The Other Side of Truth Page 12
Where the water rules, the land submits.
But she was on her own. Just like the child on the book cover, looking into the mirror and a face cracked into a thousand pieces. That lonely terror was hers too. There was only one thing to do. However hurt she was by Femi shouting at her, shutting her out, he was still her little brother. Hadn’t Mama and Papa always expected more of her because she was older? If she didn’t do what Marcia wanted and Marcia’s cousin beat Femi up, she would be to blame. She had to steal the turquoise lighter so Femi would not be harmed. Perhaps then they would leave her alone. Once she had proved herself, what more could they want?
After the final bell, Mariam seemed anxious to say something to Sade before going up to the library.
“I don’t tell about my—my family to everyone. But you are my friend, OK?”
Mariam’s eyes searched Sade’s face for a response. They were timid yet strangely brave. At any other time, Sade would have felt good that Mariam had trusted her. This afternoon it made her feel worse.
“It’s OK,” she said, almost curtly. “I have to go. See you tomorrow.” She tried to smile but was actually pressing her lips together to cover her agitation.
Marcia and Donna had indicated that Sade was to go into the shop by herself. Now all she wanted was to get the thing over and done with. She squeezed through the crowd of students at the bus stop and hurried down the main road. This time she took in the petrol station and the row of shops on her left. Through the windows she could see how small they were inside. No hiding places where you wouldn’t be seen by the shopkeeper. She had no idea where she would find the cigarette lighters in the corner shop. They might even be in a locked cabinet. What if Marcia knew that all along and she was being set up, once again, for a trick? Perhaps she wasn’t meant to succeed and Marcia was just out to grind her underfoot. Sade’s heart was now juddering so fiercely, she was sure that anyone behind the counter—Mariam’s uncle or her mother?—would be suspicious.
The full seriousness of what she was about to do suddenly hit her. What if she was caught stealing? The police would be called. Of course, that’s what Marcia wanted! And then how would she and Femi ever get permission to stay here in England? All that asylum business with Mr. Nathan would be for nothing. The Immigration people would say she was a thief. And when Papa came, they would say they didn’t want someone whose daughter was a thief! How stupid she was, falling right into Marcia’s trap.
Sade stood at the junction with the corner shop just down the road. No, she was not going in there. She turned swiftly back along the main road. But before she could go anywhere, she found herself being rapidly swung around. Once again, Marcia and Donna grabbed her by the arms and within seconds were jogging her down the side road. The only other people walking in the dismal street were over in the next block, too far away to see. Even if they had been near by, they would probably have thought it was all a game.
“Thought you’d change your mind, did you? Chicken?” Marcia panted.
“Marcie and me have come to give you a hand. Thought you might be a bit nervous as it’s your first time,” Donna quipped.
They stopped a short way from the corner shop. Briefly Marcia explained, in a subdued voice, that she would distract the shopkeeper by buying something while Sade took the lighter from a shelf on the right-hand side. Sade would have to be quick. If there was a second person behind the counter, Donna would keep her busy.
“Nicking is easy,” giggled Donna. “Anyone can do it.”
Passing underneath the blue sign with the words DAUD’S STORE in neat black letters, the pounding in Sade’s heart froze. A tall, gaunt woman wearing a headscarf surveyed the three of them from a door leading to the back of the shop. She had high cheekbones and Mariam’s eyes. She stood with a quiet dignity. A man in a white cap and tunic was stacking papers in front of the counter. Marcia asked loudly if he could show her what kind of posh chocolates he sold because it was her mum’s birthday. Donna made her way to the counter and began running her fingers along the rows of sweets. Sade saw the lady’s eyes follow suit. Sade turned away, forcing herself to scan the rows of shelves to her right. Notepads, pens, scissors, sticking tape, all sorts of little gadgets and, closest to the counter, a small tray of cigarette lighters. Blue, red, silver, green, but no turquoise. She heard Marcia asking Mariam’s uncle to bring down a large box of chocolates from the top shelf and Mariam’s mother helped with a stool to reach up for it. Sade slipped her right hand into the tray and quickly lifted up the lighters. A turquoise one lay beneath. She clutched it silently, removed her hand and slid it into her anorak pocket on the side away from the counter. Stiffly she turned to the others.
