by Renee Topper
Jalil sees this over his shoulder. He reaches to touch the glasses but can’t. He is overcome and pale. He turns his back on it and walks toward the expanse of flat dry land in front of him. He walks another yard and leans over from the wrenching in his stomach. His body wants to throw up, but he hasn’t eaten in days, so he dry heaves. Otherworldly primal sounds convulse as his back inverts with each heave. It goes on for a mere three minutes. Akida and his men just watch him. Then it stops more abruptly than it began. Jalil takes a deep breath, wipes the drool from his mouth and scours the horizon with his eyes in desperation, searching for his daughter, some reason in this madness. Jalil picks himself off the ground and comes back to Akida. He picks up the melted plastic. “Elle est aveugle sans ses lunettes. She is blind without her glasses.”
He walks the perimeter and studies the tracks. The other vehicles went toward the woods. He follows them. Tracks the tire marks to footprints, the broken branches, the piece of torn fabric. He heads back toward the van. He finds a woman’s sandal and then another. There was someone else there, someone who ran, someone they caught and struggled with, but no body, no blood. So some one they took.
#
The trucks pull up to the Police Station and park. The burnt body is unloaded and taken inside.
Jalil rushes toward Rhadi’s. Akida directs his men to detain him. “Il sait où elle est! He knows where she is!”
Akida stands his ground, “Ceci est mon travail. This is my job.”
“Puis le faire! Then do it!”
“Vous voulez quelqu'un à blâmer, mais il est pas lui. Il est un flingue kak, mais il ne mérite pas votre rage. Aller se rafraîchir. Penses-y. Votre énergie peut être mieux dépensé. Je vais interroger Rhadi. Mes hommes vont le chercher et l'amener à la station maintenant. You want someone to blame, but it’s not him. He is a kak gat, but he doesn’t deserve your rage. Go cool off. Think about it. Your energy can be better spent. I will question Rhadi. My men will collect him and bring him to the station now.”
Akida directs his men toward the Kuchuna Office.
Jalil is still full of adrenaline and sweating. He reluctantly turns and walks in the opposite direction, toward the Mukuyu Tree.
24
Burning
July 8 (later)
Kennen is surrounded by lean angry men who have their guns pointed at him. Bandits. That’s what he called them that first day. There must be eight of them. She didn’t hear their jeep and truck pull up. He’s calm, outside, his heart races within. He raises his hands in the air.
She hears murmurs but is too far away to make out what’s being said. They are so angry with him -- more the world, and taking it out on him -- a small white man from another country they maybe never even heard of. She squints, trying to see. Their leader, a tall man wearing a blue golf shirt and shorts, pulls Kennen’s head out of the open window and pounds his skull with the heel of his rifle. Kennen’s head falls loose, unconscious.
She stands there frozen, helpless. She can’t go to him. She can’t help him. Her dear Kennen. They take the supplies out of the van. One of the bandits takes a jug of gasoline from the jeep and pours it on the engine at the front of the van, he circles the vehicle covering it and emptying the last trickles on Kennen’s head. The smell and sting of the biting liquid wakes him. He moans from the pain and the bandit butts his head with his rifle again, sending his head back in the van. He sets the van aflame with some matches. Kennen sees Aliya off in the distance through the vapors and birthing flames. He moves to get out of the van, but the men hold his doors closed with their feet until the flames reach and engulf him.
Aliya bares blurry witness to all of this. Her body unleashes a primal guttural screech from the core of her being, sound she didn’t know her body was capable of. Her hand moves to cover her mouth, to take it back. But she can’t. It’s too late and loud. All of the bandits have their eyes on her. Kennen screams and flails in agony, the flames eat away at his innocent flesh.
Four of the bandits take off after this new female albino prey. The bandits become hunters. She is frozen, watching her dearest and nearest friend, her lovely Kennen, burn. The bandits get closer. Something in her awakens. She rises to her feet and starts running away from them, as fast as she can. The trees are the only shelter for miles and even they are at least three miles away. She runs, pushing hard against the hard dirt. Her sandals are slowing her down so she throws them off as she goes. The air is sharp in her lungs and the blood pumping through her veins throbs, but she pushes onward. Three miles feels like ten. She looks over her shoulder. They are gaining.
