Radiance of Tomorrow (29 page)

“I am sorry to make you wait for so long. I am Pascal,” a tall man introduced himself. He sat in the chair opposite her and asked for water to be brought to the table.

“Have you ever done anything in the hotel business?” he asked.

“No, but I was a nurse and there are similarities. They both deal with helping and pleasing people, making them feel comfortable,” she said firmly but without raising her voice.

“Mr. Saquee did tell me that you are a very intelligent and strong-willed person.” He laughed encouragingly and continued with many other questions for about thirty minutes.

“So I will employ you on a trial basis for a month. During that time you will work alongside one of the staff so you can see how things are done. I am sure you will catch up quickly.” He extended his hand to end the meeting.

“Thank you very much. I will do my best and I certainly appreciate this opportunity.” Her handshake was firmer than he expected. He seemed surprised.

“You can start in two days. We will have your badge and uniform ready for you then. Please bring a passport photo the next time. I should tell you, though, that you will only get paid at the end of the month. Since you are in training, you won’t be receiving pay every two weeks as the other staff. I know it is expensive to pay your way here and back for a month, but this is all I can offer now.” He nodded to say his final goodbye and walked in the direction of his office.

Kula finished drinking the cold water and called her husband’s mobile phone.

“Hello, dear. I am done.” She smiled. “Okay, I will meet you there in a few minutes.”

She put the phone back in her purse and left to meet her husband by the beach. The cool breeze entered her pores as she neared the ocean, walking with an elegance that distinguished her from many of the other women she passed.

When she saw him, she ran and threw herself in his arms. He held her for a while and kissed her before they started walking arm in arm along the beach barefoot, holding their shoes. They told each other their news. Bockarie, too, had gotten some work to correct papers for university students, or so he had been told, and would start the following day. He didn’t want to anger Mr. Kaifala, who seemed reluctant to explain the details of the job and was in a hurry. The money would be good, though.

“So this Mr. Kaifala really exists and showed up after all.” She took off her head tie to feel the ocean breeze some more.

“Yes, but there is something abnormal that I felt with him. Anyway, it doesn’t matter.” He rolled up his sleeves.

“Your work sounds way more exciting than mine. I am happy for you, dear, for us. It has been too long that you just stayed at home raising our children and me, if I may say so. We have to discuss, though, how to take care of the children.” He kissed her again and used his body weight to push her into the coming waves. She jumped excitedly, laughing.

“Let’s not think about it now, my dear. Let’s just enjoy ourselves, perhaps even buy ourselves a drink at one of these beach bars.” She pointed to a number of them along the sand. He agreed and they chose one and started heading toward it. En route, they saw a man dressed in a long white robe, a big cross dangling on his chest. He was saying some words that didn’t make any sense and in front of him sat a number of women in white robes as well. He would take one of them after making lots of noises and dip her head into the ocean.

“They believe that he can pray for them to have good husbands!” a jogger said as he passed Kula and Bockarie.

“This city has so much to teach one every day. It is as though you are living several lifetimes every time you look around.” Kula looked away at the ocean before turning to her husband again.

“What do you think? Should I go pay him to almost drown me in salt water for a good husband?” She laughed and started running in the sand away from Bockarie.

“Maybe he should dip me in the water so that I can become a good husband. Wait a minute, aren’t I already a good husband?” He chased after her.

“Says who?” She convulsed with laughter as he neared her and threw her in the sand.

They arrived home late that night when everyone was asleep. The night’s air was pleasant on their faces since it seemed the city was opening up to them, showing them what it could provide them.

But the hand of the city is unpredictable, the hand of the country is even more capricious. Often shadows gather around the giving hand and break its fingers, spoiling the gifts.

Tonight, Kula and Bockarie giggled as they entered into their small room and slept in the clothes they had been wearing all day.

