by Gill Lewis
Mateso puts his hands together beneath his chin. “And you want Imara to go with you and look after this young gorilla?”
Kambale nods.
Mama and Babu are silent, watching and listening.
“For how long?” says Mateso.
Kambale opens his hands out wide. “For as long as she wants.”
I feel my world turn upside down.
“The gorilla orphanage needs someone who can care for gorilla babies,” says Kambale. “We need someone who understands them.”
Babu shakes his head. “Imara is still a child. Where would she stay?”
“She would stay with my family,” says Kambale. “We can’t pay her, but we will look after her and also send her to school. Then maybe one day she will continue to work with us.”
I dig my fingers into the dirt, holding onto the world. I look across at Mama, but can’t read her face.
Mateso stands up and walks in a circle around us. “I have seen many things in my lifetime, but not even I can imagine what Imara has been through. She has grown into a woman many years before her age, and we should listen to her wishes. But her mother and father have only just found their child. This is for Imara and her family to decide. Let us leave them to discuss this.” He looks to the orange glow of the sun sinking low in the sky and turns to Kambale. “It is too late for you to return to your homes. You can sleep in our village tonight. In the morning, you will know if Imara will be joining you.”
* * *
When we are alone, Mama takes my hands in hers. “But, Imara, we have only just found you, and now you want to leave us.”
“It won’t be forever,” I say. “I’ll come back to visit you.”
“But your home is here,” says Babu. “Your people are here.”
I scratch in the dirt with my toe. “Babu, I see the way the villagers look at me,” I say quietly. “They’ve heard rumors about me. They are wary. They don’t trust me. They don’t accept me like they did before.”
“No,” says Mama.
“It’s true,” I say.
I glance at Babu, but he won’t look at me. “I’ve seen it in your eyes too. I know you want me here with you, but things can never be as they were before. We all know that. You still grieve for the girl you once lost. Part of her is gone forever. I grieve for her too.”
Babu takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. “This is where you belong. Your life is here.”
I shake my head and try to find the courage to say what I feel. “If I stay, I will be living in the shadows.” I look up at him. “Babu, I can’t escape my past. I can’t escape the things I have seen, but I can decide my future.”
Mama takes my hands in hers again and smiles. In the firelight, her eyes shine bright with tears. “What is it you want, Imara?”
I squeeze Mama’s hands, because I think she will understand. “I saw beautiful things too: the forests, the animals, and the people.” I think of the kindness of Frog and his family living on the edges of the park. “One day, I want to be a ranger. Bobo says the park cannot be protected unless the people who live around it are protected too. He says communities need to be involved; they need to be listened to. It was what his father was trying to do. I want to be part of it. It is where I see my future. All our futures.”
Mama nods and looks across at Babu. “Well, Babu?”
Babu gets up and walks away from the fire and stands with his back to us, looking out across the dark hills. I join him and stare up at the star-scattered sky. A crescent moon hangs low in the east. In the corral beside us, the cattle stamp and shuffle, getting comfortable for the night.
“Babu?” I say.
I feel his arm around me.
“It was a night like this that I held you for the first time in my arms and gave you your name,” he says. “Imara. It means the one who has strength within. I didn’t know then how much you would live up to your name.” He pauses, and I feel on the edge of something new, something just out of reach. “You can go,” he says, pulling me close to him. “With our blessing.”
I lean into him and smile. Even though it’s dark, it feels like a bright, bright light is shining deep inside me.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
It’s a long drive to the orphan gorilla center. I sit between Bobo and Saka and watch the villages and fields pass in a blur until we reach the forests.
“Has Kitwana eaten anything at all?” I ask.
Bobo frowns and stares out the window. “A little, but not much. The vets can’t find anything wrong with him, but most of the time he sits in the corner with his arms curled around himself as if he wants to block out the whole world.”
I think about all the things he’s seen and lost. It’s no wonder that he wants to hide from it all. It’s how I have felt too.
