These species of vacations became his definite reality, when already adult he decided to settle down with Merin again. His mother's death had seriously affected him.
He had studied languages, trades, handled computers, but none of this filled him entirely. He felt an internal emptiness that he knew came from his early uprooting and for that reason he decided to solve it by moving definitively to what he considered his homeland. Constantly shifting, as it is known that the Tuaregs fluctuate between the African borders as if they had pores.
He was an attractive man. Dark-skin and dark-eyed, curly black hair, with a mouth as if drawn by an expert, a firm nose and a thin chin, all this gave his face a singular beauty. His muscular body seemed carved by an expert chisel, but it was a product of constant exercise. This had been accentuated in the last two years by the life of continuous fight with the natural elements of the desert.
All the young man regretted was that his arrival would be viewed and framed by this cursed internal war between the nationalist groups, in addition to the jihadist groups that proclaimed revenge and death for the Westerners. Their tribe was immersed and in the center, but they sought to escape the conflict they did not understand or care about.
Silently he walked through the tremendous scene his eyes revealed. He was a tough man, but he could not stop horror and pity from overpowering him. The medical group had been shot and left to desert vermin.
This he had intended to give the warning when he approached base camp. The fundamentalists were approaching and they knew no mercy. The options were to be with them (even by force) or against them. Although not like this for Europeans or Americans, for whom there was no forgiveness.
While this thought was running through his mind, one of his brothers told him that he had just found someone alive. This absolutely surprised him. There were usually no survivors, and they were sure of that.
As he approached he could see the inanimate body of a woman who barely breathed. Her undressed clothes, her leg and her side did not stop bleeding slowly. Her life was short.
He tried his luck with one of the vehicles and this one turned on first. He gave the order to load her on the back. She would not resist too much and it was impossible to carry her on a camel. His practical spirit impelled him and he decided to take her to the healer of the tribe to attend to her immediately. Once recovered, if this happened because of the seriousness of the wounds, he himself would take her to her camp.
Slowly he drove over until he gets to the long line of camels that formed the caravan of his clan. He knew that his decision might not please his father and the other strong men of the clan, but compassion prevailed. The tribe he belonged to preferred to stay away from the problems of others, and the Westerners were a potential source of them.
Once arrived, he descended and quickly explained the situation. As he foresaw, his father was reluctant, but later he allowed them to examine the inanimate woman.
The healer of the clan refused strictly to attend to her: doubly considered her condition of being western and woman as a bad omen. But two girls offered to help. Usem had to extract the bullets and stop the blood, as he could and going to his memory of first aid. They collaborated by bringing medical items they had found on the SUV, especially antiseptics.
What was done was a remarkable precariousness but effective. While this was happening a messenger was sent to the medical camp to communicate the situation, both the slaughter and the serious state of the westerner.
Usem was able to give more detail once they proceeded to the treatment. She was very pretty even though the lividity and fever that surrounded her barely showed. Face with broad cheekbones, a mouth made for kissing, and honey-colored hair that now looked tangled and muddled by sweat, blood and sand. Her eyes were not seen but he remembered her face.
He had seen her leave the camp and had been impressed by her beauty. She had looked at him with curiosity and intensity, though of course she had only seen his eyes. Usem wore turban and veil, like all Tuareg men of age.
Once the improvised task was finished and still tense by the complexity of the moment, the man left. Women would keep her fresh and change their sales.
Once in his tent he undressed completely and was sanitized. His muscles ached from the situation. He lay in his cot for a few minutes and thought he should go to his father to reassure him. He had to reassure him that soon the Westerner would be out of her caravan.
He did so. Merin told him that it was best to avoid conflicts. He was a man of peace and disagreed with the Tuareg tribes who proclaimed uprising as the only way to avoid being invaded and subdued. Precisely his greatest pain was the flight of his other son, Badis, who joined the fighting groups in Mali.
Once the tribal council, which had informally gathered around his father had calmed down, he withdrew to his place. They proposed resting and checking the condition of the woman at midnight and taking care of her. The women were to return to their families.
As he sat on one of the leathers for that purpose he closed his eyes halfway. Tomorrow the messengers will probably return and before their arrival, the organization's vehicles might come to look for her.
He felt a slight noise and he opened his eyes and saw Dassim. The woman was beautiful and they had had a love affair for several months. She was divorced and there was no complexe issues in being his lover.
This had always really impacted him: although the Tuareg were Muslims, their view of woman and her role did not conform to the traditional Islamic view of physical and spiritual submission to man. They did not even wear a veil, quite another thing. It was men who covered themselves. As long as discretion remained, he could have lovers. This was something that the fundamentalists did not even conceive.
They made love without inhibitions and then she inquired about the white woman. She was interested to know what was going to happen to her.
