitable. Dr. Jalloh, head of the Peace and Conflict Studies Department, revealed the dorms, which he called hostels, were so badly vandalized after the last student election that students could no longer live on campus. The university banned student elections after that, so there was no student government to advocate for improvements.

  Shae jumped when loud voices echoed down the hall. “I hope Dr. Jalloh is okay.” Three students had rushed into the room, shortly after we arrived, begging him to help break up a fight.

  Jase peered down the hall. “I think we should wait outside.” Kadyn and Jase had decided to forego sleep so they could inspect the campus and evaluate the security risks.

  Rafael noted our new location on the chalkboard so Dr. Jalloh would know where to find us.

  I followed Jase down the cement stairs. “Why don’t we hold the training outside? The campus grounds seem nice enough.”

  “I think that’s a great idea,” Shae echoed behind me. “We can purchase rugs for everyone to sit on and donate them to the university when we’re done.”

  Cory didn’t weigh in until we stepped outside. “We’re two weeks away from their rainy season. Any idea what the weather is supposed to be like?”

  Kadyn walked backwards while studying the building. “They’re not expecting any rain. Mostly sunny, upper seventies, and low humidity.”

  Brogan and Aidan joined us. They’d been walking the perimeter while we were inside. They remained close after speaking with Rafael.

  Shae eyed the busy street. “The other side might be quieter.”

  We walked to the side furthest from the street. There was a wide swath of grass, but it was strewn with litter. We stopped short when we caught sight of the hostels hiding behind the building. The broken and boarded up windows proved deeply unsettling. This was unlike any vandalism I’d ever seen. Someone had set out to destroy this university.

  “What’s that smell?” Shae covered her nose.

  Jase frowned. “Sewage, maybe?”

  Sammi smacked Cory’s arm. “Sorry, honey. I didn’t want that mosquito to get you.”

  Rafael and I exchanged glances. “Did you remember your anti-malarial medicine?” I asked.

  He nodded. “You?”

  “Yes,” I assured him. “Kadyn?”

  He nodded while turning in a slow circle. “I think it’s safer inside.”

  We returned to the front of the building, where a disheveled Dr. Jalloh was searching for us. “I dought maybe you had returned to dee hotel.”

  “No. We were thinking about holding the training outside. The weather is nice, and we really like the view,” Cory answered politely.

  Dr. Jalloh considered the view. “Dere will be far more students on campus tomorrow. Dis will make it difficult for your students to focus if you are outside.”

  I forgot today was Sunday. No wonder there were so few students milling about.

  Shae fidgeted nervously. “Is there another classroom we could use? We’d like to seat our students in a circle. We’ve found this helps promote dialogue and improve student participation.”

  Dr. Jalloh sighed. “When fights break out between dee Blacks and Whites…” He paused when he heard our collective intake of breath. “In Sierra Leone, dese terms do not represent skin color. Dey represent political ideologies. Dee Whites hold a European worldview and align wid dee APC, which is mostly comprised of dee Temne and Limba ethnic groups from dee north. Dee Blacks practice hard line Africanism and align wid dee SLPP, which is mostly comprised of dee Mende from dee south. Dare is a great deal of animosity between dese political groups. Desks or chairs may be drone if dee wrong person enters dee classroom first.”

  My eyes widened. I was mapping conflict in mining communities when our students could barely tolerate one another? I could see the wheels turning in Cory’s head. There were going to be some last minute changes to our agenda. “Are students from both groups attending our training?” I inquired hesitantly.

  Rafael squeezed my hand. “I’m going to make a phone call.” I watched him walk away, curious as to who he might be calling.

  “Yes,” Dr. Jalloh answered. “Bod groups require dis training so dey can learn how to resolve deir differences drew more peaceful means.”

  “Is there an even split among our students?” Sammi asked. We were expecting twenty-four students.

  “Yes. I was trying to avoid a power imbalance when I selected dee students for dis training,” Dr. Jalloh confirmed.

  “That will help,” Cory agreed.

  I eyed Dr. Jalloh uncertainly. I couldn’t imagine university students throwing chairs at one another. Nor could I erase those vandalized hostels from my mind. “These groups have been fighting for power and control on your campus. Everywhere they look they are reminded of the violence they have suffered at the hands of the other group. We cannot expect an open dialogue from students who are afraid to enter a classroom. We need to conduct this training on neutral ground.”

  Rafael rejoined the group. “I just spoke with Emmanuel. There is a conference room available at the hotel. We can use the hotel shuttle to transport students from the university if that would help.”

  “That’s perfect!” Shae exclaimed.

  “We’re staying at the Radisson Blu Mammy Yoko Hotel. Are your students familiar with Mammy Yoko’s efforts to bring peace to the Lpaa Mende region?” I inquired curiously.

