Arusha, Tanzania, 1985
Lost in thought, Samuel climbed three flights of stairs to unlock the door to his and Lily’s one-bedroom apartment. He paused a moment at the door to arrange a smile on his face. No use in getting Lily upset. She was good at reading his moods, maybe even his thoughts, though just considering this possibility made him shudder. He had been thinking obsessively for the past few weeks about what to do to protect their baby girl.
He hesitated in the doorway. Lily was not there to greet him with Annika in her arms. There were no smells of dinner, which Lily had never failed to have ready at the end of his long hours at the Kibo Palace Hotel. He heard only the sounds that drifted up from the swarm of tuk-tuks, motorbikes, and the occasional auto in the street three stories below. As he closed the door behind him and slid the bolts on both locks, the clicks echoed in the silent apartment. His smile was replaced by tight lips and a clenched jaw.
Samuel stood still, moving only his eyes. He had learned to do this as a boy, hunting the lion with the men of his village. He took in the kitchen area--a wooden table and two chairs, a hot plate on the counter. Three baby bottles stood in neat alignment on the drying rack near the sink. He glanced at the sparsely furnished living room. At the line of bright pillows arranged to dress up the rescued sofa. The plush toy elephant rested on a pink and yellow blanket folded neatly at one end. A framed photograph and a lamp on an end table. Everything was as usual, clean and tidy, the way Lily kept it.
He was momentarily reassured by the smells of baby lotion and cleaning fluid, but his thoughts raced, searching for the meaning of the undisturbed silence. One leg quivered as he held his muscles taut, ready. Something wasn’t right. He had thought there would be more time to make a decision. More time to make a convincing plea to Lily. More time to keep his family safe.
A muffled cry made him open his eyes wide. He turned his head toward the bedroom. Taking two silent strides into the kitchen, he opened a drawer and lifted out the sharp knife Lily used for cutting up a chicken. Another brief cry floated from the bedroom.
"Lily! Where are you?" His lips and mouth were dry, his voice hoarse.
"I'm here," Lily said, letting out a high-pitched squeal. Like a young zebra, he thought, caught in the jaws of the lion.
He pulled the closet door open, the knife held ready above his head. Lily and Annika were on the floor half-hidden beneath the clothes. The baby’s skin glowed in the dim light, as white as the bleached cloths Samuel had spread on tables that day in the hotel dining room, as white as the snow they could sometimes glimpse at the top of Mt. Kilimanjaro. The chubby-cheeked child looked up at him, a smile forming on her face with tears still visible in her violet-blue eyes. "Ba," she cried, lifting her hands in the air so he would pick her up.
Samuel placed the knife on the floor and took the child into his arms, hugging her close to his chest. He helped Lily stand up. "Lily! Are you hurt? Sick? Is Annika sick?"
"No, no. But they are coming, Sam. They are coming!” Panting for breath, she grasped his arms. Her eyes shone with crazed determination. “They must not find our baby, Samuel. We must leave here. They will come in the night. Or when you are at work. We must leave here now."
"Please be calm, my love. Tell me what has happened." As he pulled Lily close to him and the baby, he felt Lily soften a little. "Don't worry now, my love. Everything will be okay. I will keep you safe." He kissed Lily on one smooth, bronze cheek. “Tell me what has frightened you so.”
Lily tipped her chin back to look her husband in the eye. “Everything is not okay. Cannot be okay. You must listen to me now, Samuel.” She paused and closed her eyes for a few seconds. Then her words came in a rush. “Cousin Latifa came in secret to tell me. She was here only two minutes. Her husband has betrayed us! His mind is only on money.”
“Rafiki.” Samuel’s brow furrowed in a frown. Anger flooded every muscle of his body.
“Our Annika is valuable to him,” said Lily. Will make him very rich. Or very lucky," she added, bringing one hand up to cover her trembling lips.