“We’re here,” says Kambale. Saka climbs out to open the gates of the gorilla center, and we drive into the center of the compound. Huge fenced enclosures each hold several gorillas. But these are all big adult gorillas. I look in the trees and on the ground where some are feeding, but I can’t see Kitwana here.
Kambale opens the jeep door. “Do you want a drink first?”
I shake my head. All I can think about is Kitwana. Kambale nods. “Come with me.”
I follow him with Bobo beside me.
“We have thirteen gorillas here,” he says. “Most have been saved from poachers. Some have been rescued from street markets. The local people here help us. We are working with them to protect the edges of the park.”
“What will happen to these gorillas?” I ask. “Will they be set free?”
Kambale shakes his head. “They have been in captivity too long, and they know no other life. In some places captive gorillas have been released into the wild, but not here.”
Kambale leads us past forested enclosures where the gorillas turn to look at us as we pass. “Kitwana is on his own for now,” he says. “We have been keeping him in the quarantine pen.”
I feel my heart thumping in my chest as Kambale unlocks the door. Maybe Kitwana won’t even recognize me. Maybe he will be too traumatized to come to me.
Kambale hands me a face mask to cover my mouth. “We all wear them to protect the gorillas from human infections,” he says. He puts his hand on my back. “Go in,” he whispers. “Go and find Kitwana. Let him see you.”
I pull the mask over my mouth and slip in through the door. The quarantine pen has four concrete walls and a concrete floor. The staff have added large branches for climbing and an old tire for Kitwana to swing from, but all I see is Kitwana huddled in the corner of the room, his back to the world. He is swaying back and forth, back and forth.
I step closer and crouch down behind him. “Kitwana!” I whisper.
I see his body become still. He holds his breath but doesn’t turn around.
“Kitwana!” I call, louder this time.
He turns and looks at me, his amber eyes finding mine.
I hold out my arms and watch him shuffle over, slowly at first, sniffing the air as if he doesn’t quite believe what he is seeing. Then he reaches up and wraps his arms around me, gripping me with his fingers and toes, as he pulls himself close. I wrap my arms around him and we stay like that, holding on to each other, neither of us wanting to let go.
Kambale crouches next to me. “Why don’t you and Bobo take Kitwana for a walk into the forest? Let him play for a while. Let him find some food.”
I nod and walk with Bobo. Kitwana releases his tight grip on me, and lets Bobo take his other hand. Bobo is silent as we walk through the trees, swinging Kitwana between us. Sunlight reaches down, casting deep shadows on the forest floor. We stop beside a fallen tree and let Kitwana scramble over the twisted roots. I lean against the trunk and watch him play. He doesn’t go far, and keeps glancing back at me to make sure that I’m still there. I feel the hot sun and the damp scent of the forest. I don’t want to leave Kitwana again. I want to stay in this moment. I want it to last forever. Kitwana comes back with a
handful of leaves and twigs and sits beside me, chewing them and tearing strips of soft bark from the woody stems.
“He’s eating.” I smile.
Bobo sits back against a tree root and folds his hands behind his head. “Is this what you want, Imara?”
I nod and reach out for Kitwana. I run my fingers beneath his armpits and tickle him. He squirms beneath my hands and wrinkles his nose in pleasure. “This is where I belong, here, with Kitwana.”
“What about leaving your family, your village?” says Bobo.
I put my hand to cover my scar. “What future would I have there, Bobo? I am not the girl they remember. Who would want me?”
Bobo sits up and takes my hand in his. “Look at me.”
I don’t want to look. I don’t want his pity.
But Bobo takes my other hand. “Imara, look at me.”
I turn and don’t see pity in his eyes, just truth.
“I see you, Imara,” he says, “and you are beautiful, to me.”
* * *
Kambale is waiting for us in the quarantine pen with some fresh leaves for Kitwana. I tear some and pretend to chew them to encourage Kitwana to eat.
Kambale watches me. “I’m glad that you came to work with us. Bobo was right; you have a natural way with gorillas.”