"Is she beautiful?"
"She's too hurt to appreciate that," the man replied.
"You know that your decision to keep her here has been disquieting." There is fear.
"It's only going to be until tomorrow." Our fear can not blind us to the misfortune of others.
"Westerners never worry about our afflictions. They have been the provocateurs of many of them. Why should we act differently?”
"Because we're different. We are a people of peace, "he answered, closing the question. Beyond openness in roles, the man had the authority and he was the boss's son.
Not everyone respected him equally for his condition of being mixed race. The union of his father with a white woman had not been well received in his time, although the time limped roughnesses. But when clan background issues were raised, some members of the family could confront him. Hence their urgency to solve the matter without getting older.
The night advanced and Usem left for the tent where the wounded one was. It was very fresh and the sky was of unfathomable blackness with points of intense brightness from the stars. He breathed in the pure air and felt comforted again.
Upon entering, she thanked the women for their work and they left quickly. He went to the litter where the western one lay and saw her as pale as before. But at least she was not bleeding and the fever had subsided.
He leaned on hides at the side of the bunk ready to protect the girl's dream. This one was restless and times of delirium. He heard her scream. Then he fell into a slumber for most of the night. There was a moment when Usem dozed off and when he woke up startled, he saw that her opened eyes scrutinized him, then fell into unconsciousness.
Dawn found him numb and exhausted. One of the women brought him food and tea, which comforted him. He felt the arrival of the messengers in the middle of the morning, and the fact that emissaries from the medical camp had not yet arrived to look for the wounded one gave him a pessimistic feeling.
When he approached and inquired about them, their faces were unmistakable.
"The camp has been razed. There are many dead and wounded and th
ose who survived fled. We returned as fast as we could and Allah accompanied us. But there is no place for the woman to return.
This news was the least desired or expected by Usem. Now he did not know what to do and did not imagine it would happen.
His father sent for him and told him that the Council would meet and evaluate what to do. The fate of the white woman was tied to that moment and its decision.
Four
Before entering the main tent where the meeting was to take place, Usem went to the wounded young woman's room again to check her condition. She was still unconscious, although one of the women told him that she had awakened briefly and drank a few sips of water. But she could not move yet.
He looked down at her, her pale face and fragile shoulders. Underneath the sheet was her visible slenderness and delicacy. "She had to be cared for," he thought.
Thoughts on what to do turned his mind into a volcano. When entering the meeting he had to circle round the circle of blue men who were already sitting on leathers. His father presided the meeting and called him to stay by his side.
Briefly, the situation that the majority knew but not first hand was explained. Many were worried about the advancement of the armed groups for which they felt they were not represented at all. But they did not want to provoke a conflict with them that would only lead to problems and violence.
"The group that made the attacks came from the south as we expected," Merin said. They have begun to move and destroy everything that opposes them. Women are kidnapped and men killed unless they are submitted.
"We've seen it for months," said one of the older men. Their intentions are not new, but the way they have proceeded against the whites shows that they are no longer afraid.
"They'll kill anyone who opposes or helps the Westerners," a second man exclaimed loudly.
This began to generate an environment not conducive to the intentions of Usem, which were basically to protect the young woman until she could be restored to some European or American military detachment. He therefore respectfully asked for the word to manifest.
"I know we are all worried about being exposed to the reprisals of the armed groups. I also know that we do not agree with them and their behavior. We are a people of peace, which does not mean that we are cowards.
"This is not a matter of courage or cowardice, Usem," his father said. It is a matter of not engaging in a war that is not ours.
"If the rebellious Muslims should not care about us, nor the Westerners should!" Shouted a third man from the meeting. "They have only brought violence, separation and death to our land!
"I think what you say is true," Usem answered coldly. But we are a people of peace and respectful of Allah. And this among other things speaks of hospitality and solidarity. What nation would we be if fear surrounds us and we flee leaving behind our wounded condemned to death?
"And what if we condemn our families to death?" The same man objected.
"Do you have something in mind that allows us an intermediate exit?" Merin said.
"Yes," Usem said slowly. Those who attacked the woman's group probably thought she was dead. They do not leave one injured.
"That's true," exclaimed Merin.
"Doctors’ bases do not exist anymore." Armed groups border the entire region. The woman has nowhere to go. We are her last hope. I propose that we continue with our march to the south and carry her along. This should conform to our structure, our standards and clothing. When we reach some area where she can be safely delivered, we will do so.
"It's fine with me," one of them exclaimed, and the others nodded slowly.
It seemed safe and had no big risks, apparently.
"But will the Westerner accept these terms?" It involves submitting to our culture and not causing unnecessary disturbances, "Merin said doubtfully.
