by PJ Skinner
They were all thrown through the door onto the floor in front of two rows of improvised seating, where the hierarchy of the rebel group sat. There was a strong smell of alcohol in the hut. A few of the soldiers had bright red eyes and looked stoned. There was loud jeering when they were thrown inside.
Joao sat in the middle of the front row wearing his kitten t-shirt. This time it was not at all amusing.
‘You will translate for the lawyer,’ Joao told Sam, indicating a small wizened man without a tooth in his head. The little man slipped off his chair and dropped to the ground. Standing, he looked even smaller. He had what looked like a pair of shorts tied around his waist with a piece of string, and what remained of a waistcoat covered his bony chest. Sam wondered if he was a pygmy.
He spoke with an authority belying his small stature, his voice quavering and spittle flying out of his mouth onto the dirt floor.
Sam struggled to understand his antiquated and flowery Portuguese, asking him several times to repeat himself.
Addressing the hostages, he said, ‘You have been called to a people’s court convened to deliver justice for the people of Tamazia. You are on trial for the theft of diamonds from the village of Kardo, the execution of local villagers and the violation of local women. I have witnesses from Kardo who will testify against you.’ He paused as Sam struggled with the legal terms.
‘MARFO, being a just and fair organisation, gave the company, Gemsite, the chance to pay reparations for the damage done to the village. But the company has refused to pay, despite the amount being reduced by half.’
Sam translated this in a shaking voice. Oh my God, that bastard has hung us out to dry.
Fred and Brian looked stunned. ‘This being the case, MARFO has decided to put the captives on trial for the wrongs of the company.’
Sam translated this, realising as she did that their last hope had gone. As she looked into the crestfallen faces of her fellow captives, she felt the cold chill of reality slip into the suffocating heat of the communal hut. They were going to die. It was only a case of when and how but not ‘if’ anymore. She felt her knees give out, and a short time later, she was surprised to find herself propped up against one of the central posts in the hut.
Tereza forced her to drink water. ‘Sam, you have to translate. Wake up. You have to translate.’
Sam got groggily to her feet. Faint with hunger and fear, she swayed on her weak legs. She could not stand for long, so Joao made her sit on a chair placed beside the lawyer.
The trial began.
***
Tereza stepped outside the hut into the cool night air. Despite her status as the widow of a war hero, she was not allowed to participate in the trial because she was a woman. She knew that the captives had no hope of redemption in a court in which all the jurors were drunk and aggressive. There was nothing she could do for Brian and Fred. They would have to fight their own ground, and she did not like either of them much anyway. They always excluded Sam.
She could not understand what Sam had done to be treated in such a way. The woman she knew was kind and brave and loved her boys like an auntie or a second mother. She had never seen Sam be horrid to anyone, even when she was depressed. Tereza remembered how Sam had saved Pibé at great risk to her own life. She knew that she had to try and save Sam in return.
She knew that it would mean the end of her life in Tamazia, but she was sure that she could make a new life with the money she had received from Eduardo for looking after Sam. She felt no loyalty to the rebels, who had used her like a servant since her husband died. Sam had shown her how it felt to be equal and she wanted that for herself and her children, no matter what the risk.
Her mind made up, Tereza ran back to her hut and dug under her bed until she found a small tin box. She opened it. The unused mobile phone was still there, accusing her of treachery with its shiny black case. She took it out and sneaked over to the generator hut where she plugged it in to a row of sockets placed along the wall. She rang the only number in the contact list.
After five rings, the phone was answered by Eduardo, who was panting.
‘The hostages are on trial,’ she said. ‘They will kill her. You must come early in the morning, or it will be too late. I will direct her to the house that you told me about. She is very weak. You must come, or she will die.’
***
Brian was on trial. A woman from Kardo spoke about the time her husband went out under the cover of night with twenty other men to pan the gravels on a strip of diamond bearing gravel that had been exposed by the company machines. They had been spotted. Her husband had been shot dead trying to run away by some of Grey’s security men.