“Nah! Not big enough!” Marcia was shaking her head. “Don’t think my mum actually wants chocolates, anyway. She’s on a diet, see. Maybe I’ll get her some next year! Come on, Donna, let’s go!”
Sade saw the look of momentary surprise in both adults’ eyes. They exchanged a glance of being caught off guard, then both shifted their gaze to her. Without saying anything, Sade turned to the door. Had they seen the guilt written all over her face?
As soon as they passed beyond the window of Daud’s Store, Sade thrust the lighter into Marcia’s hand and ran.
“Ooh, temper!” she heard Donna remark. Sade kept running, gripping her rucksack to control its bouncing. She desperately hoped Mariam would still be in the library and wouldn’t see her. But Mariam’s mother and uncle would be bound to describe the three girls in Avon uniform who had come into the shop. They had probably checked to see if anything was missing near where she had been standing. Did they know exactly how many lighters should be in the tray? She began puffing for breath. That final look in the faces of Mariam’s mother and uncle and their grave silence cut her to the bone.
That evening, when Sade said she had a headache and wasn’t hungry, Aunt Gracie was concerned. If Sade felt the same in the morning, she might need to see the doctor. Sade went to bed early and Aunt Gracie came up to check on her. Femi also slipped in to give her one of his comics. He didn’t talk much, but it was his way of saying sorry. How could she tell him that she had done something a hundred times worse to people who were refugees just like them? There was no escape from the disgust she felt at herself. She had only asked Mariam about her family to find out about her uncle and his shop so that she could steal from him. And after Mariam had told her story so simply in halting English, but in words that painted such terrible pictures, Sade had shut down her mind. But now the shutter had lifted and Mariam’s words and pictures were burningly clear.
CHAPTER 27
MARIAM’S STORY
FOUR SOLDIERS CAME to Mariam’s house on her birthday. She was just five. Her mama had made her a cake and she was very happy, playing outside with her friends. One soldier asked, “Is Father in?” She was frightened and wanted to scream, but her voice was dead. Then her mama came to the door and cried, “What do you want?” But they pushed her away. There was no time for her father to hide. The soldiers pulled him from the house. All the children were crying. Her father was calling, “No, no. Let me walk. I will come with you. I don’t want my children to see any fighting.” The soldiers shouted, “You are a dog, not a man. You have been helping the rebels. We know you give them milk from your sheep.” Her mother was crying. “No, no. Where are you taking him?” They said, “You will see later.” That was the last time Mariam saw her father.
It was President Barre who sent the soldiers. Then the president sent his airplanes. They dropped bombs all over Hargeisa, the town where Mariam lived. A bomb fell on their house and the roof and one wall broke down. Mariam’s neighbor took them in. They went to sleep on the floor underneath the beds. They kept their clothes on so they could run if they had to. Later the soldiers came back. This time they were setting fire to houses and shooting. Bullets were flying around like bees. The soldiers were killing men and boys right in front of their families. They said they were looking for rebels. The bodies were l
eft in the street because people were too frightened to bury them. The soldiers said ten-year-old boys were helping the rebels. Mariam’s mama said they must leave immediately because if the soldiers found Hassan, he would be killed. Hassan was Mariam’s brother and he was ten.
Most of the men and older boys who were still alive ran away to fight. Her mama said they should go to Kenya. She told Mariam and Hassan, “It is far but we shall be safe there.” People were leaving the town like water from a tap that cannot be turned off. They were mostly old people, women and children. They had to walk. Soon their legs were swollen and they were burning from the sun. After two days they started walking at night because the soldiers made roadblocks in the day. At night they heard lions roaring, but they were more frightened of the soldiers. Sometimes they passed bodies piled up at the side of the road. The smell was horrible and their mother told them, “Don’t look!” But Mariam peeped through her fingers. She wished she had listened to her mama.