I look up at Kambale and smile. “This way I get to look after Kitwana, too.” I push my fingers through his fur. “I don’t want to lose him again.”
I see Bobo and Kambale exchange glances. Bobo stares down at his hands and won’t look me in the eye.
“What is it?” I ask.
“There are many young gorillas who will need your help,” says Kambale. “But not Kitwana.”
I wrap my arms around Kitwana. “What d’you mean?”
Bobo shuffles next to me. “It’s only been five weeks since Kitwana was taken from his family. Kambale thinks we should try to reunite them.”
I turn to Kambale. “What if the other gorillas don’t want him?”
Kambale takes a deep breath. “We think it is worth the risk. It is important to have as many gorillas in the wild as we can. Kitwana could grow to be a silverback one day, with a family of his own.”
“But so soon?” I say. “You said he hasn’t been eating.”
“If we return him now, his mother may still have milk to feed him.”
I shake my head and hold Kitwana tight against me. “But what if the other gorillas kill him first?”
Kambale nods. “It is a risk, but Enzi the blackback is still young. Usually it’s the silverbacks that kill babies that are not their own. Enzi is not a silverback yet. He has grown up with Kitwana. I think he will accept him back.”
“So why bring me here now?” I ask.
It’s Bobo who answers. “Kitwana trusts you. We need you to come with us and carry Kitwana to his family. He won’t go with anyone but you.”
“And what if we don’t find his family?” I say, half hoping.
“We know where they are,” says Kambale. “We have rangers watching them right now.”
Kitwana curls his fingers around my neck, sensing my fear. Now that I’ve found him, I don’t want to let him go. “Then when?” I ask. “When do we release him?”
“It is best to try as soon as possible,” says Kambale. “He will thrive better with his family.”
I look between Kambale and Bobo. “When?”
“Tomorrow,” says Bobo. “We release him tomorrow, in the forest, at dawn.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
It is time, Imara.”
When Bobo wakes me, I try to pull my blanket over my head and fall back into sleep. Kitwana is next to me, his body curled into mine. His breathing is slow and steady, and his fingers twitch in his sleep. I want to keep him next to me. He’s the missing part of me. I don’t want to let him go.
“Imara,” whispers Bobo, “it is time to go.”
I get dressed and wrap Kitwana in my blanket, carrying him with me to the waiting jeep. Kitwana half wakes as the jeep rumbles to life, then falls asleep again as he feels me next to him. It’s two hours until dawn. The night is absolute. The headlights shine out into the darkness, picking out the dirt road and the potholes sliding beneath us. We drive blindly through the night. We could be anywhere, anywhere at all.
Kambale speaks into the radio to the rangers in the forest who have been camped near the Tumaini group, and we stop on a forest track, an hour’s hike away.
I follow Bobo and the other rangers into the forest. I feel Kitwana shift in my arms, and although I can’t see him, I’m sure he’s awake, watching and listening. I feel his fingers cling to my arms. We move in the predawn darkness, with head flashlights lighting the way along a path cut by the rangers the day before. The path winds steeply up and up. I inhale the scent of the forest and feel the cool mist touching my bare shoulders. My muscles burn with tiredness, yet it feels good to be back here. It feels good to be alive.
The darkness melts and the sky above turns a deep leaf-patterned blue. We walk and walk, until the forest opens out onto a small clearing on a ridge. To one side lies the forest reaching upward toward the top of the mountain, and on the other, we have a view down across the rest of the forest, the dense canopy of leaves spreading across the land like a soft dark blanket. A pale mist clings to the treetops. In the east, beams of sunlight reach up from the horizon and the sky glows orange with the promised sun.
“Shh!” whispers Kambale from ahead. “We are here. Keep Kitwana out of sight until I say.”
