Ben grabbed Amie’s shoulders and gave her a hard shake. “They would grow up one day and become dangerous men.” Then, seeing her expression, he added, “that is the reasoning behind it. I need help from Dirk and his men and you can persuade him. Now I have some hope. I knew he was hiding out here somewhere.”
“But how? I don’t understand …” Amie was puzzled, “we’re not hiding out as such, simply keeping a low profile until things settle down between the warring factions. We’re still on Dirk’s land and while the troops were running high on blood lust it was best to keep out of the way. It’s as simple as that, lying low.” As pictures of the still-burning orphanage and all the fighting and killing she’d seen flashed into her consciousness, she took a deep breath. She wasn’t going to break down now and blubber like a baby in front of Ben.
Ben dropped his hands and sighed. “You are the only ones who can help. Would you believe me if I told you the Kawa did not burn down the orphanage? We were only fighting the M’untu. We were going to share the new wealth with all the tribes when they brought out the oil deep below their tribal lands. When their chiefs would not even talk to our government, there was nothing we could do. And then they made war on us and now everyone is suffering. They do not know how to run a country. Many governments will not even recognize them and the oil, and other minerals which would bring wealth to many is still there under the ground.”
“Always the African way,” Amie said bitterly. “If you can’t get what you want, you fight, and who cares who’s caught in the middle?”
“And I suppose it is so different where you come from?” Ben asked sarcastically.
“Yes, of course, we discuss things, work out arrangements, come to an agreement in a civilized manner,” replied Amie.
“So, the big wars in Europe I learned about in my history lessons at school did not happen? With millions killed?”
Amie felt ashamed. Who was she to judge? Ben was right. Was it so very different in any part of the world?
“If the Kawas didn’t burn down the orphanage, who did?” she asked. “I can hardly see the government troops attacking it. They would have no reason to. What would they hope to gain?”
For a moment Ben said nothing and then it dawned on Amie. “You mean a third group was involved?”
Ben nodded.
“Not from the Tsaan, surely?”
“Goodness no, they are the most peaceful of all our peoples. It was chaotic, there were people running everywhere with guns. No one was safe; no one knew what was going on.”
Amie shuddered. “Don’t remind me. I still have nightmares about it.”
“Think,” continued Ben. “It is the perfect time for others to move in, no one would be aware.”
“And who is this third group?” asked Amie. “Though Ben, I don’t want to get involved, I really don’t. All I want now is a quiet, peaceful life. I’ve had enough excitement for a dozen lifetimes. Dirk might be able to help you, but I don’t need to be part of it.”
“Would it make a difference if I told you Angelina was in the group?” asked Ben.
“Angelina? Don’t be ridiculous Ben. I can’t possibly believe that! She’s only a child. She can hardly be ten years old! Well, no one knew her real age for certain. Are you telling me she’s running around waving an AK-47? That’s so ridiculous. I’ve heard enough,” and Amie went to stand up.
“Wait,” Ben grabbed her arm pulling her back down. “Let me tell you the whole story.”
Reluctantly Amie sank back onto the ground and pulled her coat around her to keep out the cool wind.
“The orphanage was attacked, yes, and many of the children were killed and some of the teachers too. They say the rest were all taken and driven away. Angelina was with the ones they spared, and the headmistress too I think.”
“Mrs Motswezi?”
Ben nodded his head. “They were driven inland and no one knew where they had gone, or why they had taken the children. No one heard anything for many, many months, until bit by bit the rumours filtered through. They had set up a huge camp and were training their troops to fight.”
“But what would they want with young girls?” Amie asked the question before she had time to think, and the answer left her cold. “You mean?”
“Yes, to have a woman keeps the men happy. And many men like very young girls.”