Samuel murmured, “I’ve never really trusted him.” How had Rafiki afforded a new motorbike and a leather jacket? And a new set of cooking pots for Latifa?
Samuel shook his head as Lily looked away. He would not re-open that argument now. He knew Lily had not wanted to believe anything bad about her cousin’s husband.
Lily gently placed her hand on Samuel’s cheek. "Please, Sam. Please listen to me. Latifa said Rafiki went to see a healer--a witch doctor--just outside the city. And then she overheard him talking to some bad men to do . . . terrible things. Please! They will come. This is true. I know it is true."
The baby was bumping her forehead into Samuel's and giggling. He gently bumped heads a few times and then kissed the woolly blond hairs on Annika’s head, marveling for the thousandth time that this fair, precious child was their flesh and blood. He hadn’t known he could love so deeply. That he could feel so connected to another human being. They will not touch one hair of your head, my little beauty. I will keep you safe.
He got Lily to sit down next to him on the sagging sofa and handed the plush white elephant to Annika, who nestled between them. He had bought the toy at the hotel gift shop the day after she was born ten months ago. It had become her favorite, a comfort as she had her bottle of milk before going to sleep.
Everything was happening so quickly. Drums pounded in Sam’s ears. He pressed both hands over his eyes for several seconds.
"Be calm now and listen to me, please, my love.” He took a deep breath and exhaled. “During these past weeks, I’ve been talking to a guest at the hotel, a doctor from England. He asked me about the politicians in our country and about their beliefs in buying luck and wealth from our witch doctors. I’ve told him what is true. That many in our villages, and our cities too, believe in the old medicine, in the lies. And I . . . I told him about Annika.”
"You told him? Why would you tell a stranger about her?” Lily stared at him with her mouth open in disbelief.
Annika crawled onto Samuel’s lap and clapped her hands. Samuel and Lily laughed and clapped their hands too. They were rewarded with a chortle and a wide smile on their daughter’s face.
Samuel took another deep breath. “Please, Lily. Let me explain.” Lily would not meet his eyes. “Some time ago, the doctor showed me an article in his newspaper about the zeru zeru here. It was a shocking piece on the mutilation and murder of these children from a village just a few miles outside Arusha. White children.” He paused and glanced at his wife. “Like Annika.”
Lily put her hands up to her ears. “No! You must not speak aloud of these things. You will bring us bad luck. Very bad luck.”
At that moment, he felt vomit rising from his stomach. He swallowed the sour bile.
“The doctor is European, but he knows all about this special kind of whiteness.” Samuel placed his hand on Annika’s head. He tried to smile at her as she sucked on an ear of the toy elephant.
Lily brought her hands down from her ears. She didn’t look at him, but Samuel knew she was listening.
“The doctor said that in his country--in England--it is not dangerous to be so white like Annika. And Lily . . . he may be able to help us." He wanted to say more, but he feared Lily’s reaction.
In the next moment, Lily’s words jumped out of her throat, harsh and loud, startling them both. “How? How can he help? Just tell me, Sam, why would a white man help us?"
Samuel hesitated, blinking his eyes several times. "He thinks--” Again, Samuel heard the drums pounding in his ears. He took a deep breath and continued. “He thinks he can get Annika on a flight to England with you as her nurse." He steeled himself to listen to his wife’s reply.
"Her nurse?” Lily scoffed in a way that sounded like a water buffalo’s snort. “What nonsense is this, Samuel? Listen to yourself. England? What would we do in England? Shall we visit the queen? Drink tea at the palace? And where would you be?"
“I will follow--later.”
“Later?” She stared at him, a fierce light burning in her eyes.
“I have to get a visa first, but--”
“A visa? And what about me?” Lily’s voice was high and tight as if she were being strangled.
“The doctor can get you a special ticket on an NGO classification. For an emergency, he said. He understands the danger here for our daughter. He may be able to arrange a ticket. If we agree.”
