The Star of Simbako

by PJ Skinner

  ‘Gone where?’

  ‘It seems as if she crossed the river to the forest where the bondo hut is.’

  ‘Why did she do that?’

  ‘I don’t know. She was sweating and had a bad headache today. Maybe she got in the river to cool down.’

  ‘Sounds like malaria.’

  ‘Whatever happened, she got swept across the river. You know what the current is like. She’s lucky she didn’t drown.’

  ‘The girls are being cleansed. No one may enter the bondo. They will send her away.’

  ‘I doubt it. She has bad juju in her pocket. The bondo has been defiled by an unclean foreigner. They'll do anything to save the bondo from evil. They will kill her.’

  ‘Where is Sahr? Why didn’t he come in?’

  ‘He’s afraid because he thinks you who put the curse on Sam. Did you?’

  Fatimata could not hide her guilt. She stood up shouting.

  ‘What if I did? She deserves it. That woman tried to steal Mr Fergus from me.’

  ‘Are you mad? Do you imagine an old woman like you would interest Mr Fergus? It is not Sam’s fault she’s young and attractive.’

  Fatou sank back to her chair.

  ‘I didn’t believe it would work.’

  ‘Well, it has and now you need to help us. Chief Sesay demands you rescue her before something awful happens.’

  ‘No! I can’t go. It’ll make it things worse. You know I’m banned and why. I won’t do it.’

  ‘But the Chief orders you to go. You don’t have a choice.’

  ‘I won’t go. You can’t make me.’

  Fatimata crossed her arms and turned away from Tamba. He would not persuade her. The Chief would have to summon her himself if he wished to force the issue.

  ‘Please Fatou, that young woman will die if you will not help. Only a sowei can enter the bondo.’

  ‘I will not go.’

  Tamba stood up and stumbled down the stairs in the dark yard. Sahr saw his face and started the jeep. They drove back to the Chief’s compound to impart the bad news.

  ***

  Ned and Fergus got to their hotel in Mano just in time to eat dinner. The food was a delicious potato leaf stew with goat on a bed of rice. The two men ate in silence, savouring every bite after their long day in the field.

  ‘Is there a telephone in the hotel?’ said Ned, when he had finished.

  ‘Yes, but you need to ask reception to dial the number for you.’

  ‘I’m going to call Gemma and tell her about Sam.’

  ‘Good for you. It’s always best to make a clean break.’

  ‘I hope I’m making the right decision.’

  ‘Neddy, all decisions are right, it’s indecision that is fatal.’

  Ned got up from the table and walked over to the reception desk to book his call.

  Fergus smoked a cheroot and drank a glass of brandy of dubious origin. A big cloud of moths had invaded the dining room and collided with the cheap chandeliers before taking swallow dives on to the floor and tables. Fergus put a beer mat over his brandy glass to discourage their swimming. He wasn’t able to avoid hearing Ned’s contribution to the conversation that followed, carried out at full volume due to the poor connection.

  ***

  ‘Gemma? It’s me Ned.’

  ‘Hello, sweetheart. I’m so glad you called …’

  ‘I have something important to tell you.’

  ‘Me too! Can I go first? I’m …’ The line buzzed and crackled.

  ‘The line is terrible. What did you say?’

  ‘… so, the doctor said … Isn’t that wonderful?’

  ‘I don't understand. Can you say it again?’

  ‘Pregnant! I’m … You will be …’

  ‘Pregnant? Is it mine?’

  ‘The doctor says … Sorry what did you say?’

  ‘I didn’t say anything. Is the baby mine?’

  ‘Yes …’ The line cut off.

  Ned dropped the receiver and it swung there, banging into the reception desk. He turned to look at Fergus, who stared at a moth crawling in slimy potato leaf gravy.

  ‘Did you hear that?’ said Ned.

  ‘Sorry? I wasn’t concentrating.’

  ‘She’s pregnant. It’s mine.’

  ‘Jesus Ned, how did that happen? Don’t tell me you had a final shag when you saw her in London?’

  He saw Ned’s face and didn’t need an answer.