“Don’t!” Amie retorted. “No, not Angelina, not …” She started to sob. Appalling images crowded her brain and she squeezed her eyes tight, trying to block them out. Dear, sweet, shy little Angelina, thumb stuck in her mouth, clutching Amie’s skirt, waiting by the gates to the school, never leaving her side, Angelina hiding behind the sofa, sitting on the kitchen floor playing with the saucepans, her big, brown eyes gazing adoringly at Amie, the one person she had put her complete trust and faith in. And what had happened? Amie had been out shopping when the fighting started.
“I don’t believe you,” Amie said. “Angelina couldn’t possibly be in this camp. When I left the house, she was with Pretty. She would have been nowhere near the orphanage. This is all a pack of lies. And anyway, you probably only caught the odd glimpse of the child, how can you possibly say she’s now in a camp with a group of child abductors?”
“When I went to your house to see if you were safe, Pretty told me she took her to the orphanage,” replied Ben. “It was the safest place she could think of in case the riots spread as far out as Spring Glen.”
“So, Pretty survived as well?”
“I don’t know. When I last saw her, she was still in your old house. I did not see her in the camp.”
“But you say you saw Angelina though,” Amie tried hard to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.
“I’m sure of it. She was sucking her thumb, I remembered that.”
“Lots of children suck their thumbs,” snapped Amie.
Ben sighed. “I know, but she was also cuddling a blue teddy bear.”
Amie gasped as she recalled that day at the mall. She’d ignored all the warnings about choosing any one child as a favourite, and had unofficially fostered the little AIDS orphan after meeting her at the orphanage. For many weeks Amie had fought her impulse to whisk the child off, and even had wild ideas about taking her back to England. It wasn’t until Angelina had run away from the school hostel and turned up on the doorstep one day, that she finally allowed herself to become emotionally attached.
She’d sent her to the best school that catered to the children of the ministers and expatriates, and treated her to a complete wardrobe of new clothes, to replace the one threadbare cotton dress she’d always worn.
But it was the blue teddy bear that rang bells for Amie. Angelina had never asked for it. She never asked for anything. But seeing her little hand stroke it in the shop, it too had gone into the basket along with the dresses, jackets and underwear. Angelina had taken that bear everywhere, to bed, to school, when they went out in the car, when they went shopping. Amie would laugh and suggest Angelina should call it ‘Glue Bear’.
It was the only blue bear Amie had ever seen in any of the shops, but Ben might have noticed it too. He was astute enough to know it was one sure way of getting Amie’s cooperation, simply by suggesting Angelina might be in danger. Could she trust him? Was he telling the truth? And what could he possibly want from her?
As if in answer to her unspoken question Ben blurted out. “Do you still have your camera?”
“Don’t be so ridiculous,” snapped Amie, “after all I’ve been through!” She stopped. Ben didn’t know about her capture, her imprisonment and her escape. Of course, the bush telegraph was way ahead of Vodacom and any of the other cell phone companies; way ahead of the news broadcasts on television, but no one heard everything.
She paused. She did have a camera. Before the video crew left, Dave had given her the small hand-held camera, saying it might come in useful one day.
“Think of it as my present to you,” he’d said with a smile. “To thank you for all you have don
e and, who knows, you might be able to capture some amazing footage. When you come back to England, you’ll be instantly famous!”
Was this how fate worked? They say there’s a reason for everything, but what use was a camera if the idea was to rescue Angelina? What difference would that make?
“What good would a camera be? How could that help?”
“We need to tell the outside world what is going on,” he replied. “How will people believe us if we tell them about all the suffering, the inhumanity, the cruel things they are doing? We must get them to help us stop it, and kill these evil people.”
Amie sighed. “It’s a nice idea Ben,” she said, “but I’m not sure the world will take too much notice. I know we don’t get up to date news here, but the last I heard, no one had officially supported one side or the other. Their attitude was, ‘it’s just another African conflict, and we are not getting involved. Once there’s a clear winner, we might be prepared to do business with them’. And I think that’s what has probably happened. I hear there are a few foreigners visiting Togodo again. Everyone will want to get in and grab a piece of the action knowing there’s lots of oil.”