  “Yes,” Dr. Jalloh answered. “My students will view dis as a great honor. Dey will conduct demselves respectfully while inside dee Blu Mammy Yoko hotel.”

  Cory smiled, visibly relieved. “We will send the hotel shuttle tomorrow morning at eight o’clock. We’ll provide lunch and return them by five o’clock.”

  “I regret our university is in such poor condition,” Dr. Jalloh fretted. He shook the wrinkles out of his jacket before tugging it back on.

  “Maybe we can inspire the students to make some improvements,” Sammi offered brightly.

  “You are welcome to
join us at the hotel anytime your schedule allows,” Shae added.

  He smiled. “I will stop by tomorrow.”

  Momka and his cousin, Amad, were standing outside their vehicles when we returned to the parking lot.

  Rafael helped me into Momka’s SUV. “I’m pleased you moved the training to the hotel.” He joined me in the third row.

  “Me too,” Jase agreed. He joined Kadyn in the back seat.

  Everyone else was riding with Amad, so Momka eased out of the parking lot.

  I threaded my fingers with Rafael’s. “I’m afraid we’ll be working through dinner. We weren’t aware of the animosity between these students or the violent conflict threatening this university. We need to help these students work through their differences so they can build peace in their community.”

  “How are you going to do that?” Kadyn asked.

  My brow furrowed. “I’m not entirely sure. We have to build some understanding of the theories and the strategies we’ll be applying first. We need to model a conflict and a mediation. Something… huge. A conflict even more appalling than the one they’re currently immersed in. Something that will really grab their attention. They need an ‘a-ha’ moment that will force them to connect the dots before we mediate their conflict.”

  Jase peered into the back seat. “Why do you have to resolve their conflict?”

  “These students will serve as role models, trainers, and mediators for their peers. They’ll lose credibility if they can’t resolve their own conflict.” My eyes snagged on the decrepit buildings outside my window. Freetown was a crowded and chaotic city full of contradictions. Despite a highly developed city center, there was a staggering amount of poverty. The street children and the shantytowns broke my heart. The homes in this section of town were lean-tos comprised of thin corrugated metal or plywood walls with no windows or doors.

  There were three major slums in Freetown. We were driving by one of them but remained on the outskirts. Momka warned they would throw rocks at our SUV and try to rob us if we ventured any closer. As frightening as that was, I felt it important to bear witness to this poverty so I could better understand the challenges people in Sierra Leone faced.

  I handed Momka my passport when the police stopped our vehicle at the immigration checkpoint. There were over a million people living in Freetown. Most were refugees displaced during their civil war. They’d spent their entire lives immersed in violence and poverty. No wonder their average life expectancy was only 45 years old.

  “Are you okay?” Rafael whispered.

  “Yes. Just thinking.” After seeing the university and the shantytown, I felt guilty about our luxurious accommodations. How would our students perceive those accommodations? Would they think we were above spending time at their university?

  Momka parked next to a cluster of palm trees when he pulled in front of the hotel. “Will you require my services dis evening?”

  “No, thank you,” I replied. “We’ll be working here at the hotel for the rest of the night.”

  “You will eat dinner?” he persisted.

  “Yes,” Rafael answered, “but we’ll be eating here at the hotel.”

  “You should try dee ground nut stew. My cousin is dee chef here dis evening, and ground nut stew is his specialty,” Momka announced proudly.

  I smiled. I was beginning to think Momka was related to everybody. He must have come from a very large family. “Thanks, Momka, for taking such good care of us.”

  He beamed at me.

  We met the rest of our group inside the hotel. “I’m going to pay for the conference room and the food for our training,” Cory informed us. “Let’s eat in the restaurant by the pool so we can discuss our agenda and strategize about the training.”

  “We’ll grab a table,” Kadyn offered. Sammi and Brogan remained with Cory. The rest of us joined Kadyn.

  Emmanuel intercepted us when we crossed the lobby. “You have decided to hold your training here?”

  “Yes.” Rafael slipped him a tip while shaking his hand. “Thank you for securing the conference room.”

  A wide, toothy smile brightened his face. “Dis is why I am here.” His eyes met Kadyn’s. “I have learned dee meaning behind your name.”

  A single eyebrow rose on Kadyn’s face.

  “Kadyn means fighter,” Emmanuel revealed.

  I sucked in a breath. “Kadyn! That’s so true. You served in the military, you protect our borders, and you fought to save me!”

  Emmanuel looked relieved. He seemed pleased Kadyn was fighting for honorable things. “I have also learned dee meaning behind your name, Jase, but I would like to know dee relationship between you two.” His chin rose toward Rafael.

  “Rafael hired me to protect Kristine,” Jase answered carefully.

