Sahara

by Oscar Luis Rigiroli

  “We have to assume the worst possible scenario and assume that they come for us...” Haroun continued.”... and put our troops and our clan on maximum alert.”

  The conclave had a brief discussion and finally all members accepted the Haroun´s position and began to plan its implementation. Each of those present should take the necessary preventions in their ample circle of relationships to implement what had been agreed.

  That afternoon Ousmar showed up in Zoubaida´s house and got together with his two daughters and his son-in-law.

  “Cristian, have you commented with your family what agreed this morning in the tent?” He demanded, not as a relative but as a military commander.

  “No, Sir, I did not want to alarm prematurely to Zoubaida and Charfadine, until you give the order to announce it in the entire village.”

  Ousmar made a brief summary of the communication of the French and the decisions taken. As he ended Ousmar addressed directly Cristian.

  “Cristian, you are responsible for the fate of my daughters and grandson, and with them of the future of our clan. You have to devise in advance a plan for the evacuation of your family and put it into practice when the time comes, what will unfortunately be rather sooner than later.”

  Charfadine began to cry silently, while Zoubaida reacted strongly.

  “I'll never agree to leave my parents and my people at moments of danger.”

  Ousmar proudly smiled and kissed her daughter on the forehead.

  “No, I'm not asking it as a parent, Zoubaida, I'm ordering it as your boss.”

  There was a long discussion in dialect between the father and his daughters that escaped to the understanding of Cristian. When it waned, Zoubaida translated it.

  “We have agreed to evacuate. We've added to my mother among those who will be evacuated. She will be opposed to leave her husband, but my father will force her as he did with us.”

  “Do you remember Yusuff?” Asked Ousmar to Cristian referring to his personal bodyguard, who had accompanied Ousmar and him them on the trade mission.

  The young man nodded with a shudder, recalling the fierce character which had finished off the two fallen aggressors.

  “I will put him at your service, accountable to me with his head for your safety. In short, you Cristian will organize the evacuation of my family and look for a safe destination, and Yusuff will look after your backs.”

  The appointed companion produced mixed reactions; Zoubaida was glad because she knew the courage and the loyalty of the man towards his father, Charfadine tried to hide her fear and rejection that the character, somewhat sinister caused her, while Cristian, although also Yusuff caused him concern, based on his previous experience celebrated having him taking care of their backs.

  Ousmar made available to Cristian a previously unknown and ancient Land Rover with three rows of seats that could therefore accommodate six adult travelers and some luggage. The vehicle had two additional fuel tanks attached to its rear door, and a luggage rack in its broad ceiling, allowing the passengers to load some personal effects if necessary. The four wheels were relatively new while the extra tire was quite worn. In short it deserved Cristian´s approval who took a drive test around the village.

  The two women began to prepare the luggage they would need in case of a sudden evacuation of which the young man rejected more than half for exceeding the load capacity of the automotive. Souady brought her bags to her daughter’s home, to have them ready if necessary. An atmosphere of emergency dyed all the preparations.

  Ousmar endowed them with one of the precious equipment of communications with its batteries, and maps of the region. Haroun was present and reviewed with Cristian the exit plan and observed the dedicated elements, expressing his approval.

  “I see that you have good organization skills.” Said the warrior in a rare compliment to Cristian. “Much will depend on this condition and your ability to improvise.”

  “Should the need for escape arise.” Answered the young man.

  “Cristian.” Said the warrior in a bitter tone. “The problem is not if it arises but when.”

  Then he indicated on the map the route of flight, heading Southeast towards Cameroon.

  “Remember Hassan?” Asked.

  “The old desert rascal friend of yours?

  “That man, as he has scented the danger and has migrated south and has established there, on your escape route.” Haroun pointed a spot in the map. “He will be waiting with supplies and fuel. He will give you your contacts from there on.”

  Cristian, initially overwhelmed by the responsibility to take care of all his loved ones in particularly difficult circumstances, was soothing as he saw the progress of the preparations.