Brian was charged with this murder because he was head of security. Brian looked confused as Sam translated the charges. Then he smiled as the misunderstanding of his role at Gemsite became apparent. Brian was too arrogant to realise that whatever he said he would still be guilty.
He tried in vain to explain the difference between the mercenaries and the internal security guards. He told them that he was not a member of Grey’s but head of internal security and that his job was to prevent stealing of the diamonds once they were mined. He never carried a gun in Tamazia and he had never shot anyone.
No one was listening. He was shouted down by the drunken rebel fighters who had got tanked up well before the trial started. Sam struggled to make herself heard above the jeering.
‘We know you were a soldier. You are a killer. We don’t believe you.’
Brian managed to stay standing despite some of the rebels jumping up, shouting in his face and shoving him. He muttered to himself.
Sam could hear him say, ‘It’s not true, it’s not true,’ again and again.
The fighters shouted, ‘Guilty, guilty, guilty!’
Brian was drowned out, but he kept trying. ‘A security guard looks after things not people. I didn’t ever use my gun.’
Sam tried to shout the translation over the drunken roars.
‘Silence!’ Joao yelled at him. ‘You have been found guilty of murder. You will be executed by firing squad. Take him outside and carry out the sentence.’
Sam’s throat constricted so much it almost closed over. She could not and would not, translate.
An eruption of cheering was followed by a nasty change in atmosphere. More rebels had come over to Brian and pushed him back and forth between them.
Sam protested over the clamour of angry voices.
Brian shouted at her. ‘What did he say, Sam? What did he say?’
Sam could not look him in the eye.
Suddenly, several large men grabbed Brian. One of them got him in a headlock and took him away. His eyes bulged with terror as they dragged him through the door.
Sam, who had stood up in protest, sank to her chair. As her blood sugar betrayed her, she feared she would faint again.
She could not take it in. After all this time, the fighters were just going to shoot them? People they had laughed with and drunk beer with? She was sure she had translated the tense wrong. Maybe they were just taking him back to his hut? There was shouting outside, which faded as the rebels moved away from the hut.
There was a moment’s silence and then a loud retort of what could only have been gunfire.
All the men in the hut cheered. Fred started to cry. He sobbed on his knees, his over-large clothes hanging in rags around his diminished frame.
Sam looked at the floor. She could not bear to catch his eye and to humiliate him further.
He did not have much dignity left but he had to defend himself. Their only chance was to stick up for themselves.
The rebels stumbled back into the hut and slumped on their makeshift chairs. There was a smell of cordite. Joao silenced the back rows by pointing his AK47 at them.
Fred was the next to be judged. He hauled himself to his feet and stood on the sandy floor, scratching his thigh for a non-existent itch.
Sam could not imagine what he had done to be on
trial and had hoped to help him by judicious translation. She knew what would happen to them both barring a miracle. She was not expecting the next development.
The lawyer re-entered the hut. From the marks on his shorts, he had urinated in some dark corner outside. He stood at the front of the rows of fighters. In a loud voice, he proclaimed that Fred would be tried for rape.
Sam made him repeat it three times.
Fred stopped sobbing and looked bemused. He looked at Sam for guidance. She shrugged at him. She had no idea what this was about, either.
Then, from a dark corner of the hut, a young woman was pushed forward. She was weeping and covered her face with her hands when she saw Fred. It was Dina, Fred’s girlfriend from Kardo. The fighters were baying for blood.
‘Do you know this woman?’ asked the lawyer.
‘Yes, I do,’ answered Fred. ‘We are friends.’
‘Friends?' asked the lawyer. ‘Have you had relations with her?’
‘Yes, we have been together for four months.’
‘Four months? Have you no shame?’
‘I am sorry. I don’t know what you mean. I love her.’
‘She is thirteen. That is rape in your country, is it not?’
Sam flinched. Where on earth did he get that piece of information? Fred looked astonished and then horrified.
‘Thirteen?’ he stammered. ‘Thirteen? She said she was sixteen. I swear.’