I wrap the blanket around Kitwana, but I can’t help moving forward to see the gorillas. In the pale dawn light, I can see their dark shapes waking from their night’s sleep. Enzi is first to wake, hearing us arrive. He lifts his head and stares in our direction. Then he sits up, stretching his arms and he yawns, his lips peeling back to show huge canine teeth; teeth that could rip Kitwana apart.
The females begin to stir, pulling twigs and branches from their makeshift nests and chewing on the tough leaves.
Bobo nudges me and points to a gorilla a little way from the others, still curled in sleep. “That’s Kitwana’s mother.”
I hold Kitwana tightly against me and watch her. She’s not asleep. She’s lying with her eyes open, her arms curled around her chest as if holding onto the shape of something lost. She sits up and moves with a slow listlessness, keeping herself away from the others.
“She’s lost weight,” says Kambale. “She has not been the same since losing Kitwana and the silverback.”
Another female stirs.
“That’s Heri,” says Bobo. He stands up to get a better view. His eyes open wider and wider. “Kambale, why didn’t you tell me?”
Kambale chuckles and points to the tiny gorilla baby cradled in Heri’s arms. “I thought I would leave it a surprise for you. She had her baby gorilla girl two nights ago.”
I peer over Bobo’s shoulder and see the tiny baby feeding from her mother.
“I’m going to move a little closer,” says Kambale.
Bobo and I stand with the other rangers and watch Kambale step forward, making the low grunting noises to calm Enzi and let him know we are not a threat.
“The gorillas know Kambale,” whispers Bobo. “He and my father have been following this group for years. They are used to people. It is good, because the tourists are slowly returning to see the gorillas.”
Kambale gives a series of grunts. I feel Kitwana wriggle to look beyond me and I try to keep him out of sight. Kambale wants to assess the group first, but Kitwana tries to pull away from me. He sniffs the air and grasps my shoulders to look over at the gorilla group through the trees. I try to crouch to hide him, but Kitwana hoots and there is nothing I can do to stop him.
Enzi stiffens and looks in our direction.
Kitwana hoots again.
“Move back,” urges Kambale. He flaps his hands at me.
I move back into the forest but Enzi is alert, his mouth drawn into a tight pout. He moves toward us, and sta
nds with his body sideways to us, showing off his huge domed head and muscled back and arms.
Kambale is waving me back. “We must leave slowly,” he says in hushed whispers. “This is not good. Enzi has taken control. This may not be good for Kitwana.”
I move back, but Enzi is pushing his way through the vines.
Kambale shakes his head. “I have made a mistake.”
Bobo tries to stand between Enzi and me, shielding me from view, but Enzi will be too strong. Kambale has his rifle close, but I know he doesn’t want to use it.
“Back . . . back . . . back!” urges Kambale, but Enzi keeps coming, pushing his way through the vines toward us. The other gorillas are awake and watching from a distance, huddled in a group.
The rangers stand back and let him pass. Enzi sees Kitwana. He stops and sniffs the air. Kitwana hoots and tries to pull away from me, but I hold him close.
Enzi stands up tall and thumps his chest; the hollow pok-poks of his chest-beats echo in the forest.
“Put Kitwana down,” warns Kambale. “Walk away.”
“He’ll kill him,” I whisper.
“It is too dangerous for you to stay. Leave him,” warns Kambale.
But I won’t let Enzi kill him.
“Put him down,” orders Kambale.
Kitwana can sense the danger. He clutches me. I start backing away through the forest, but Enzi is coming. He pushes past the rangers, the vines snapping and cracking beneath his feet. I can smell the musty scent of his alarm.
“Imara, put Kitwana on the ground and leave him!” Kambale shouts in panic.
But I hold Kitwana and stand my ground.
Enzi rises up on his legs and beats his fists against his chest again. I glare up at him. He’s taller than me, almost twice as tall. I look him directly in the eye; I know it’s a challenge, but I won’t let Kitwana die.
Enzi drops to his arms and charges in full roar. It’s so fast. All I see is a blur of black, and his mouth wide open, his huge canines filling the space.
“Let go!” screams Bobo.