  That night Cristian entered the bedroom he shared with Zoubaida, who was already in bed and was preparing to go to bed.

  “Wait.” Said his wife in imperative tone. “Charfadine is alone in her room and is she very scared. Stay with her.”

  Without saying a word the young man did as directed. Opening the door he saw that the girl was sitting in bed with her eyes wiped in tears. Always in silence, Cristian removed her footwear, kissed her feet, took her negligee out leaving her beautiful naked body; then he lay down beside her, and began to stroke her gently until the young woman got asleep. Her gesture had changed and a smile emerged on their lips, who know out of what dreams.

  Without making any noise, Cristian returned to the bedroom with Zoubaida, who was waiting for him awake and naked. When he lay also naked on the bed, she swirled around her husband.

  “Love me desperately.” She said “We do not know what is to come, or when or where we will be able to do it again.”

  After Zoubaida got also asleep exhausted of pleasure, Cristian could not help thinking of her attitude of sending him to calm her little sister before meeting her own needs. As it happened once and again a sense of pride and admiration for his wife travelled through his body, and he also slept.

  The next morning heavy knocks on the house door woke up the women and Cristian. This stood up bare-chested to open. Yusuff appeared at the door and with unflappable tone said.

  “They are coming Be prepared immediately.” In a gesture practiced mentally before, Cristian collected the suitcases and placed them on the roof of the truck, tied them up and covered with canvas to keep out the dust from roads. Zoubaida finished breast-feeding the child while Charfadine brought their staff.

  Cristian mounted in the vehicle and drove to his in-laws to pick up Souady. She was already in the House door saying goodbye to her husband with her face flooded in tears. Cristian also loaded her suitcases on the roof, while the Lady put in the cabin food that she had prepared for the trip.

  Uncertain of how to proceed the boy approached his father-in-law. This unexpectedly took him in his arms and shook him.“I trust my family to you. Take care of them. My blessings upon you.” Strong emotions cut his breath but he continued. “Go now! I have to take care of the defense of my people.”

  Cristian returned home with Souady on board, there were waiting Charfadine and Zoubaida with the small Hubert in arms. The man observed his young wife looking desperately through the rear window of the vehicle, seeing as all that knew and loved was left behind. Zoubaida had her sight fixed forward, as Souady wept in silence. Passing through an intersection he saw Haroun who greeted them with his hand. Cristian made a gesture to stop but his friend urged him to continue driving. At the exit of the village Yusuff waited with his rifle and a backpack for all baggage. Cristian stopped the car, and the man threw the backpack over the ceiling and came up through the back door, between the numerous junk.

  In a bend as he was driving with all the speed that the old vehicle was capable of the young looked out of the corner of the eye to the town where he had lived the last year, where he had married and where his son was born, and that now lay already inexorably behind. With a sigh he straightened the car toward their uncertain fate.

  CHAPTER 14

 
; Cristian led by badly drawn paths that ran through the last stretches of semi-deserted area of the Sahel, which was imperceptibly turning into the African savannahs. The population density was increasing gradually as the dryness of the landscape gave rise to a higher fertility. Herds of goats and some heads of cattle were grazing around isolated huts, clustering later in small villages.

  They entered an area of rolling hills covered with grasses, which at times gained in height. Zoubaida, Charfadine, Souady and Hubert slept, relaxed once the stress caused by the abrupt departure was over. Only Yusuff remained alert exchanging some words with Cristian, to ensure that the driver was not defeated by the drowsiness.

  Where had emerged the mounted figures from they never found out. Yusuff shouted abruptly waking up the women and startling the driver.

  “There, on the left! Five gunmen.” Immediately he cocked the rifle and poked it through the vehicle window, which he had just opened.

  Cristian looked with the corner of his eye, and saw indeed five men mounted on horses and wielding rifles; clearly distinguished that they were approaching and one of them pointed them with his weapon.