"She has no other choice," said Usem. It's that or to die. I'll explain it to her myself.
"Will you take charge of her?" It is a big responsibility.
"I will do it, father." I will not let you down.
With this decision the meeting fell apart and Usem stayed to talk alone with his father.
"I thank you for your support," he said fondly.
"There were not many possibilities. We must move forward. Take care that this woman improves fast and does not become a hindrance to the rest. It is in her and in you that it does not become a burden that others want to eliminate. You know there are two or three who expect to see you fail to prove that you are not worthy of the position you will inherit.
-I know. Sometimes I myself do not think I am, "Usem said sadly.
"I trust you, son." But you must behave to the height of the circumstances. This is not a game, our security is compromised. Watch how you act. Do not get too attached to her.
Merin warned because he himself had been a prisoner of passion many years ago, and it had blinded him. His decision had been hasty and had upset laws of centuries in his tribe. Marrying a Westerner had been nothing more than a chimera that had not helped his people.
However, in front of him was a well-loved fruit of that fleeting union. He did not want his son to make his own mistakes, but now that the situation around them was so dangerous.
Usem marched in silence, thanking himself for being eloquent and having obtained the support of the Council. He knew that it was due to the respect that his father imposed and he had to make every effort to correspond to it.
His task now was to heal the foreigner and internalize her situation. She should adjust to it, she had no choice if she wanted to live. He begged her to be a woman of common sense and understand.
It would not be easy for him. They had several months of march towards the interior of Africa and the desert, having to adapt to the customs, food, laws. Her role was to change. The Tuareg women were independent but not to the degree that the European women were accustomed.
With this in mind he entered the store where the young woman lay and found her awake even though she could barely speak. They told him that they had tried to communicate with her, but they did not understand her.
He approached her slowly trying not to alarm her more than she already seemed to be. She retreated to the end of the leather bunk and watched him with dread. Usem understood it: she woke up shocked to find herself among strangers, unable to communicate. His veiled appearance must also be frightening. She would probably feel trapped by those who had executed the massacre.
"Do you understand me?" He said in Arabic.
Before her lack of reaction he asked the same thing in French and soon in English. Here he got an answer, he saw it in her eyes.
"Are you English, American?" Do not worry, you're among friends. "He tried to reassure her with his words and tone. We found you almost lifeless and we tried to take care of you.
She seemed suddenly to remember part of the tragedy, for she gave a sob that tried to drown her. Her fear was more than clear: she did not know who she was talking to, he might be one of the terrorists who wanted to know more about her colleagues at the medical post.
She looked around and listened to the questions that were probably trying to assess the situation. She tried to resist this strange man who spoke softly but with a very seductive hoarse tone. She would not know the situation or the place where the medical colony was for her!
He kept talking and trying to win her trust.
"My name is Usem and I belong to a Tuareg tribe. You are in one of our tents and these women have taken care of you. How do you feel?
"Like a truck hit me," she said. My whole body hurts and especially my leg. I feel weak and exhausted.
"Logical, due to your wounds”
“My colleagues?
The man looked at her with seriousness and with some sadness and this was enough to understand that there was no hope of someone alive.
“You say you are Tuareg ... I remember talking about you with Morena and the others. We saw them yesterday at the camp”.
She was drag
ging her voice, which sounded very low. Evidently soon the memory of her lifeless friends shook her and caused her eyes to drown with tears.
"You must ... help me ..." she said in a small voice. I have to go back to my place and warn them that they are in danger. Surely they must be looking for us.
Usem watched her trying to assess how the truth would fall. She was weak but she had to understand her situation at once.
"I'm sorry, it's too late. We tried to warn them but the armed groups acted faster than we thought.
"What do you say ... what do you mean?", she moaned.
"Everyone is dead or they have fled, you have nowhere to turn to." At least not for now.
These words fell like a stone slab on the young woman who refused to believe them at first.
“You lie! It is impossible! "You want to fool me!" She shouted desperately.
Usem looked at her with pity and thought that it was enough, he saw that it was hurting her. But he added everything at once for her to absorb and digest before he left.
"You'll come with us, it's settled." The tribe has decided to give you hospitality since you are a survivor and your options to remain alive in this minefield that is our desert are void.
She heard all this as if in a dream and little by little blackness invaded her. She plunged into sleep again. The man looked at her and decided to take charge of her to free the women. He had to think about what the logistics of the transfer and care for this woman would be. It seemed rebellious and he had made the commitment with his father. She was now her responsibility.
Five.
Victoria came back to herself several hours later. Looking at herself, she saw the man who had spoken to her before and then remembered his words.
"It could not be true! All dead? What would she do, how would she return to her home? "
Migrant Hearts Page 2
