Amie in Africa Box Set 1

by Lucinda E Clarke

  “It must be Angelina! But where is she?” Just then she noticed a shadow behind the sofa, and hurrying over she peaked behind it. There, huddled into a small ball was Angelina, her thumb still in her mouth and clutching her blue rabbit.

  “Where have you been?” asked Amie. “What are you doing here?” though she had a pretty good idea why the child was hiding behind her sofa.

  “Come on out, you look very hungry. Do you want something to eat?”

  For several seconds Angelina stared at her with her large brown eyes and then she slowly nodded her head. Amie put her arms round the child and, lifting her up gently, carried her through to the kitchen.

  “I was so worried about you. I didn’t know where you’d gone. I thought you had run away and I’d never see you again.” Amie wasn’t sure if Angelina understood her, but she was rewarded with a wide smile, which grew even wider as Pretty put a bowl of maize porridge in front of her.

  “What has she told you, Pretty?” Amie asked as they watched Angelina wolf down the food so fast Amie was sure she was going to get a very bad tummy ache.

  “Nothing Madam.” Pretty didn’t sound very enthusiastic. “She very dirty Madam, she needs bath and clean hair.” Pretty sniffed and looked disapprovingly at the child.

  “Yes, she does,” agreed Amie, wondering where the new clothes she had bought Angelina had gone. The child was wearing the same torn dress she had on when Amie had first seen her nearly two years ago, only now it barely stretched across her tiny figure, and there were even more holes in it.

  As soon as Angelina had finished eating, Amie took her hand and led her into the bathroom.

  Angelina’s eyes opened wide as she watched the hot and cold water flow from the taps into the bath. She was even more fascinated when Amie squirted in liquid from a bottle which made lots of bubbles in the water.

  The trouble began when Amie tried to remove her dress and knickers. Angelina began to kick and scream, fighting Amie as hard as she could. Her face turned bright red and huge tears poured down her cheeks.

  “I’m not going to hurt you Angelina,” Amie tried to reassure her. “But we need to get you clean. Look,” she swished her hand around in the bubbles, “bath time is fun, and see, the water is nice and warm.”

  But still Angelina was not convinced, and in the end, it took both Amie and Pretty to practically force the child into the warm water and give her a gentle scrub. There were even more hysterics when they washed her hair, but having got this far, Amie was not about to give up. Angelina made so much noise even William lurked outside the bathroom window, called out to see if Madam was all right.

  Finally, the ordeal was over, and Amie lifted the sobbing child out of the water, and wrapped her in a large towel. She sat Angelina on her lap and rocked her backwards and forwards as she gently patted her dry. All the time she murmured to her, telling her she was clean and smelled so nice, and there was one spare dress she had bought for Angelina and had kept for a special occasion.

  Angelina then refused to leave the bathroom until she had watched every last bubble disappear down the plug hole. She even gave Amie a small smile as she gazed at the wonders of modern plumbing. It occurred to Amie she would also have to teach the child how to use the toilet and brush her teeth. So much we take for granted, she thought to herself, things these little ones know nothing about. There was definitely a tap at the orphanage, but no hot water, and there was a row of toilet ‘long drops’ the children seldom used, preferring to disappear off into the bush.

  Amie had just finished dressing Angelina, and was trying to tie a ribbon in her tight, frizzy hair when the bell rang at the gate. It was Diana, who stopped in amazement when she saw Angelina.

  “What is that child doing here!” she exclaimed as she perched on the edge of the bed.

  “She just turned up,” explained Amie. “Apparently William found her huddled by the gate post early this morning and she slipped into the garden before he could catch her. Pretty brought her inside. She was filthy and her clothes were in rags and she was near to starving. I’ve just given her a bath.”

  Diana smiled at Angelina and pulled a couple of faces which made the child giggle. “So, what now? You can’t keep her here you know.”

  “Well, what am I supposed to do?” asked Amie.

  “Take her back to the orphanage, of course,” said Diana.

  “But they don’t really care about her. When I asked Olive where she’d gone, she actually shrugged her shoulders and told me these little ones just come and go. If they want to stay, they do, and if they don’t, then they don’t. It’s perfectly obvious Angelina doesn’t want to stay there. The other children were very rough with her. She was so miserable.”

  Amie was not going to admit to Diana she felt partly to blame for the misery, since she had exacerbated Angelina’s problems by buying her new clothes, and the teddy bear. She had forgotten one of the golden rules that Diana had been so emphatic about when she first arrived. Don’t show any favouritism or you will create jealousy and do more harm than good. She now felt responsible for Angelina, for having made her bleak life even more unbearable. The least she could do now was try to improve her life.

  “Even Mrs Motswezi suggested I take her home as she seems so fond of me.”

  “She said much the same to me, but when you move on, then what happens?” asked Diana. “You can’t just pass her along like an ex-pat dog you know. This is a human life you’re playing with.”

  “I know,” agreed Amie miserably, “but maybe I can find a solution before then.”