  The first shot passed above the truck but the following came one after the other. The glass of a window was shattered, and pieces of glass rained down on the women who were sitting in the second row of seats. Charfadine yelled desperate while her mother covered her terrified face. Zoubaida, who squeezed his son against her breast, found the forces to caress her sister head as she spoke gently to comfort her. Cristian accelerated while he drove along a non-linear path to offer an elusive target. Yusuff tried to fire but the crazy rattle of the Land Rover and the horsemen galloping wouldn't let he take aim. The vehicle approached at full speed that the old engine could give a narrow gorge between two high cliffs while the riders galloped after them. Suddenly, a man armed with a rifle pointing them emerged at one side of the gorge. Again, Cristian reacted under pressure instantly. With a steering wheel coup he pulled the van out of its course and headed it straight towards the rock wall where the attacker was waiting for them. When he saw the danger coming over him he tried to escape, but the rock did not provide the chance of pulling back. The impact of the car at full speed threw the body crushed by air falling then on the vehicle roof with a terrifying noise. At the last moment with other steering coup in the opposite direction Cristian drove the vehicle back on the road without being able to completely dodge the granite wall, which damaged the rear right side. The damaged car moved in an erratic way scaring women travelling in it. Cristian looked back by the rear view mirror and found that riders were still in pursuit of them, ever closer. At a bend in the road where Cristian had to slow down, Yusuff opened the rear door of the automotive and threw himself on the hard stones from the ground. Looking back through the mirror Cristian saw the brave tribesman beckoning him to continue driving, and then sheltering behind a rock. After a moment of hesitation he decided to continue in order not to compromise the safety of his family and then return to try to help their comrade in his desperate quest. Shots were heard, accounting for the furious battle that unfolded behind them in spite of the distance the truck was travelling. All were paying attention to the fighting sounds until they ceased completely. Charfadine issued a moan; Souady shook her head while Zoubaida looked down. Cristian whispered a prayer for their brave defender but kept stepping on the accelerator increasing the distance which separated them from their persecutors.

  After five hours of silent and sorry travel they approached the point where Hassan was supposed to be waiting for them according to the instructions given by Haroun.

  There, they got out of the van to get lunch, under the shadow of an extendable awning which the Land Rover had attached to its roof. The heat was stifling, given the hour and the fact that they were heading towards the Ecuador course. The lunch was silent and full of sorrow. To the uncertainty about the fate of the village and the loved ones added the certainty of what happened with his courageous advocate Yusuff, who sacrificed his life to give them chances to escape. Zoubaida changed and breastfed her son and all prepared to wait for Hassan, begging that the old man did not fail to appear.

  It was mid-afternoon when the inhabitant of the desert- turned into sedentary villager of savannahs- showed up. He asked about Yusuff, whom he certainly knew by their raids through the endless Sahara dunes, and was saddened to learn of his fate.

  They accompanied him to his house, indeed little more than the tent in which he lived in the Sahara; there the man handed them over the food, water and fuel at the price agreed with Haroun. Finally, he instructed Zoubaida and Cristian about the course to follow through the southeast of Chad and Cameroon until they reached the position of their following contact, already in the territory of the latter country.

  Cristian tried in vain call by radio the command center that had been established in the village, which increased the shocked climate of the travelers. Only Zoubaida and Cristian tried to cope with the uncertainty with a somewhat artificial zest.

  “We have not run so many dangers to die on the road.” Zoubaida said with a conviction that she actually didn't feel, while she supported her left on the shoulder of her sister, while on the right she held Hubert. Cristian watched them from a distance while he tried to straighten out the battered side of the Land Rover with the help of Hassan. Again he felt admiration for the woman who in the midst of uncertainty had resources to encourage her peers. No doubt, the blood of his father flowed in Zoubaida´s veins and her attitudes showed her leadership conditions in each desperate condition.