  ***

  When Sam came to, the girls had gone, but the women stood over her. She felt strange. Her skin was tight and dry and she wasn’t wearing any clothes. She lay in a tiny cot with a basic foam mattress. Fever raged in her body, but she shivered. She opened her eyes wider and saw she had been painted white. Then she remembered the blood. She tried to scream, but no sound would come out. The women talked among themselves, but she couldn’t understand any Krio so she did not understand what they said. She was tired, dog-tired, dead-tired.

  Closing her eyes, she tried to pull herself into foetal position, but they had tied her limbs to the frame of the bed, so she lay still, sweat pouring off her body into the damp mattress, trying to become tiny. She did not know what they wanted, or if they were even real. Perhaps she was still on the terrace. Or even at home in the compound.

  Even in her confused state, she realised that she had malaria. She had little time to escape and take her medicine before it got a lot worse, but she didn’t have the strength of a new born baby and sleep tempted her with oblivion.

  The hairs on Ned’s arm had brushed hers then and she jumped, but he disappeared. Fergus laughed at her. Why was he so mean? She never understood. Her eyes became heavy and her breath rasped in her chest. Just five minutes sleep and she would try to escape. Five minutes would be enough.

  ‘Is she sleeping?’

  ‘I think so. She has a high fever. It may kill her.’

  ‘What are we to do?’

  ‘She has brought bad juju into the bondo and she's not clean. The maximum sanction is required.’

  ‘But are you sure the sanction applies to her? She’s not one of us. And she’s ill. I doubt she even knows where she is.’

  ‘You know what the traditions say.’

  ‘I’m more worried about what the police will say. If we kill this woman, they will come for us. Being sowei will not save us anymore. The world has changed.’

  ‘What’s wrong with you? Have you lost your beliefs? This is no time to wilt like old jungle flowers. We must save the forest from outsiders. Whether she knew it or not, she brought a voodoo curse into the bondo and there is only one way to lift it.’

  ‘How should we proceed?’

  ‘We must prepare the hut for the sacrifice. Tomorrow night, we will carry out the ceremony.’

  ‘She must die?’

  ‘It’s the only solution.’

  Chapter XIII

  When Fergus and Ned got back to Fona the next day, Tamba was waiting for them in the sitting room of their house. He plucked at his robes as he perched on the edge of the uncomfortable sofa. His usual bumptious exterior had been replaced by a deflated melancholy. He had the air of someone who had been waiting a long time, but he did not look pleased to see them. His stomach rose and fell as he breathed out an extended sigh. There was no sign of Fatimata.

  ‘Hi Tamba! This is a surprise. Are you seeking refuge from Sam? She’s a real devil, isn’t she?’ said Fergus, taking in his bedraggled state without comment.

  Tamba did not smile. He looked at the ground and drew in a deep breath. ‘I have bad news,’ he said, ‘about Sam.’

  ‘What sort of news? Is she hurt?’ said Ned.

  ‘She is missing.’

  ‘What do you mean missing? Didn’t she come to work yesterday?’ said Fergus.

  ‘Oh, yes. She came, but she wasn’t well, she had a headache. Do you know what voodoo is?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Fergus.

  ‘Not real
ly,’ said Ned.

  ‘Voodoo is a mixture of the beliefs of various ethnic groups from Africa. We use it to make sense of events and to influence life in our favour by using a healer or witch doctor to intercede for us with the spirits of our ancestors,’ said Tamba.

  ‘I understand all that, but what’s this got to do with Sam?’ said Fergus.

  ‘Someone put a serious curse on her, trying to kill her or make her disappear.’

  ‘Jesus Tamba! Are you telling us that Sam is missing because of a spell?’ said Ned.

  ‘Steady on there, Neddy,’ said Fergus. ‘People around here believe powerful spells can make you fall in love or die.’

  ‘Have you searched for her, Tamba?’

  ‘Um, not exactly, but we know where she is.’

  ‘What on earth are you doing here? Why didn’t you get her right away?’

  ‘She is in the bondo hut in the sacred forest. It is forbidden for men to enter there.’

  ‘And what is a bondo?’ said Ned, looking incredulous.