  “If you’re thinking about going the adoption route, forget it,” continued Diana as they went through to the lounge for coffee. “One of the government ministers said the other day it was better for his people, that is, the Togodians, to live deprived lives, than be corrupted by western civilization and all its evils. He was absolutely positive about that. And what if Angelina’s mother turns up one day and wants her child back?”

  “I don’t think that’s very likely, do you?”

  “Well, no I don’t,” replied Diana, “it’s a chance in a million, but still a chance. You could be had up for kidnapping. You’re on shaky ground here, Amie.”

  Amie looked at Angelina who was happily amusing herself playing with the teaspoons on the coffee tray. What was she going to do? She made one more argument. “Mrs Motswezi said it would be better for Angelina to have a couple of years of a good standard of living, rather than none at all. So even if we had to leave her behind when we go ...” she paused, not sure how much of this conversation Angelina understood. They were talking about her as if she was a commodity to be bought and sold.

  “Maybe,” Diana nodded. “The best course of action would be to take her along to Spring Glen Primary and talk to the headmistress there. They have good affiliations with several of the local churches and they may be able to organize an adoption or a family who will take Angelina in.”

  Diana’s advice made good sense but it was going to be hard for Amie. Her heart ached for the little waif who knelt beside her on the floor tapping two spoons together. Never before had another human being showed such love and dependence upon her. Angelina’s eyes followed her everywhere, looking at her with such worship, it was difficult not to respond and love her too.

  “Yes, I could do that,” Amie replied. “But I’ll let her settle down for a couple of days first. I have no idea where she’s been, or what she’s suffered since she disappeared from the orphanage. I’ll give her a bit of time to relax, feed her up and …”

  “Hmm,” Diana was not convinced. Then she smiled. “I do see how hard it is. I’ve never seen such devotion from one of these little ones. They are very appealing but getting involved is a very dangerous road.”

  “Yes, I know,” replied Amie miserably. Was there no answer to the problem? Surely, she could work something out?

  11 A SHOOT AND TELLING TALES

  Several days passed. Amie did not socialize much but stayed close to ho
me, and spent hours playing with Angelina. She was a bright child, quick to learn, absorbing each new experience like a sponge. As she gained confidence, she grew more responsive, with little cries of delight in the shop when Amie replaced the child’s wardrobe with several new dresses, socks, shoes, underwear, a raincoat and toys. She also bought her another small suitcase, although Amie questioned her own motivation for this purchase. Was it to pack Angelina’s possessions for a return to England, or was it to send with her to the new home that one of the churches found for her? She pushed the thought to the back of her mind, and passed the money over the counter.

  Watching Angelina’s delight with all her new things, Amie tried to compare her response with that of her niece and nephew. Baby Jade was too small yet, but Dean? She had never seen him show such delight over new clothes, or even the extra special toys he had asked for at Christmas.

  It was impossible to put off the inevitable, and the following week, Amie took Angelina to Spring Glen Primary. The only similar aspect of this school, and the local one she and the other wives visited, was the chain link fencing around the exterior and the guard on the gates, who opened them as Amie’s Fiat approached.

  Spring Glen was the very best school in Apatu, so all the expatriates with young children sent them here, along with the local children from the government and ministerial families. Most of the teachers had been trained in England or America, and they followed a syllabus similar to that in most international schools.

  Once Amie had parked up, she noticed the well-tended lawns and flower beds. There was not a piece of rubbish in sight.

  While she sat in the secretary’s office waiting for the headmistress, she observed with wry amusement, that all the notices were spelt correctly, and school’s internal electricity supply was run by a generator outside, enabling the computers to function efficiently.

  Amie had seen Marian Edwards several times at the Club, but as they hadn’t attended the same dinner parties or moved in the same circles, she wasn’t quite sure what to expect. When she was shown into the Head’s office, Marian rose from her chair behind the desk and held out her hand in greeting. She was a slim, pleasant-looking woman in her late forties, with short, brown, curly hair, and a cheerful smile.

  “We’ve not really met properly before, but I’m surprised to learn you have a daughter! I didn’t realize you have children. Please sit down.”

  Amie perched on a chair on the other side of the desk, while Angelina, clutching Amie’s dress tightly, stood as close to her as possible, as if she would never let go. Amie was feeling very nervous and was not quite sure how to explain the rather unusual position she found herself in.

  “Well, it’s true I don’t have children of my own,” she began, “but I seemed to have acquired a local child, Angelina.”

  Marian Edwards looked at Angelina and frowned. “But that’s not allowed here as far as I know. Have you legally adopted her, or are you fostering or … what?”

  “No, it’s not official at all. You know a few of us visit one of the local schools and orphanages over in Tamara?” Marian nodded. “Well this little girl, took a liking to me.” Amie looked to see if she could read what the headmistress was thinking, but Marian gave nothing away.

  She stumbled on. “When I was unable to visit, Angelina disappeared from the school where she’d been sleeping in the orphans’ section. No one had seen her for two weeks, but what was so heart-breaking was they just didn’t seem to care.” Amie paused, she knew she was beginning to sound too dramatic. She took a deep breath. “No, maybe that’s not fair, but they didn’t seem too bothered by her disappearance. Then several days ago she turned up outside my house and now I don’t know what to do. I know what I would like to do, but I understand that’s not an option here.”

