by Darrel Bird
single entrance.
A young boy came out of the bush, saw them and went running through the entrance to the village. Soon, people appeared in the entrance, staring at them in amazement. Several of them carried what looked like AK 47 automatic rifles.
“I wonder if they will give us water and food. We may as well go and see.” The black skinned villager didn’t move as they walked up to the entrance. The kids hung back as the villagers looked stoically at these people who had appeared out of the bush.
“Do you understand English?”
They looked at one another in wonder at the strange language, and then turned their gaze back on Dan. The women eyed Gloria with curiosity. Suddenly, a very black man pointed to a boy and jabbered a few words; the boy went running back into the village. Soon, he appeared again with a short black man who looked at them in amazement. He walked through the entrance of the compound without hesitation.
“Are you European?” he asked in English.
“American.” Dan said.
“I am Mica Telaka. I am a missionary here. How did you get here?”
“Our plane crashed and we have walked three days now. Can you give us water?”
“Surely, my friends.”
“These villagers are my people; we will smile at one another, so they will accept you as my friends.” Mica began smiling; he pointed at his face to smile, so both Dan and Gloria forced their cracked lips to smile. Gloria did a better job of it, since she was a natural.
Mica turned and talked to the old black bearded man, who in turn motioned them into the compound. The old man walked proudly ahead of the villagers to a small round mud hut. He turned and pointed his machete at the door of the hut.
“He says you both stay here; he has given you my house, and I will go and stay with my brother and his family while you are here.”
“But we are not married.” Gloria looked startled at Mica.
“You do not understand, you both must stay here; my people are at war over grazing land for their cattle; it is not safe here, and you must stay here. My people will try to protect you until we can get you to the airstrip, but you must do as I say.”
“Thank you,” Dan said, shaking Mica’s hand. “We will do as you say.”
A young girl walked up and offered them each a clay bowl of water. Dan and Gloria smiled at her, then took the water and drank deeply of the cool liquid. She took the empty bowls and ran back for more.
Gloria looked up at Dan, “Well Bwana, what do you think?”
“I think we just got shacked up is what I think.”
Mica laughed; he seemed delighted at the situation. Gloria gave her best frown, and Mica slapped his thigh and laughed again.
Turning serious, he said, “Please do not go outside after dark; is too dangerous. It used to not be this way, but since the land has dried up, there have been constant skirmishes over grazing land; everybody has automatic weapons; there are many people killed and murdered here.” He looked sadly away.
“I’m sorry.” Dan said.
“We must get you to the airstrip, two days walk from here. We must get you safely back to your country. I have been there; is a beautiful country and no war,” he finished wistfully. “You go inside and I will bring you food.”
Dan bent over to go through the low door of the hut and Gloria followed him. They straightened up and looked around in the dim light. The hut had two small open windows, with a thatch covering that could be pulled down for privacy. There was one bed made of animal hides, but no cooking stove, so Dan guessed all the cooking was done outside. The only other items were a small table with a chair, and some of Mica’s clothing hung on the walls of the hut. The place was very primitive and simple. Mica had a writing tablet and two yellow pencils lying neatly on the table. Dan could only imagine the life of some of the missionaries who chose to come out here to minister to these herders and their families.
Soon Mica knocked on the edge of the door and brought some plates of food and a small pot. He gingerly sat the plates down on the table.
“This is beef and other vegetables; I hope it suits your taste.”
“Sit,” he motioned for Gloria to sit at the one chair at the little table. Mica prepared them strong tea laced with sugar.
“Thank you,” she said, as she sat down and went to work on the food. Mica poured them each a cup full of the strong tea. Dan took his plate and sat on the edge of the bed. Mica sat down to talk while they ate.
“The missionaries came here and they sent me to school in England. I decided to return home to try to help my people.”
“It is difficult here, because they have their shaman. But I have made some headway in evangelizing them. I want to go to America to school, and perhaps I will.”
“Since the land got drier, there is so much trouble here; the people fight and kill each other for the grazing of cattle.”
“I could possibly get you out,” Dan told him.
“No, I cannot go and leave my people; it is I who must get you out.”
“If the fighting does not cease, there will be nothing left of my people. Then I would go.”
“You may not live to get out,” Dan returned.
“I know this, but I must stay until the last one is gone.”
“I will go now and let you rest, I hope you will remember me. Tomorrow there will be a truck to take you to the airfield. I have sent word.” The sad missionary got up to leave.
“We will remember you.”
Dan handed him back the utensils, and he disappeared through the door.
“Is there nothing we can do?” Gloria asked.
“I don’t know what it would be, Gloria.” Dan laid his tired body down on the bed. Soon Gloria slipped in beside him, and that night, they consummated their love for each other.
The next morning at daybreak, Mica knocked on the door post again. “Awake! We must go, the truck comes.”
Dan and Gloria hurriedly dressed again in their filthy clothes and turned toward the door with swollen eyes at the sound of a truck buzzing toward the village. They rode in the back of a Toyota pick-up four hours with Mica, eventually arriving at an airstrip heavily guarded by soldiers. A plane sat waiting on the tarmac as the truck pulled in the gate. A man met them as they got down and rubbed their stiff legs.
“I have come to escort you to Durban.” He said, shaking their hands.
Mica hugged them both, bid them farewell, and climbed into the truck for the trip back to his village.
Three hours later they were in the busy airport in Durban, and two hours later they were sitting together on the way back to the states.
The company had called them at the Durban airport. “We thought we had lost you. Welcome back.” The voice of their boss sounded good to Dan.
They sat, saying nothing until Gloria said, “Dan, what are we going to do about us?”
“We’re going to do nothing, Gloria; we are going home to our families. Now wipe the tears from your eyes. You and I both know what we have to do, and we will do it.”
His hand found hers and she leaned her head against his shoulder, still crying softly.
The end