They coo and call, laughing as they gain on her. And now their leader is trailing with the other men in their vehicles. She is prey. This was not the Africa she wanted nor imagined. This is too real. She looks up to the sun, but finds no mercy. It disappears behind the veil of trees, as she steps into them. They are not as forgiving as she’d hoped. They are skinny with little foliage and will not provide her with cover. She has nowhere to hide. She pushes on. But wait, the catcalling has stopped. She slows down to listen. There is the sound of footsteps crunching on the dry grass on her right, more on her left, then in front of her…she is surrounded. She stops. There is only the sound of her breathing. She can feel them. Their circle closes in. They laugh at her. One of them hits her under the chin with the base of his machete. The force throws her backwards to the ground. He climbs on top of her and tears at her clothes. She is dizzy at first, unable to breathe. He grabs at her underwear and she struggles. He cuts them off of her. Just as he is about to rape her, their leader kicks him in the head, yelling at him and the others -- something she can’t understand. He takes her by the hair and drags her up. She claws at him, kicks and spits at him, getting a good swipe to his leg. He throws her to the ground, and orders them to take her to the truck. The guy who attacked her clocks her again but this time on the back of the head, right where old man Carter got her with his cane when she was a child. She blacks out.
25
Elder
July 17 (later)
The majestic Mukuyu Tree boldly stands on the plain, against the backdrop of a piercing brilliant sunset.
Jalil is not alone in its shade, Elder is there too. They sit in silence. An odd pair. Worlds apart in experience, attire, ...but there are more similarities than differences. Elder squats next to his walking stick with his boney knees cutting into the air in front of him. Jalil is sitting on the ground, in the same slacks he’s been wearing for days. Most striking is their bone structure. These men could be distant cousins maybe even brothers, save for the difference of fifty years and eighty pounds between them. Yes, Mama Nature is powerful. She has her own way of showing us our true selves, whether we choose to see or not.
Elder breaks the silence… His voice runs over in Swahili. Jalil seems to understand what he is saying, even though he doesn’t speak the same tongue. “Mizizi yake wameshuhudia vizazi vyetu na sisi wazima kutokana na matunda yake. Hawatambui wao ni kukata miguu na mikono ya dada zao na ndugu.” Its roots have witnessed our generations and we have grown from its fruit. They do not realize they are cutting off the limbs of their sisters and brothers.
Jalil answers with a confession, “When Aliya was born...I didn’t understand. I didn’t believe she was mine. No matter what the doctors said. That little white thing wasn’t mine.” He pauses and then continues, “I kept re-enlisting. It was easier, for me anyway. Then I got caught up fighting other peoples’ wars. Last job, camped in Teheran...” As Jalil speaks he is recalling the vivid recent experience four months ago that helped bring him to this moment…He continues, “I wasn’t on a mission. Wasn’t doing anything, just driving a damn truck. This guy was walking on the side of the street. He had something under his coat. I shouted at him in Arabic, ‘Show me your hands. Open your jacket.’ I kept telling him to open his jacket. I kept telling him. He wouldn’t do it. Wouldn’t put his arms up. He started to run. I shot him. When he fell, this little girl fell out
from his arms. Both hit by the same bullets. She looked at me, so calm. She looked like Aliya. She held her hand out to me. She stopped breathing. That man died protecting his daughter and I abandoned mine.”
#
The Elder looks at him.
“I came back twenty years too late. I didn’t protect her. I ran in fear...I’m no worse than the Witch Doctors or the father that sold his own son...All she’s ever done is help people and want me for who I am. And I have hurt so many people.”
The moment is still. They remain quiet looking out to the surrounding lands.
26
White Magic
July 18
The moon hangs full-bodied and low, well past its nightly peak, flicking glimpses of figures emerging from the thickest black. Drums beat rampant, the pulse to the attack. White. Black. White. Black. Blacks powdered white, white power, in the night. Ghosts with blades drawn and led by the Creepy Man in white face. They encroach upon the Mukuyu.