It seemed as if there was no end to their journey. Mariam thought her legs would drop off. Then her brother Hassan managed to buy a donkey in a village and the younger children took turns in riding it. Mariam’s mama said that Hassan was now the man of the family. After some more days and nights, Mariam’s mama became very ill. The pain was so bad they had to stop. Her dress was covered in blood around her legs. Some women came to help her and Mariam became scared that her mama was going to die. Later a woman told Mariam, “Your mother will be all right, but the baby is dead.” She did not even know that her mother was going to have a baby. Hassan made a small hole in the dry ground. He tried to dig it deep so the animals could not get to it but the earth was hard and dry. Mariam did not know if the dead baby was a little sister or brother. She only saw a tiny bundle of cloth that was placed in the hole. Hassan covered it with dry sand.
After many days they reached Mogadishu. It was a very big place, the capital of their country. But they did not know anyone there. Mogadishu people were amazed how far they had walked. All the way across Somalia! Some Mogadishu people gave them food and told them how to find the harbor and the boats that would take them to Kenya. The boat was really frightening. Hundreds of people were packed into one small boat as if they were fish in a net. When their drinking water was finished, they almost died. One night there was a storm and the waves crashed over them. People were crying and praying because they believed they were going to drown. They were trapped in the boat for fifteen days.
The sun was rising when their boat sailed into Mombasa. They had come all the way safely to Kenya. Now people were crying and praying thanks to Allah. But when they saw soldiers by the harbor, they became quiet again. They were frightened because they had run away from soldiers. But these soldiers helped them onto trucks. They did not have to walk anymore. Their bones were aching as the trucks bumped over the roads, but they were happy to be back on land.
They reached the refugee camp at sunset. They had never seen anything like it. There were homes made out of tents and plastic sheets as far as their eyes could see. Smoke was rising everywhere from little fires. People were cooking food for the night. It looked such a strange place. Mariam cried because it was so different from their home in Hargeisa, but her mama said they were lucky to be there alive.
Mariam and her family stayed in the refugee camp for nearly six years. It was very hard, but the most terrible thing was not knowing what had happened to her father. They heard that President Barre had fled from their country but the fighting was still going on. When Mariam was eleven years old, the news began to get a little better. Her mama began to make plans to go home. Then a letter arrived that changed their lives again. It was from her father’s brother in London. Charity workers had helped him find them. But he had very bad news for them. Their father had died in prison. So her uncle wanted them to come and live with him in London. He owned a small shop and he was going to look after them. He was going to work hard to get the right papers for them and then he was going to come for them. Mariam’s mama agreed to his plan. She said it would give her children a chance. But when her uncle arrived, Mariam’s brother Hassan refused to come to London. He said he was going back to their home in Hargeisa. He wanted to live in Somalia and he wanted to find out for himself what had happened to their father. Her mama had begged him not to go. It was still not safe. Their home had been bombed. Nothing would be left of it now. He was only sixteen. They had not heard from him since that day.
CHAPTER 28
A GUARDIAN ANGEL
SADE’S SLEEP WAS TROUBLED and her nightmare about Mama was even more distorted. Not only was Marcia there pointing at her as she crouched beside Mama’s body, but this time Marcia accused her.
“It’s your fault, little liar!”
But when the embroidered bedspread with its crimson stain was pulled back, Mama wasn’t there. Instead a baby girl with Mariam’s eyes stared lifelessly up at her.
In the morning Aunt Gracie took Sade’s temperature. It was above normal and Aunt Gracie declared that she should stay in the house.
“It may just be a touch of flu, you know, but you don’t look right to me, mi dear.”