  “So, dee Archangel Rafael assigned a healer to Kristine, dee woman who follows Christ. I am not surprised.” Emmanuel’s eyes softened when they met mine. “God has sent two healers and a fighter. You are protected on all sides.”

  Every time Emmanuel revealed something about our names, something inside me slid into place. “What about Shae?” She was standing next to Kadyn with her mouth agape.

  “I do not know dis name, Shae,” Emmanuel apologized, “but I will learn dis for you. You are a peacekeeper too?”

  Shae nodded. “Yes. Kristine and I work for the same NGO.”

  He offered her his hand. “I am Emmanuel, the concierge for dis hotel.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Shae murmured sweetly.

  “I will look for you tomorrow.” Emmanuel bowed before walking away.

  “How fascinating,” Shae mused.

  We continued on into the restaurant. “Can you accommodate a party of nine on the deck?” Kadyn asked the hostess.

  She counted out nine menus. “Yes. We can pull two tables togeder if you would like.”

  The deck offered a stunning view of the beach and the outdoor pool. Rafael and Jase helped our waiter pull two tables together before we ordered our drinks. Sammi, Cory, and Brogan joined us a few minutes later.

  We ordered quickly so we could focus on the training. Rafael, Kadyn, and I took Momka’s advice and ordered the ground nut stew. Sammi and Shae ordered the potato leaf stew. Cory ordered okra stew, and the rest of the guys ordered a creole dish named Krin Krin. We added a couple orders of cassava bread and plantain chips to share before our waitress walked away.

  Cory waited for the small talk to die down. “We’re going to have to mediate their conflict,” he finally announced.

  The waitress returned with our drinks. We were trying the palm wine and Star Beer she recommended. Each of us had sparkling water. Kadyn was drinking Sprite, no ice.

  “I agree. They won’t have any credibility as mediators or trainers if they are embroiled in a violent conflict.” Sammi grimaced after tasting the wine.

  “We can’t squeeze this in without taking something off the agenda.” Shae sighed. “I think we should remove secret societies and tribal initiations from the agenda.”

  I shoved the palm wine aside. The milky drink was far too bitter for me. “I think we should proceed as planned tomorrow morning. Our students should have a good understanding of the theories and the strategies we’re applying before we mediate their conflict.”

  “Agreed,” my teammates quickly replied.

  “We should change the fishbowl exercise,” I opined. The fishbowl exercise was scheduled to take place after the initial instruction, before the students started practicing in simulations. During the fishbowl exercise we formed a small circle inside the student circle so our students could observe us applying the various strategies and techniques.

  “So, you don’t want to mediate the mining conflict during the fishbowl exercise?” Cory surmised.

  I took a breath and slowly released it. “No. I think we should mediate a conflict far more appalling than that. We need to choose a conflict that will prove heart wrenching for them. They need an ‘a-ha’ moment that wi
ll force them to connect the dots between the conflict we are mediating and the conflict they are currently immersed in. The conflict we choose should motivate them to resolve their own conflict.”

  The waitress delivered the entrees, bread, and plantains.

  Sammi reached for the bread. “What do you have in mind?”

  I glanced apologetically at Cory, Kadyn, Jase, and Shae. “I want to draw on the darkest time in American history, so they know we aren’t judging their country. I want them to understand we’ve been there, that our country has overcome a similar conflict, and they can do the same.”

  “Go on,” Cory murmured cautiously.

  “I want to mediate the segregation of public schools,” I confessed.

  Sammi leaned forward. “You want to mediate Brown versus the Board of Education?”

  I nodded, then cringed when everyone fell silent.

  “That could work,” Shae mused. “Race, like ethnicity, is tied to identity. Since their political groups are formed on the basis of ethnicity, they are fighting over which ethnic group governs their school, and they’re discriminating against one another on the basis of ethnicity with their unwritten rules about who is entitled to walk into a classroom first.”

  Deep in thought, Cory rubbed his jaw. “Someone on our team would have to argue that blacks should not be allowed to attend white schools, that they should not be treated equally. If our students value their education, they’ll be outraged that someone would suggest such a thing. Maybe, if they look beyond their own conflict, at what happened in our country, they’ll realize they are on the fast track to making that same mistake. Essentially, this is the same argument their political groups are making… One ethnic group is fit to govern their school while the others are not. That same ethnic group must receive special treatment, such as entering the classroom first, or the nonconformists will be met with violence. What a crock.”

  Sammi stifled a giggle. “How could they not connect the dots when they refer to their political groups as the blacks and the whites?”

  “It’s risky,” I admitted, “and it’s going to require some acting on our part. If we really want to get their attention, then Sammi or I will have to say some pretty hateful things… things that are contrary to our beliefs.”