Lily folded both arms over her chest, hugging her shoulders. "What are you saying? Leave our home? Our families? That is not possible. No. No. No."
"In England, no one cares about another white face. They have a scientific way to explain this kind of whiteness, and everyone believes it. Our daughter can live a normal life without fear. Listen, Lily, Annika can even go to school, have a future."
"No. No. We cannot leave our country and . . . everything. How would we live among the white people? They do not even see us."
"That's not true, Lily. I talk to such people every day at the hotel. They are like any people. Some are kind and generous. Some are rude and selfish. I am not afraid of them."
Lily looked into her husband's eyes. Her voice was calmer now, but her dark eyes flashed as she spoke. "You are not afraid. You are a man. But how can I, an African woman, hold up her head in such a place? I cannot do this, Samuel."
Annika had tired of the elephant and was fussing. Lily stood and lifted her from Samuel’s arms, positioning her on one hip. She began to sway back and forth to a rhythm known to all mothers for soothing babies.
"But you know that what cousin Latifa said is true,” Samuel said. “They will come for our daughter. Sooner or later. I cannot even think about what that means, but I know it’s pure evil.”
He would not tell Lily of the pictures in the article that Dr. Oliver had shown him. Images of small children found lifeless, their limbs severed with machetes. Their mutilated bodies ransacked for their magical organs and left lying on dark stains of their blood. Samuel had not wanted to look at the images, but when he did, he could not help staring at the children’s white hair and skin, thinking about their innocence.
Lily paused her swaying for a moment and looked at her husband, her eyes wide. “I have an idea. Listen, Samuel. We can go away! We can escape from these monsters. Perhaps Dar es Salaam. Or the lake island we have heard about to the north. Annika would be safe there.”
Samuel heard the mixture of hope and desperation in her voice. Everything inside his body was shaking like a volcano about to erupt. He willed himself to speak calmly. “We could go to another town, another city, but we can’t keep Annika hidden forever. This problem will follow us wherever we go in this country. Many people believe this nonsense about their bones, their fingers, their hair. Lily, you know what happens."
He turned his eyes away from her and bowed his head. He had not wanted to speak so harshly to his wife. He had not wanted to remember the images from the newspaper.
Annika had found the bright yellow beads around Lily's neck and was putting them in her mouth. "No, no, my sweet babe. I will get you something good to eat." Lily took a few quick steps and stood behind the kitchen counter. Samuel knew she was thinking about what he had said.
"Tell me more about this white doctor," Lily said with a dark frown.
"Oliver. His name is Dr. Oliver. He is a doctor for babies and children in London, and he has been here in Africa for two months to treat children.” Lily was humming to Annika as she fixed dinner. Samuel added, “He is a good man, Lily.” He glanced at her to gauge her reaction.
Lily tipped her head to one side as she looked at him. “You don’t know this man. How do you trust him so easily?”
Samuel picked up the toy elephant from the floor and held it. “Dr. Oliver has requested to sit always in my section at breakfast and dinner. He asked me many questions about our life here. Not just about safari tours and Big Five animals like most European guests. And he told me a lot about what it’s like in England. About great stone castles and blankets of snow in the winter on all the houses and fields. He has been patient when I have been most busy taking care of other guests. And always generous.”
Samuel paused, trying to read Lily’s expression. Why had he put off speaking to her for all these weeks? What if it was too late? Why can’t I just make a decision like a man?
“He and his wife are leaving soon to return to England. He can take you and Annika with him. They’ll help us find a place to live. He will help me find a job."
Lily was shaking her head. "This sounds like a nice story. A story for little children. A story that cannot be true." She stared at him from the kitchen. "Real people cannot enter a storybook, Sam."
A sharp knock sounded on the front door of the apartment.
Samuel stood, his eyes wide as he looked at his wife and child. She looked back at him and put her hand up to her mouth.