“But you still don’t understand, Amie,” Ben knew he was not getting through to her. “What I’m talking about is not some Togodians wanting to make war in Apatu against the new government. These men are not from here, they are foreigners.”
“So where do you think they’ve come from? One of the African countries near here?” asked Amie. “Are they after the oil as well?”
“I don’t know what they want. It could be more land for their people and our minerals as well. But I do know they are killing my people and they have caused much suffering.”
Amie drew in a sharp breath. “Look Ben, I think we need to go back and talk to everyone else about this. I can’t help you on my own, perhaps we shouldn’t get involved at all.” Even as she said it, Amie knew she would do everything in her power to rescue Angelina and take her to Ruanga or some safe place. No way could she leave her to her fate, even though common sense was telling her to leave well alone.
She stood up. “The sun will be up soon, I should get back to camp.” For a brief moment she wondered if Ben would try and stop her leaving, but he made no move to detain her. She walked a few paces and looked back. “Let me return on my own and talk to everyone, and when I’ve reassured them, I’ll come and fetch you.” She paused. “But, wait, you killed Jumbo, they’ll not forgive you for that.” Amie sat down again.
“He’s not dead. I only made him look like that. If you press the side of the neck, people go to sleep, but they wake up again.”
“Where did you learn to do such a thing?”
“One of my cousins had a boxing club in Apatu. He taught me.”
“Oh,” said Amie. There were a lot of things she didn’t know about Ben now she came to think of it. If only she was sure she could trust him. “Which way is the camp?” She had lost all sense of direction the night before and she wasn’t sure how far Ben had dragged her.
It took Amie some time to find her way back. Her legs were still shaking and she was shivering from her ordeal. Once or twice she looked back over her shoulder to see if Ben was following her and really letting her go. Would he change his mind, pounce on her and drag her away again?
As she approached the tents, she was expecting to find everyone getting up, for most Africans rise with the dawn. The early beams of the sun were peeping over the mountains to the east, long golden fingers of light that gently warmed the air. Later in the day those same beams would blast the ground with a fierce intensity, making the sun more an enemy than a friend. For now, Amie welcomed the warmth as she hugged her coat around her, but she arrived to find the camp in an uproar.
Kaluhah and Jumbo were in a heated discussion and Amie was relieved to see Ben had told the truth; he’d not killed Jumbo after all. But she also realised having a guard on duty each night was no guarantee of safety. Not if Ben had managed to escape, then creep up and disable Jumbo so easily. Like many Africans whose names foreigners found hard to pronounce, he’d looked for an adopted name, and since Jumbo described his size and strength, Jumbo he became.
Everyone was very nervous when they found Ben had disappeared. Dirk’s men were convinced he’d come to spy on them and was now going to tell the authorities where they were. Jefri and Sampson were arguing fiercely with Reibos, blaming him for not making sure Ben had been tied up securely. He’d been in charge of the prisoner so it was his fault.
Amie walked over to Dirk who was trying to calm everyone down.
“I need to talk to you.”
“What, now?”
“Yes, right now. It’s about all this uproar, it might help.” He hadn’t noticed Amie had arrived back into the camp, or even that she’d been missing in the first place.
“Let me calm the boys down first, I’ll get Helen to serve breakfast right away. We’ll talk later,” and Dirk went to try and make peace between his workers. They looked as if they were about to kill each other. Looking back and seeing Amie’s face he added, “After breakfast we’ll find a quiet spot and listen to what’s bothering you. I’m sure it’s something we can easily sort out,” he said with a smile.
Amie wasn’t so sure.
When she recounted the events of the night before it was difficult for Amie to guess what Dirk was thinking. His face remained impassive and when she’d finished, he sat quite still for what seemed an age. She didn’t tell the full story; she made out she’d willingly walked a little way into the bush to talk to Ben. She said nothing about the fact he’d overpowered her and dragged her away by force.