  “Any idea as to her background?” Marian Edwards asked.

  “All they told me at Tamara was that she was found outside the school fence just over two years ago and no one has asked about her since. They think she’s just another AIDS orphan.”

  “There are so many of them, and the numbers are growing. But you do realize we don’t have any boarding facilities here even if I could find a place for her. How old is Angelina now?”

  “That would also be a guess. I took her to the doctor for a check-up and he thought she might be around six or seven, although she’s small and undernourished for her age.”

  “What a tough life some of these little ones have,” Marian was sympathetic. “So, what do you want from us? How do you think we can help?”

  “I hoped that maybe I could enrol her here – of course I’ll pay her fees – while I follow up with any local churches to see if we can find her a good foster family. Would you know of a family?” It was only a vague hope that as headmistress, Marian Edwards knew many of the local families and could make enquiries. It had dawned on Amie that although she was living in Africa, she hadn’t actually mixed socially with any Africans at all. Her entertainment was centred around the Club and their various activities; the other expatriate families had become her extended family.

  “Look, I can find a place for her in our first-year class, that’s not a problem, but I am worried about her circumstances. There could be a big backlash on the school if it came to the attention of the officials in government departments. So, what I propose is we place her with a family first, and then we can offer her a permanent place. In the meantime, bring her in on a temporary basis, she probably has a lot of catching up to do, to reach the standard of the other children of her age.”

  Amie was disappointed. She’d hoped to enrol Angelina officially, and then go to buy her school uniform, a lunch box and all the other necessary accoutrements. But a temporary place was better than nothing.

  Obviously, the first step was to get Angelina settled with a Togodian family. Then Amie needed to get a firm grip on herself and her sentimentality. The longer they were together, the fonder she grew of the child, but common sense told her it would be impossible to adopt Angelina officially. Maybe she might think differently if she had children of her own? But she didn’t think so. She and Jonathon had talked that over at length, and decided to wait a few more years. There was so much to cope with in a new county; having children now, would be a complication neither of them was ready for.

  Just as Amie reached the gate to her house, she saw William, heaping gardening rubbish in a big pile on the grass verge. He came over and handed Amie an envelope. It may have been clean and white once, but now it was crumpled, covered in dust and William’s dirty fingerprints.

  “Where did this come from?” she asked him.

  William did not look happy. “Man in army vehicle gave for the Madam,” he mumbled looking at the ground. His body language told Amie he did not approve. Locals avoided any kind of authority as much as was humanly possible. What was his Madam doing, getting involved with government and army people? Did she not know how unwise that was?

  Amie drove her car into the car port and sat for a moment while she looked at the envelope. She was tempted to tear it up and pretend she hadn’t received it, but maybe that would get William into trouble, and wouldn’t be fair on him.

  She opened the envelope and took out the single sheet of paper. As she’d suspected it was on official government paper and it was from Colonel Mbanzi. It ordered her to report to his office the next morning with all her video equipment. He would send a car for her. There was no please or thank you, or enquiry as to whether she was free; basically, just a demand to be available on government orders.

  Enough is enough, thought Amie. They don’t pay me, unless I can accept that they are facilitating the work on the desalination plant. Jonathon had mentioned he couldn’t believe the speed at which the project was moving forward. There was never any delay in passing plans or obtaining permissions, and each morning all the workers were there on time working with hardly a break. He was the envy of all the other contractors working in and around the capital. He was happy to take full credit for hi
s achievements, but secretly, Amie was convinced it was her cooperation with her camera that was smoothing the path. Like all intelligent wives, she didn’t breathe a word.

  But this was getting too much. It was bad enough trying to fabricate sheer propaganda, but the last shoot out in the bush had shaken her badly. She still woke in the middle of the night sweating, when she recalled the mutilated bodies, the smell of blood, and the heart wrenching sight of small children, murdered before they’d had a chance to live.

  Amie decided she didn’t have an option. Doing as Colonel Mbanzi asked, made life a lot easier for everyone – everyone that is, except herself. What did they want her to film this time?

  The following day’s trip was just as bad as the previous one. This time Amie reckoned they didn’t travel as far to the scene of even more carnage. It must have been an ambush, she thought as the camera rolled. There were no huts or buildings, but several bodies lay scattered around the bush. To her relief, she noticed no children seemed to be involved this time and the dead were young boys, soldiers maybe in their twenties. Most wore combat trousers and shirts, though there was a wide variety of colours and styles, and while some had what looked like army boots, others had been wearing shoes; in one case only a pair of flip flops.

  It was a sad, desolate scene, but the government men who had accompanied Amie and Ben, seemed quite immune to the slaughter. They joked as they rifled through pockets and removed the better pieces of clothing that had not been destroyed by bullets. They showed no respect for the dead as they rolled the bodies over with their feet to make sure they left nothing of value behind. Then they lounged against the vehicles, lit cigarettes and chewed gum, while Amie completed her grisly task.

  “Aren’t they going to bury them?” she whispered to Ben, but he only shrugged his shoulders in reply.