His shoulders tightened. He motioned for Lily to take Annika into the bedroom and followed her in. The knock sounded again. Lily whimpered softly as she sat beneath the clothes, clutching Annika against her chest.
He closed the closet door and picked up the knife from the floor where he had dropped it earlier.
Moving silently to the front door, he gripped the worn handle of the knife behind his back. His breaths came fast and shallow as he stood alert, one ear pressed to the door. Surely Rafiki would not come so boldly to take his daughter . . .
He waited. Beads of sweat dripped into his eyes. No more knocks came, but he heard the rustle of paper. And then footsteps heading down the hall to the stairs.
When a few minutes had passed in silence, he cracked open the door. Then he opened it a little wider. He grabbed an envelope from the floor, shut the door, and slid the bolts on the locks. He rested his forehead against the doorframe for a few seconds, trying to calm his breathing.
"It’s okay. You can come out," he called to Lily. “It is just a letter. From Dr. Oliver, I think.”
Without a word or a look at her husband, Lily walked to the kitchen, with Annika perched on her hip. She began pulling leftovers out of their small fridge.
Samuel tore open the envelope, imprinted with the name of the Kibo Palace Hotel, and looked at the neatly printed words in English. He gave silent thanks to his teachers at the School of St. Jude and read:
Our flight leaves at 10:00 on Friday morning. If you have made your decision, I will meet you outside the hotel entrance at 6:30 that morning. All necessary arrangements are in place. It is for the best, my friend. --Oliver Canfield, M.D.
While Lily heated some stew on the hotplate, Samuel read her the doctor’s note. She said nothing. She was still silent as they sat down to eat. Holding Annika on her lap, she spooned mashed peas and yams into the child’s eager mouth, smiling at her, encouraging her.
Samuel waited for Lily to say something as he pushed the stew around on his plate. Lily was a woman who could think for herself. He couldn’t hurry her. Her silence, he decided, was a good sign. In his mind’s eye, he could almost see her sorting what she had heard into buckets of truths and lies, measuring the weight of each. He loved her for that. He knew that she might still decide that this opportunity was a lie. But he also knew that her animal instinct to keep their child safe would win out. The deep instinct of a lioness with her cub would throw the buckets of truths and lies into confusion.
“This Friday?” Lily scoffed. “That is not possible.” She kept her eyes focused on Annika, her chin raised, and her mouth set in defiance.
“But it’s a chance, Lily, a chance for Annika. We can’t live like this, afraid every minute for our child. I’m working, worrying about you both, all the day long. Sometimes, I think I’ll go crazy worrying. A crazy man in a crazy world,” he mumbled as he ran his hand over his closely cropped head.
For one moment Samuel considered dropping to his knees in front of her. He would beg her to save his child. But when he looked up, he saw his own fear and desperation mirrored in Lily’s eyes. No longer defiant or stubborn. No longer weighing the buckets of truths and lies. He knew what to say now. “Annika is not safe here. We must do this to save her life.”
Lily placed a final spoonful of food into Annika’s mouth, then wiped her daughter’s chin. She was sobbing quietly. "But how do you know we’ll be safe with this man? If Rafiki, one of our own family, can betray us, anyone--especially a white man--can do the same.”
Tears shone on Lily’s cheeks. Samuel got up from his seat, pulled his chair next to hers and placed his arm around her shoulders.
“Lily, I love you and Annika with everything that’s in me. It’s my duty to keep my family safe. I trust this man to help us.”
She leaned her head against his chest in wordless submission. Tears dampened her husband’s shirt.
* * *
Two days later, the taxi, a rusted, mustard yellow Toyota of indeterminate age, beeped again in the stillness of the early morning.
"Why, Sam? You must come to the airport with us.” Lily's eyes pleaded with her husband even as she raised her chin like a recalcitrant child.
"Lily, I must show up at work. They will be expecting me. Come, we’ll ride together to the hotel. We’ll meet the doctor there. The taxi is waiting."