  ‘It’s where they circumcise the girls,’ said Fergus, ‘to get them ready for marriage.’

  Ned winced.

  ‘Circumcise the girls? How do they do that? I thought you could only circumcise boys?’ said Ned.

  ‘Jesus, Ned, do I have to give you all the details? They cut out their clitoris, so they won’t stray.’

  Ned blanched. ‘Jesus, don’t tell me that Sam …’

  ‘No, sir, the Sowei, the wise women, will not touch Sam, but there is something else,’ said Tamba.

  ‘Something else? Isn’t this bad enough?’ said Ned

  ‘Sam took bad juju into the bondo with her.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Someone planted a voodoo fetish on her, a bag full of evil spirits, to make her die. If the sowei find it, they will kill her and burn the body to stop the curse contaminating the sacred forest.’

  ‘They'll murder her over a superstition! Do something, Fergus.’

  ‘We will stop them. There must be a way.’

  ‘You can’t go there, sir.’

  ‘I understand,’ said Fergus.

  ‘What are you talking about, Fergus? We must go there now and save her.’

  ‘No, we can’t. I’m sorry, Ned, but they would kill us too. It is their most sacred place.’

  ‘So we let her die then? For God’s sake, man!’ Ned whipped around and grabbed Tamba by the shoulders. ‘Tamba, help us! How do we save her without violating your beliefs?’

  ‘There is one person who can go because she used to be sowei, but she has refused.’

  ‘Adanna? Why won’t she go?’

  ‘No, not Adanna. Fatimata.’

  ‘Fatimata is a sowei? Why isn’t she in the bondo for the ceremonies?’

  ‘She’s not gone since the soldiers came here. She’s no longer a sowei after what happened.’

  ‘What happened?’ said Ned. ‘Oh, God, did they rape her?’

  ‘It’s not my business to tell you. She will come back soon from the shop. You may ask her, but she will refuse to go.’

  ‘Thank you, Tamba. This can't be easy for you,’ said Fergus.

  ‘Mr Fergus, I’ve become fond of Sam, she’s kind and brave. Please save her.’ Tamba’s bottom lip wobbled and he brushed his eyes with the corner of his robe.

  ‘Okay, don’t worry. We’ll think of something. How long do we have?’

  ‘If they found the juju, they will kill her at sunset and burn the bondo hut with her inside.’

  ‘Leave it with me. I'll persuade Fatimata as soon as she gets here.’

  ***

  Sam woke with the dawn. A chorus of birds sang and tweeted their ownership of the forest like a crowd of chattering children. She tried to shush them, but her lips were dry and her tongue felt like it belonged to somebody else. Her limbs had been tied down and she thrashed around, unable to work out what was wrong. Then she realised her eyes were still shut and she forced them open to find she was bound to a bed made of logs in a tiny bedroom with no window. Light streamed in through the wood’s cracks and illuminated her chaffed wrists where the cords that bound her had rubbed her skin raw.

  Fear flooded her body. What was going on? She couldn’t remember anything about the night before and she felt awful, cold and hot at the same time. Why couldn’t she piece together past events? Had she been drugged? She stopped moving and listened for a moment. Someone crept around outside her room. She forced a whimper. The door opened a crack and a white face peered into the gloom.

  ‘Help me,’ said Sam, ‘please help me.’

  The face disappeared. She heard frantic whispering on the other side of the door. It creaked open again and more faces swam into view. Suddenly, the small room filled with girls giggling and poking her.

  ‘Water,’ said Sam. ‘I need water.’

  One girl disappeared and came back with a wooden bowl. They all crowded around and supported her head while one girl poured water into her mouth. She gulped it down. The cool liquid was the best thing she had ever tasted, quenching her thirst and lubricating her throat. She forced out another word, ‘Why?’ tugging her wrist to show she couldn't get up. One girl, older than the others, came forward. They pushed her towards the bed.

  ‘You bring bad juju to bondo.’

  ‘But it’s not mine.’

  ‘The bondo is now cursed. The sowei will burn it.’

  ‘And me?’

  ‘You will die.’