Jalil is at the base of the tree, hidden in the shadows of the trunk. He sees them coming. He looks up in the branches of the tree. Aliya is there, ghostly white. Her arm is outstretched like a branch. Luamke’s words sound in his head, “Here people with your daughter’s condition are zeru-zeru. They are ghosts. You can’t kill a ghost.” Creepy Man grabs the arm and holds up his knife to strike. Jalil is about to fight back, but freezes when he sees Creepy Man’s face morph into his own.
#
Jalil wakes from his nightmare, sweaty and disturbed. His eyes are wide and wild looking. He gets up quickly, still in his clothes, puts on his shoes and runs from his quiet hotel room into the hazy morning streets. He runs past the mines and to the Magistrate’s office. The door is locked. He’s that early. He waits, pacing and pensive.
Eventually, the Magistrate Luamke approaches, on his way in. Jalil sees him and hurries down the block to meet him. “Magistrate?”
It’s obvious by the downward shift in his expression, that he’s not thrilled to see him, “Mr. Scott. What brings you here this early?” He keeps walking.
Jalil stays with him. “Why do albinos sell for so much money? It can’t be the bush people. They don’t have that kind of money. Who is paying $1000 for a foot?”
The Magistrate is annoyed. “Good question, Mr. Scott.” Emphasizing if, “If that is the case, then, who do you think?”
“But, the only people with money are people rich off the resources and mines...”
“As I said.”
“Do you believe in albino magic?”
“What are you implying? You sound more and more like your daughter.”
“Oh, now you remember speaking with her about more than the Lakers.”
“I’m due in court.”
“Why bother? Your court is a lie.”
“Enough, Mr. Scott, or I will have you arrested for obstructing justice.”
“What justice!”
This is enough to stop Luamke on the steps to face him.
“What would you do? If she were your daughter?”
“She’s not.” The magistrate steps past him and walks into the building. As the door closes behind him, Jalil sees a man through the door who looks like the Creepy Man. Jalil tries to pursue him, but the magistrate’s aide blocks the entrance. The Creepy Man is gone.
#
Jalil is at the front desk of the police station. Akida’s deputy responds to Jalil, “Aucune personne de ce nom. No one by that name.” Jalil goes to Akida’s office while the deputy tries to stop him. “Monsieur, vous ne pouvez pas... Sir, you can’t...”
Jalil opens the door. The office is empty.
“Vous ne pouvez pas être ici. You can’t be in here.”
Jalil looks around for his next move when Akida arrives, his voice is raspy, and perhaps these are his first words of the day, “Bonjour, M. Scott. Good morning, Mr. Scott.”
“Vous laissez Rhadi aller. You let Rhadi go.”
“On n'a rien à lui tenir avec. We have nothing to hold him with.”
“Il est la dernière personne qui les vit. He’s the last one who saw them.”
“Il est le dernier que nous savons pour les voir. Je lui ai presque pris en garde à vue pour le protéger de vous. Il a un alibi. Il vérifie. He’s the last one we know to have sees them. I almost took him into custody to protect him from you. He has an alibi. It checks out.” Akida takes a seat at his desk, Jalil follows.
“Il est confirmé, le corps appartient à Kennen. Ce garçon a été brûlé vif. La cause de Rhadi est plus important pour lui. Tout ce atroce ne l'aidera pas. Ce genre d'attention se serait tué aussi. It is confirmed, the body belongs to Kennen. That boy was burned alive. Rhadi’s cause is more important to him. Anything this atrocious will not help it. This kind of attention would get him killed too.”
“Par qui? By who?”
“Vous ne faites pas amis quand vous menacez les gens religieux au pouvoir ou leurs croyances. You don’t make friends when you threaten religious people in power or their beliefs.”
“Où puis-je acheter du sang albinos? Where can I buy albino blood?”
Akida takes a step back, unsure. He sees it now, the wild desperation in a father’s eyes.