“I can’t make a decision on any of this, except to say Ben is welcome to stay here with us, as long as he pulls his weight, and Jumbo is prepared to tolerate him. When Jonathon comes back, we’ll discuss it further.” Then Dirk added, “I can see you want us to rush around and go and find this group of foreign men and see what they’re up to, but then what? Storm the camp? Mount a daring rescue and free all the captives? This is not a Hollywood movie, Amie, and we need to be realistic.”
“Yes, I know,” she said with a sigh, scuffing the soil with the toe of her shoe, disturbing a line of ants busily marching past.
“We’ll have to be patient. That’s one good lesson we can all learn from this, patience.”
While Amie watched Dirk walk away, she felt sad. Patience had never been her forte. He would talk to Jumbo first and try to persuade him of the importance of allowing Ben to join them without any repercussions.
Amie tried to put aside all thoughts of Angelina, and what she might be suffering. She performed her daily tasks and did her best to shut out the images of Angelina being physically or sexually abused that kept jumping into her head. She mentally kicked herself for not asking how recently Ben had spied on the camp. It might already be too late. Angelina might not even be alive. She hadn’t even asked how far away the site was, how many days had it taken Ben to walk there? Had he even come straight here? For all she knew it might have been months ago, the men might have moved away by now.
Helen could see something was bothering her, but she neither questioned nor pried, so they went to fetch water in silence. Nothing was said as they cleaned and tidied the tents and swept the area with branches.
Amie had learned the importance of keeping the space around their sleeping quarters free from vegetation and rubbish: it was easier to see the odd scorpion or snake that might venture too close.
She worked with Kahlib repairing the wooden stands for the sleeping bags, holding the logs close together while he tied them tightly with twine. Dirk was always reminding them how important it was to avoid lying directly on the ground.
It was later in the day when Dirk told her he’d spoken to Jumbo, and since no one had even noticed Amie had been absent from the camp, it might be best not to mention it to anyone. Jumbo was angry he’d been tricked and put out for the count, but he’d reluctantly promised not to harm Ben. Dirk
wasn’t sure he would keep his promise, but Ben must decide the risks for himself.
Having got permission to invite Ben, Amie had no idea where to find him. She walked in wide circles around the camp but could see no sign of him at all. It was possible he’d changed his mind, but as it grew dark, he appeared on the other side of the Land Rover. Amie walked over.
“Come and meet everyone more formally this time,” she said, as she gripped his arm and pulled him closer to the small, enclosed oven where Helen was removing the tubers and chunks of kudu she’d left to roast earlier.
“Goodness, I didn’t expect to see you again!” she said as she kneeled back and looked quizzically at Amie.
“I should introduce you properly. This is Ben. He worked with me on the shoots when the Colonel blackmailed me into filming for him. Ben became a friend and I still think of him as one,” replied Amie. Ben shot her a quick look of gratitude.
“Nice to meet you ‘properly’, Ben,” Helen smiled and held out her hand. “I hope you’ll forgive us for …” she pointed to indicate where Ben had been tied up.
“No, no,” he cut in, “I understand. The whole world has gone a little crazy. No one knows who to trust these days.”
There was a loud snort from Jumbo who was watching Ben like a hawk. Amie was convinced that at the first opportunity, Jumbo would harm or even kill Ben. He hadn’t forgiven him, and wouldn’t forgive him any time in the future.
Despite their reservations, generally Dirk’s other men were reasonably friendly and shook hands half-heartedly. They weren’t used to working with someone from another tribe. At the lodge, it had been a tightly-knit community, all Luebos from the same family. But if Mr Dirk wanted them to welcome this stranger into their midst, they did not have a say. The only exception was Jumbo, who glared at the newcomer and brushed off his proffered handshake.
Whatever they might think about Ben everyone was keen to hear news of the outside world. He had little to tell them. It was his tribe that had been overturned and he was not about to share the news he was related to the President who’d been deposed in the bloody fighting. He’d been keeping a very low profile since the war had broken out and he’d never even told Amie how well connected he was.
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