Annika began fussing, and Lily's attention turned to the child. She looked around the apartment to be sure she had packed everything she and the baby would need for the journey. Bottles and baby formula, a blanket and sweaters, diapers and creme. Before walking out the door, she picked up a framed photo of herself and Samuel. In the picture, she was holding Annika, a tiny bundle swaddled in a soft blanket. The photo had been taken by the kind nurse at the Mount Meru Hospital just after Annika was born ten months ago. Lily slipped it into a side pocket of the diaper bag that was already full to overflowing.
The taxi smelled of cigarette smoke and sweat. Samuel saw Lily's eyes fill with tears as they pulled into the road, but she managed to hold them back. The time for crying was done.
She turned her head toward Samuel, who held Annika and the beloved toy elephant. She watched as he kissed the tiny heart-shaped birthmark—the only bit of color on Annika’s body—at the nape of her neck. Annika patted her father’s face, her transparent violet-blue eyes looking directly into the deep brown of his, her expression serious as if asking a question.
"What will you tell people?” Lily asked. “You must not give cousin Latifa away."
"No, no. I wouldn’t do that. I’ll say you’ve gone away with Annika to get her eyes fixed. That’s partly true anyway."
A few minutes later, they were at the Kibo Palace Hotel, where Samuel had worked six days a week for the past three years. He helped Lily out of the car and placed Annika into her arms. He saw the doctor was already waiting there with his wife. Oliver Canfield, a tall, slim man in his fifties, wore an unwrinkled tan suit with a starched white shirt and blue striped tie. His neatly brushed graying hair and trimmed beard gave him a look of authority. He and his wife were waiting with their baggage among the white columns that graced the hotel entrance. A shuttle van stood in the driveway.
"I’m Oliver Canfield, and it is my pleasure to meet you and your daughter," the doctor said to Lily in crisp British English. "I am sorry we meet under such circumstances, but you are doing the brave thing for the sake of your daughter." He smiled at her and Annika.
Lily tried to smile back as she studied his face. She wondered if he were hiding something behind his beard. Or if white men somehow smiled differently.
“And this is my wife, Charlotte Canfield.”
Lily turned to her, a petite, blondish woman, perhaps ten or more years younger than her husband. She was thin with an angular face. She wore a floral print dress with a short cotton jacket and white, heeled shoes.
“Hello,” Lily managed to say.
“Pleased to meet you.” Charlotte nodded her head and gave a small, tight-lipped smile. She glanced at Annika but said nothing.
Samuel helped place Lily's battered suitcase in the back of the shuttle and then came around to hug his wife and daughter. "I will come as soon as I can," he whispered. "Be safe, my darlings." He felt his throat closing up and was unable to say another word. He blinked his eyes several times as he pulled the van's door shut. Standing outside the hotel entrance, he watched as the people he loved most in the world disappeared into morning traffic.
Surely, he had done the right thing, the brave thing? He was remembering the time when he was eleven when a lion had killed a man of their village during the night. It was Samuel who had found the old uncle partially eaten in the early morning. Samuel’s father had allowed his son to go with the party of men to hunt that lion. Samuel had been full of pride to accompany them. A few hours later, when the lion was brought down a mile or so from the village, it was wounded but still alive. Blood seeped from its stomach and spread into a dark red stain beneath the animal, a fascinating and indelible image for eleven-year-old Samuel.
Samuel watched as his father sliced through the beast’s tawny hide at its neck with a machete. He wanted to cry out, even to save the big animal. He heard his father then, speaking to him in a low tone that no one else could hear. “Lisilo budi hutendwa”--whatever should be done has to be done.
Samuel put away the memory. Now he must hurry to change into his uniform—a short white jacket trimmed with an orange and black African print and a round hat in matching fabric that sat atop his head. He swallowed hard and silently repeated his father’s words, Lisilo budi hutendwa.