  A rising panic broke through her fevered consciousness, followed by a growing realisation. These girls were her only chance of escape. She couldn’t let them leave or she would die. Somehow, they must be persuaded to free her.

  She shook her head.

  ‘No,’ she said, lowering her voice and growling, ‘you must save me. My blood will be on your hands if you don’t. I’m a witch and I will curse you too.’

  The girl stepped back and whispered to the others whose eyes widened.

  ‘Why didn't the sowei tell us that?’

  ‘The sowei do not understand. They found a juju in my pocket I made for someone, didn’t they? I can transfer it to you if I want. If you don’t save me …’

  ‘But they will punish us if we free you.’

  ‘I won't tell them how I escaped. Please, I don’t want to curse you, but I will. White women are powerful witches – that’s why we are white. It’s the power of our spells that does it.’

  Even Sam amazed herself with this lie, but it seemed to have an effect. The girls withdrew from the room, but they did not leave the hut. Sam could hear them next door giving water to someone else, the newly circumcised girl.

  Resisting the temptation to beg, she listened to another whispered argument. She must have convinced them. Superstitious people, afraid of witches, wouldn't risk a spell from a white witch, would they? They were young, likely to be gullible. The discussion continued. Sam got more nervous as time passed. The girl who spoke English put her head around the door. She wore a triumphant look on her face.

  ‘If you are a witch, why can’t you use a spell to escape?’

  ***

  When she spotted Fergus and Ned sitting on the porch, Fatimata stopped halfway across the yard and tried to sneak back out the gate. There was something pathetic about a person in a dress that could have served as a circus tent trying to be inconspicuous in a yard with no cover and a couple of chickens. Fergus stood up and beckoned her to join them. The fact that she seemed surprised that they noticed her made the whole scenario comical, despite the circumstances. She touched her chest and raised her eyebrows in question as if to say, ‘Who me?’

  ‘Fatimata, please come here. I need to talk to you.’

  ‘I have forgotten I have to look after my sister today and can’t come to work.’

  ‘Please don’t lie to me. I need your help and you know what this is about.’

  ‘I can’t help you, Mr Fergus.’ She had not
moved from the centre of the yard. ‘You must understand.’

  ‘Fatimata, I still need to talk to you. Please come here.’

  Fergus stood up and moved to the steps in one fluid movement. Before she could flee, he was at her side and he had her arm in a vice-like grip. Her eyes filled with tears and her chin quivered.

  ‘I don’t want to. Please don’t make me.’

  ‘Would you prefer me to let Sam die?’

  ‘You don’t understand. I can’t do it.’

  ‘You’re right. I don’t. Please come to the house and talk to me. I need you to explain to me what’s going on. You can’t escape from your past any more. It’s not just your life at stake.’

  Her resistance evaporated and she wilted a little, the defiance ebbing away as he manoeuvred her up the porch and into the sitting room. She walked past Ned as if he didn’t exist. Ned stood up to follow them in, but Fergus shook his head, shutting the screen door behind them.

  Fatimata sat on the sofa which wrapped around her like an arm chair. She wept, big raw ugly sobs which had been locked into her chest for ten years. Fergus handed her a drying up cloth which was hanging over the back of a chair. She wiped her face and blew her nose into it, panting with emotion.

  Fergus did not speak. Sitting on an armchair, he pulled it close to the sofa. He waited for the waves to break on the shore and calm into ripples. Reaching out, he took one of her plump hands and patted it, before massaging her palm with his thumb.

  Ned had stayed standing out on the porch. When Fatimata cried, he moved to the hammock out of her line of sight. Fergus could still see his agitated breathing through the material. He took a deep breath and spoke to Fatimata in his caramel voice, honed over the many years of seduction.

  ‘Now then, Fatou, what’s this all about?’

  Chapter XIV

  Eight months into the conflict the rebel forces were approaching Fona. Paramount Chief Joseph Sesay fretted, at his wit’s end with worry. It was his responsibility to protect the town from the rebels, but he could not offer any protection to his people, despite all of his hereditary power. Rumours circulated about the horrors that had been perpetrated in villages that had been overrun. The ruthless savagery of these disenfranchised men had resulted in a wave of rape and pillage