The lawyer turned to question the girl. She appeared to have been coerced to appear, as she did not want to answer the lawyer’s questions. She looked at Fred with a pleading expression.
As he started to sob again, she ran forward and wrapped her long limbs around him weeping, too. A couple of the less drunk rebels came forward and dragged her away.
‘It wasn’t rape,’ said Fred. ‘I paid her. I wasn’t the first. She is a prostitute. How can that be rape?’
Sam did not translate, but she could tell from the expression on the lawyer’s face that he understood far more English than he was letting on.
‘You have raped a thirteen-year-old girl. And then insulted her by giving her money. How would you feel if that happened to your daughter?’
Fred realized that he had made things worse. He pleaded. ‘But I love her. We were a couple. I gave her money because she asked me for it. I gave her the dress she is wearing. I didn’t know she was thirteen. I swear I didn’t know.’
Sam had to translate over a sea of jeers and insults. She knew that the lawyer had already made up his mind about the verdict.
Joao stood up to silence the tribunal who had taken up their chorus of guilty pleas again. ‘Take him outside,’ he said.
‘No,’ screamed Fred. ‘No, I don’t want to die.’
The girl freed herself from the soldiers and launched herself at Fred. She wailed and screeched and clung on to him like a leech. She had to be slapped hard to make her let go.
Fred howled in fear.
The soldiers prevaricated, uncertain of what to do.
‘Didn’t you hear me?’ asked Joao. ‘Take him outside and get on with it.’
Fred was dragged along the ground, as his legs would not carry him. His awful howls of fear could be heard through the walls of the hut. There was a thud, and he went quiet. This was followed by a single shot and the sound of a body being pulled over the sand.
The dreadful scenes had knocked the stuffing out of the tribunal, who had sobered up. Fred had become a favourite with the fighters and could often be seen trying to fix a mobile phone or explain something in sign language. They made fun of his skin, which got bright pink at the least provocation either by the sun or embarrassment. The execution of such a gentle being diminished the effects of the drink and affected the atmosphere in the hut.
Joao appeared uncertain how to proceed.
Sam sat on her chair. She wondered if she was brave or not because up to this moment, she had always assumed that she was a courageous person. People had called her brave for coming to Tamazia, and she had accepted it. Of course she must be to work in a war-zone.
But now, she was sure that she, like Fred, would have to be carried out howling. She envied Brian, who had not known what was happening until it was too late.
Joao pointed to a spot on the floor. Sam managed to walk to it without help. The tiny lawyer stood up again and accused Sam of stealing diamonds from the village of MARFO, causing starvation and penury.
Sam did not answer. She could not think of anything to say that she could remember how to translate into Portuguese. She knew that nothing she said would make any difference to the verdict.
‘Have you nothing to say in your defence?’ roared Joao.
Sam looked him in the eye, forcing a rebellious look onto her face. She drew herself up to her full height and tried to spit on the floor in defiance. But her mouth was dry. She waited for the verdict she knew was coming. She was another expendable foreigner, and her time had run out. She wobbled and almost fell.
There was an air of expectancy as Joao worked himself up to pronounce sentence.
Then the door of the hut opened, and Tereza came into the silent room. She stood in front of the tribunal and beckoned Sam to stand beside her. Sam tottered across the room and stood hip to hip with her.
Joao came to life and roared, ‘What are you doing in here, woman? You know it is forbidden for women to interfere with the decisions of the tribunal!’
‘I am a witness for the defence. I have a right to be in here as the widow of your most beloved war hero. You don’t tell me what to do. I have borne the children of Edison de Sousa.’
There was a muttering of assent in the hut.
The lawyer stepped forward. ‘This woman has stolen the property of the state of Tamazia. She has worked for the killer company Gemsite. She deserves to die.’
‘This woman has fed my children when they were hungry. She has brought them gifts from the capital. How many of you have helped the children of Edison the Brave? I have almost starved since he died. You, who are such big men, who judge people and shoot them for no reason, what have you done for the children of your biggest war hero?’