“Où est-ce que je vais? Where do I go?”
Akida steps back again, holding the door for him to enter. Akida motions for him to sit. Jalil is too restless to sit, instead he paces. “Les chances de votre fille en vie sont impossibles. The odds of your daughter being alive are impossible.”
“Où est-ce que je vais? Where do I go?”
“Vous pensez que vous trouverez la paix de cette façon? You think you will find peace this way?”
“La paix? Je trouverai Aliya. Peace? I’ll find Aliya.”
“Mr. Scott...”
“Avez-vous passé aux sorciers? Avez-vous demandé l'un d'eux? Have you gone to the witch doctors? Have you asked any of them?”
“Tu es fatigué. Je ne pense pas que vous comprenez. You are tired. I don’t think you understand...”
“Je comprends que ma fille a été prise, son amie brûlé vif et il n'y a personne pour me dire ce qui lui est arrivé. Je comprends qu'il ya quelqu'un en haut de cette chaîne de la corruption, un peuple puissant qui peuvent payer 100K $ pour un albinos. Je comprends que la seule façon que je vais arriver à cette personne et de trouver ma fille est en commençant par le bas de cette chaîne. Aliya est vivant et je vais la trouver, peu importe où je dois aller ou ce que je dois faire. I understand that my daughter was taken, her friend burned alive and there is no one to tell me what has happened to her. I understand that there is someone at the top of this chain of corruption, a powerful person who can pay $100K for an albino. I understand that the only way I’m gonna get to that person and find my daughter is by starting at the bottom of that chain. Aliya is alive and I will find her, no matter where I have to go or what I have to do.” Jalil storms out into the street.
Rhadi is outside in the shadows. He has been listening at the open office window. Jalil doesn’t see him as he walks away.
Jalil goes to the Hotel Geita. He looks crazed compared to the reserved somber solace of the lobby. He collects his messages in the lobby at the front desk. There is a note for him which reads: “Mr. Scott, I am staying at the Geita Hotel tonight, retrieving my brother’s remains and leaving for Ireland in the morning. I’d welcome the chance to meet with you. I am in room #13. - Fiona Dunnovan” Jalil goes straight to her room.
27
Fiona
July 18 (later)
Fiona is seated on the balcony looking out at Lake Victoria. Her eyes are set in swollen sockets from days of weeping, more tired than her soul. A gentle breeze blows fallen wisps of her loose bun. She is more reserved than her brother, but clearly kin by their features.
“I don’t know why I wanted to see you. Maybe to put a face to your voice, to see the face of someone else who is going through this...”
Jalil is seated in the chair across from her, also facing the Lake. “I w
as there when they removed his body from the van. I’m very sorry for your loss.”
“And I yours.”
Jalil looks away.
“You think she is still alive?”
Jalil nods.
“Have you considered that maybe...It’s just...I can only imagine what she’d be going through if she were still alive. Maybe she’d be better off.”
Jalil abruptly stands to leave, but something keeps him. At some level she’s right.
“Aliya never would have come here if it weren’t for your brother.”
“How dare you come in here and say such a thing! If anything, Kenny would have protected Aliya. He probably died trying. I was wrong to invite you here.”
He doesn’t go. Rethinking his words. Fiona stands to show him out. “What happened was pure evil, Mr. Scott. I’m praying for your daughter, every day, praying that wherever she is, she isn’t suffering. And what have you done for our Kenny? You come here and insult his memory. I’ll not have it. Please go.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m lost.” Jalil breaks down.
Fiona’s too unfurled to have much empathy for him at this point. “I suggest you look closer to your own.”
“What do you mean?”
“Never you mind.” she tries to dismiss her own words.
“What?”
“I spoke out of turn...I didn’t want to show this to you. It’s a video Kennen uploaded to his cloud the day before...” Fiona pulls up a video on her tablet. She presses play…
Aliya is driving. Kennen is secretly filming her on his mobile phone. She looks fragile, defeated. Kennen puts his finger on her nose playfully. His attempt to cheer her falls short as she pushes his hand away.