But when Femi complained he also wasn’t feeling well, Aunt Gracie said that she was sure he would be all right once he got to school. Just as Femi seemed ready to dig his heels in, the telephone rang. It was Mama Appiah wanting to talk to them about something important. On hearing that Sade would be at home, Mama Appiah said she would call in during the morning. Femi arched his eyebrows like two bows drawn and ready to fire. But Aunt Gracie disarmed him first.
“Well, Femi, it looks like you should stay! Mrs. Appiah wants to see you both,” she said.
Although her brother didn’t exactly smile, Sade recognized his little look of victory.
Questions raced through Sade’s head as she pulled on her tracksuit. Had the Immigration people found something wrong? Or was there news of Uncle Dele? It must be something urgent or Mama Appiah would have waited until her visit at the end of the week. But just as she was coming down the stairs, her stomach suddenly seemed to lurch beneath her. Mama Appiah had heard about her stealing the lighter! Mariam’s uncle must have realized what was missing and they had worked out it was her. Mariam must have seen her after all! Then her uncle must have gone to the police, who contacted the social workers. Iyawo-Jenny had told Mama Appiah. All these people knew she was a thief! Halfway down the stairs, Sade wheeled around and scuttled back up toward her bedroom. She pushed past Femi on the landing. She slammed her door behind her. Fully clothed, she dived back into bed, burying herself deep under the quilt.
A couple of hours later, Sade sat with arms tightly folded next to Mama Appiah. Femi sat on a separate little stool. From fingertips to toes, Sade tingled with cold. The orange-blue tongues that flickered up from the gas fire that looked like coals made no difference at all. She listened to Mama Appiah agree with Aunt Gracie that “Sade doesn’t seem right” and stared dully at the dancing patterns of light as Mama Appiah asked Uncle Roy and Aunt Gracie to stay in the sitting room. They too had to know that she was a thief.
“Tell me,” Mama Appiah began. Sade’s head curled inward, like a snail that has lost its shell. Mama Appiah and the Kings had no need to prod her. Her guilt was plain to see.
“Tell me,” Mama Appiah repeated, “Sade and Femi, do you know Mr. Folarin Solaja?”
Sade’s head shot up and Femi’s eyes widened.
“Papa!” he cried.
Mama Appiah’s eyes traveled gravely from Femi to Sade. The little bird-tails at the end of her kingfisher-blue gele shimmered, waiting. Sade’s hand covered her mouth.
“He…he is our father!” The words squeezed through Sade’s fingers.
“Well, truly there must be a guardian angel looking after you!” The bird-tails bobbed. “With your names Sade and Femi Adewale, your father might never have found you!”
It seemed unbelievable. Papa was already here in England! Mama Appiah had actually met him! He had told her
his story. Their story. How his wife had been shot at their home in Lagos and he had sent his two children immediately to London. His younger brother was meant to take care of them. But by the time he had realized that his brother Dele was missing, the children had already been sent. He was frantically worried. He had no idea where his children were, who they were with and whether they were safe. Their names were Sade and Femi.
Sade bit her thumb so hard, it pained. But where was Papa? Why hadn’t Mama Appiah brought him with her? Then the full story hit her. Yes, Papa was here, in England, but he was in detention. In prison! Femi’s eyes, which had momentarily lit up, were now awash with tears. Papa had attempted to come into the country with the false passport he had to use to escape! He had been so worried about his children that all he wanted to do was to find them before asking the government for political asylum.
“I’m afraid your daddy didn’t know the rules,” Mama Appiah explained. “You have to tell your story—ask for asylum—the moment you arrive. If someone uses a false passport first and the immigration officers then find them out, it’s too late. They won’t believe their real story.”
Sade was stunned. The immigration officers thought Papa was a liar!
The truth is the truth. How can I write what’s untrue?
Papa, who always believed in telling the truth, had kept quiet. Until it was too late. Because he had been frantic to find his children.
Aunt Gracie slipped quietly on to the settee. She wrapped her arm around Sade, who was trembling. Femi hunched himself into a taut little figure on his stool. He had been fiercely trying to wipe his tears away.