16

BOCKARIE WAS DISHEARTENED
on his first day of work after he fully understood what his job entailed. Mr. Kaifala’s operation, as he called it, was really a place that, in collaboration with some college professors, wrote thesis papers for students who could afford to pay for them. Of course, not everyone used this route to get an education, but the whole thing didn’t sit well with Bockarie. He remembered the conversation he had had with Albert, the Fourah Bay College student who wore his ID card around his neck during holidays.

How can the country go forward with such practices?
he asked himself. They were writing theses for people who couldn’t even speak English well but would now have degrees ranging from bachelor to master’s to PhD. The operation even had staff who would go to defend the thesis of their clients under false names and of course with support from the professors they had in their pockets. No one was getting any salaries at the college, so they were open to other options.

“Welcome, my good man. You are on trial for one month to see if you will keep our secret and also if you are able to write excellent papers for us! For now we will only give you money for transportation and for three meals a day. I am sure you learned the saying in school that ‘an empty bag cannot stand upright.’” Mr. Kaifala showed Bockarie to his desk, where work was already waiting in a pile with research notes ready and bound for him to read. He wanted to ask if anyone in his office was really who they said they were. Mr. Kaifala didn’t look like a Kaifala. In fact that morning while he waited in the reception area, two people had referred to Mr. Kaifala as Mr. Cole and Mr. Conteh. He had answered to both names with ease. Bockarie shook these thoughts out of his mind. He had to take care of his family and even the money that he would now get for transportation and meals could help him a lot by getting on the zero-zero-one meal plan and walking home after work. Food would be at home at the end of the day, so he would be able to save all that money for his family. He pulled out a thesis topic for a master’s degree in international relations.

This person will probably never leave this country to do anything international
, he told himself to justify his action. He started reading the research notes and even wrote an opening paragraph. It was not all that bad because he liked using his brain even though this was for the wrong reasons.

At lunchtime, when he stepped outside to get some air, he saw cars with government license plates and young Lebanese getting out of fancy vehicles to pick up parcels from the operation office. There were also regular-looking people like himself who came in for their parcels with sweaty clothes and dusty shoes, a clear sign that they had walked a long way and spent their last cents to get the semblance of an education. Maybe they were intelligent enough for what they were receiving. Who knows what the story was that had brought them to make such a decision. He couldn’t enjoy the breeze with these sights and thoughts, so he returned inside.

At home that evening, he didn’t say anything even to his wife about the reality of his job. He pretended to be happy and gave the money to her for safekeeping and to take care of the family. His children would start classes soon. Bockarie had decided to work for his current employer for only a month, and during that time he would look for something else. What he didn’t know was that the work was so demanding that he wouldn’t have any time to thoroughly search for something else. And in a city where the hand of opportunity did not come by easily, he would need to carefully and cautiously jump from one canoe to another before sounding the doorbell of his values.

*   *   *

The sky was at its bluest, and if you looked closely for a while you could see whatever your imagination thought dwelled beyond the body of the sky. Since the daily activities necessary to survive in the city were stressful enough, people looked at the sky only briefly and mostly set their eyes about themselves and on the earth to gain a strong footing so that the wind of despair didn’t claim them quickly. Kula had looked up every so often to guess the time from the movement of the sun. It was her first day of work, from 3:00 p.m. until 11:00 p.m. She prepared food for the family and allocated chores to her children before getting ready. She would not see her husband until late and that made her slightly sad, but she distracted herself by spending some time with the twins, who were busy crayoning in their coloring books. She and her husband had bought an extra mobile phone that was to be at home for emergencies. She handed it to Miata.

“Is it all right, Mother, for Isatu to come and study with me?” Miata asked.

“Yes, as long as you do not invite boys.” She had a way of sounding funny while being serious. Miata didn’t respond, but Kula knew her words had found a resting place in her daughter’s mind. She hoped.

As soon as Kula left home and got into the transportation vehicle, it started raining heavily. No one was prepared because the words of the sky had said otherwise. Water gushed into the van, thoroughly soaking everyone. The driver handed out small plastic bags so that passengers could at least wrap their mobile phones, money, and other things of value that were enemies of water.