  Approximately at four o'clock in the afternoon they resumed the journey, having eluded the warmer hours of the torrid day seeking to harness the remaining hours of daylight.

  Journey through Cameroon lasted fourteen hours divided into three stages. They stopped wherever they could get minimum guarantees of hygiene and comfort, particularly taking into account that they had to take care of the child.

  They finally arrived at the port of Douala, where they stayed in a hotel that gave them some comfort. There Souady and Zoubaida made contact with Chadians of his same ethnicity residing in Cameroon from years, in order to obtain news of the events in Chad and arrange a ship travel heading to Europe for the whole family.

  The two women became worried about the news had been received of compatriots. Chad was plunged into war and confusion. Arab and Islamized groups had made a deep incursion into the territories of the Sahel and the plain to the South of it, destroying villages, killing and looting. The resistance of the inhabitants had been tenacious, desperate and surprisingly organized, so that the fierce fighting had yielded hundreds and perhaps thousands of dead including many raiders, and displaced persons were counted by tens or hundreds of thousands. There was no concrete news of people or individual villages which kept women in the uncertainty.

  For the sea travel local Chadians had put them in contact with the captain of a ship with Liberian flag, which was departing towards Marseille in two days, as soon it completed its load of cotton fiber; the freighter had two cabins for passengers, who were free. The captain named Sarckys was a sullen subject, but Chadians reputed him as reliable.

  Once arrived in Marseille, they crossed the migration area without problems, since the three women had French passports and had papers that proved the paternity of Hubert. As for Cristian he held his Argentine passport with a French visa obtained at the Consulate in N'Djamena.

  During the stay for a couple of days in Marseille they were contacted by members of their ethnic group resident in Paris, which got them accommodation in the French capital.

  While Souady and Charfadine remained with the child in the hotel, Zoubaida and Cristian went to the small office that Chadians had rented.

  There the director of the place, which was a mixture of commercial office with the Central Africa refugee centre, introduced himself ceremoniously.

  “I am Monsieur Yannick, I have had the honor to meet your father Chief Ousmar Djalali and we have had
frequent contacts and even trade.” He paused while a beautiful African employee served coffee. “I have already put my contacts in our homeland -or what remains of those contacts- in search of news about Mr. Djalali and your village. The current situation in Central Chad is very unclear and we know that there are masses of refugees moving in all directions, towards Niger, Nigeria, Cameroon, the Central African Republic and Sudan. Apparently they are hundreds of thousands of people and it wills a take long time to get lists with names and when we get them they are likely to be incomplete.” He stopped and handed to Zoubaida a block of paper and a pen. “Please let me have a list with the names of the persons that of particular interest to you in order to track them as a priority. Please come and see me again in four days. Anyway, just in case there is any news before let me have the telephone number of your hotel and I'll call you.”

  Once accomplished their task, Zoubaida and Cristian went out to explore the nearby quarter of Montmartre. As soon as they started walking, the romantic ambiance of the neighborhood engulfed them while they roamed its wavy streets, populated by Bohemian Paris dwellers and indeed global visitors. They stood in one the posts of street performers, and Cristian asked one of them to perform a more than acceptable portrait of his wife. They stopped at one of the sidewalks cafes and sat on a table, from where they observed the passage of pedestrians, some busy and others strolling, including many tourists.

  Concerns that had chagrined them in recent weeks yielded momentarily to a feeling of bonheur. They were well aware that when returning to their hotel their reality would be present again, but their nervous systems and their souls desperately needed that haven to go ahead.

  “There is no city in the world comparable with Paris.” Exclaimed indeed Zoubaida, overcoming for a moment the tension that had invaded her body and mind after their haphazard escape from Chad. “Not even New York, nor by far.”

  Cristian, who had not been before in the city was delighted with this tour inadvertently intercalated in their escape plan. Hand in hand they wandered aimlessly through the area as two boyfriends until the shadows began to fall, and Zoubaida recalled that she had to feed Hubert.