‘This is not a defence.’
‘And who saved Pibé from Malaria? Did you know she gave up her own medicine and risked death so that Pibé might live? I claim her life. She is mine to do with as I wish. Under our laws, she may not die until I have repaid her. You do not have the right to take her from me.’
‘I cannot agree. The woman must die, like her colleagues. They are all vermin and must be exterminated.’
‘I claim my right to get the judgement from the leader of MARFO. I know that he is due here tomorrow. Let the woman live until then.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. He will not save her. Let’s get this over with.’
Tereza stepped in front of Sam and shielded her with her body.
‘Don’t come any closer, or you will have to kill me, too.’
There was a definite shift in the mood of the room. The drunken fury had been replaced with a maudlin apathy. No one stepped forward to remove Tereza from the hut. No one touched Sam, who was in a catatonic state of fright and stared into the distance with her mouth open.
Joao stood and held up his hand to calm the room. He felt he was losing his audience, who were moved by the presence of Edison the Brave in their midst, personified by Tereza, whose eyes blazed.
‘Very well,’ he said. ‘We will wait until tomorrow, but that is all.'
He addressed one of the rebels. ‘Take her to her hut and guard it well.’
Sam was in an advanced stage of shock. She was unaware of what had happened. When the man grabbed her arm to take her away, her legs would not move. Feeling her resistance, he slung her over his shoulder, pushed Tereza aside and marched outside. He took her to her hut where he dropped her lifeless on the bed. Then he went back outside, made himself comfortable against the door frame and fell asleep.
Sam lay on her rough bed. She moaned with fear in her confus
ed sleep, close to death with shock, exhaustion and hunger. She had lost all hope of survival and was waiting for the end. Let it be quick. I would do it myself if I had a gun. She shivered with fear. Suddenly a small grainy hand took hers in the darkness. She squeezed the hand, but it did not disappear. She opened her eyes, convinced she was dreaming.
‘Sam, drink this now.’ It was Pibé. He held a battered plastic mug with dark liquid in it. She blinked twice but he was still there holding her hand and proffering the mug like a little gnome in the dark. Hauling herself up in the bed, she took the mug and sipped the contents. It was extremely sweet. Some sort of juice with added sugar. She sat for five minutes with Pibé, while the magic juice sent sugar coursing through her veins.
Pibé saw her inflate with new vigour and whispered, ‘Come on, Sam. You must follow me.’
He slipped onto his hands and knees and vanished. Sam was now sure she was dreaming. But with the sugar rush taking effect, she got off the bed and crawled after Pibé, who had disappeared into the dark at the wall of her hut. She felt his foot for an instant and then it vanished into a hole at the bottom of the wall. The hole was small but Sam was very thin now. To her surprise, she glided through it with no effort. She realised that Edison had grabbed her hands and pulled her out, sliding her over the damp, dew-covered earth.
Tereza was there, too. ‘For God’s sake, follow me.’
Sam was unsteady on her feet. If this was a dream, it was a good one. She staggered after Tereza, trying not to fall flat on her face. She was aware of the soft cool earth under her feet and the small sharp stones that penetrated the soles. But she felt no pain. Her boots were left behind in the hut, but nobody noticed, least of all the boys who never wore shoes of any type. She saw bats swoop beneath the bulbs in the village square, and she could hear their calls. Looking up at the starry sky, she ran straight into Tereza, who had stopped at the village fence.
‘Shhh, Sam. They will kill me if you are found now. Go through this hole and run out to the road. When you get there, you must run to the south, down that way.’ She pointed. ‘Do you hear me? Run fast, and don’t look back. You will be safe in the dark. No one will see you. Don’t stop running until you get to an old stone building on the left hand side of the road. It has a few tiles still on the roof. It’s the only one like it. You can’t mistake it. Go into the building and hide. The fighters will kill you if they find you but they will look for you to the north, as Zambia is only thirty kilometres away. Stay until someone comes for you. God bless you and keep you safe.’