“Water nor to fire me people dem so wunna nor vex,” the driver joked, telling his passengers that water is not fire, my people, so do not get angry. As suddenly as the rain had come, it stopped and the sun brightly lit the soaked earth and beings. There was flooding on the streets on a bright sunny day. After disembarking, Kula called the emergency mobile phone and asked Miata to bring her some dry clothes and shoes that she would need after work because she wasn’t allowed to take her work uniform home. She needed the shoes immediately because the ones she wore were now filled with water and making squishy sounds as she walked up the hill to the hotel.

“Get your brothers to look after the house and come before nighttime. I don’t want you on the street when it is dark,” she instructed her daughter.

“Yes, Mother.” She hung up the phone.
She wouldn’t need me to bring her shoes if we were back in Imperi. She would have just walked home barefoot
, Maita thought and shouted the names of her brothers, who were playing football nearby. They were unhappy about stopping their games and grumbled, but their sister paid them no mind. Isatu decided to accompany Miata.

“But I didn’t tell Mother that you will be coming along,” Miata reasoned with her friend.

“Don’t worry. She will think it is a good idea that I came with you, especially if it gets dark before you return home.” She waved her hand for Miata to hurry up.

Meanwhile, in the staff room, Kula squeezed the excess water out of her wet clothes to be able to use them to somewhat dry her hair. Quickly changing into her uniform, she put on her wet shoes that had refused to release their water. Standing up straight with determination, she went to the front desk to start work. Pascal gave her a quick tour and some instructions. Then he handed her over to another woman whose job was to teach her throughout the eight-hour shift. Her expression wasn’t cordial and she ignored Kula the entire time. Pascal had gone home for the day, so she had no one to turn to. However, she decided to just observe and learn on her own.

A few quiet hours into the shift, a guest came from his room. He was clearly from the country but had been away for a while—or was, as the local parlance referred to him, a “JC” (Jus cam), just returned. Kula’s colleague was on the phone, so he came to her and started shouting.

“I don’t understand how anything works in my room. Everything is in Chinese. This is an English-speaking country, you know. Look at this.” He showed Kula the air-conditioning remote that was all in Chinese. He went on, “I also ordered some cassava leaves and they told me they don’t have any local dishes. But they have some general’s chicken and other Chinese dishes. I would like to speak with the manager.”

Kula looked toward her colleague, who was now off the phone, but she ignored her, leafing through some useless magazine. The Chinese fellow who seemed to run the place from the back came out to the reception area.

“I am the manager and how can I help you, sir?” He edged Kula aside, and it was at that instant that the other receptionist intervened to handle the situation. But the man refused to speak to her, insisting that he must speak to this manager standing in front of him.

“I want some cassava leaves, you know, food from this country.”

“We don’t have a chef for that. So no cassava leaves, okay,” the manager said.

“You mean to tell me in this entire country you cannot find someone who can cook cassava leaves? It is bullshit and you know it.”

“Mister, no bad words here. Please.”

“And get some remote controls that are in English.” He threw the remote on the desk and stalked away. The rest of the evening was quiet. People mostly came to ask for their room keys and dropped them off on their way out. Miata arrived just when her mother was beginning to worry about her.

“I didn’t know you were coming with Isatu,” she said, taking the bag from her, then greeting Miata’s friend.

“I knew it would take a while because of the rain and wanted someone with me in case it got darker, as it is now.” Miata avoided her mother’s eyes.

“It turns out that I am getting off earlier, so please have a seat there in the lounge and we will return home together.” Miata agreed, hiding the disappointment in her face from her mother. She and Isatu had planned on having a little excursion by the beach before returning to the eastern part of the city. Kula observed her daughter and Isatu from behind the reception desk while they drank the Coca-Cola she had bought them. They went on about something that made them laugh, almost choking on their drinks. She turned her eyes to her feet, which were now relieved from the cold shoes, though the stained wetness made her toes itch.