Chapter 1 – The blond lady
Sayowa pulled herself on the highest branch of the baobab. She took a few seconds to achieve good balance and catch her breath. Her eyes set on her tall legs, hanging from the tree. Slowly, as her respiration became quieter, she started noticing the splashing of the water all around her. She raised her head, turned it left, then right, following with her eyes the two rivers that flowed peacefully on both sides of her island. They merged right in front of her and progressed towards the rising sun, a scarlet disk ascending in the sky, mixing the blue-grey reflections of the water with red.
In geography class, the teacher had taught her that an invisible point existed, there, in the water, were four countries met. Four different countries! Sayowa’s eyebrows frowned slightly. From where she was, the left shore of the river did not seem that different from the right shore. But the teacher had said four countries and her grand-father had confirmed.
She noticed a big bird gliding slowly toward the horizon. She gazed at it, asking herself what it could see from up there, where it was going…
A bell rang in the distance and pulled her out of her daydreaming. She stood up carefully, spread her arms for balance and pivoted, turning her back to the river and the sun. She stretched her neck to catch a glimpse of the school's red buildings, visible between some far away trees. She was late.
Using her hands and feet, she swung adroitly from branch to branch until she reached the trunk. She climbed it down, helped by small steps hollowed directly out in the bark. She jumped the last three, landed on her knees in the orange sand, raised, dusted her skirt, gave a last stare to the river, took a deep breath and started running at full speed in the opposite direction.
In a flash she crossed the village, skimming passed the mud-houses, jumping over the chickens. She sprinted between the trees, flew over the bridge, glided on the gravel of the main road and finally arrived in sight of the school. The sky was red, the five buildings of the school were red, the sand around them was orange. Only a few trees were giving a touch of green to the scene. Not a soul, everyone was already in.
She stopped running ten metres from the door of her classroom and continued walking, as she adjusted the light blue shirt of her uniform into her purple skirt. With a small leap, she left the sand for the concrete doorstep. As she raised her hand towards the handle, she noticed dust on her sandals. She stopped her motion and sucked her teeth. After a moment, she shrugged her shoulders, pushed the door and entered.
The classroom was bathing in half-light: it was a rectangle of bare concrete, which side walls were pierced by three large windows each. The sun was not high enough to penetrate through their broken panes. On the right, a blackboard was facing a bulletin board with no bulletin. Ten tables, arranged in three rows, hosted twenty pupils. All were wearing the same uniform as Sayowa. In front of them, a women with a round head, hairs spiked in afro style, whose chest and hips were challenging the seams of an elegant suit, had her head turned towards the latecomer.
– Sayowa, how nice of you to join us! said the teacher.
The class sniggered.
– I am sorry bo muluti.
Soyowa gave a cold stare to her classmates and sat at a first row table, by herself. Her back was straight, her hands crossed on her thighs, her chin high, pointing to the blackboard. There was still murmuring behind her, but she pretended not to hear it. She had grown a lot since the previous year and was now a few good centimetres taller than all these imbeciles, even the boys. They were just imbeciles, idiots.
The teacher had started her lecture. Sayowa tilted her head lightly in the direction of the window. Through the broken glass, she could see the top of a palm tree and the red sky turning orange, and then blue.
Sayowa’s skin was dark, darker than her classmate’s. This emphasized her big almond-shaped eyes, which, with her large nose and her big mouth, gave to her stare an intensity almost intimidating for a girl her age. Her hair was thinly braided, held back by a head-band, showing her forehead, which was taking almost half her face. Her neck was long, her shoulders narrow. She was usually keeping her arms close to her body, her legs tight, giving herself countenance.
After a few hours of a subject Sayowa could not even have named (maths maybe?), the teacher announced:
– Today we have a special guest who is going to tell us about something very important. So be nice and stand up to welcome her.
The chairs and tables roared as the class stood up as one. On their feet, intrigued, Sayowa and her classmates fixed the door. They waited like this for a few seconds.
Slowly, the handle turned, hesitant. The teacher moved forward and opened the door brusquely. The dazzling light coming from outside changed the opening into a big white rectangle, blinding everyone inside. It looked like a gate to another dimension, to a paradise which Sayowa never seriously believed existed until that instant. A creature stood in that other world immersed into sunlight. Sayowa’s heartbeats doubled their intensity. It was an angel! A being of such beauty, such purity, that it would have been a sin to think it could belong to the same world as Sayowa.
The angel was carrying a big white rectangular object. It attempted a step forward but the weight of the object made it tip over backwards. The teacher rushed forward just in time to prevent the fall.
Her large body obstructing some of the lights and Sayowa’s eyes having adjusted to the brightness, a rational inspection of the visitor became possible.
It was actually a woman, who’s skin was bright white, almost transparent, and who’s hair was golden. She was laughing with her mouth wide open, her shiny white teeth visible.
The teacher, ever severe, seized the object which turned out to be a paper-board mounted on a three-legged stool. She placed it in the middle of the room, in front of the blackboard. The blond haired lady followed her and thanked her in the local dialect, bowing and softly clapping her hands twice: “Litumela”.
Sayowa was shaken, it was the first time she saw a white woman.
The lady turned, faced the still standing children and exclaimed as she through her arms towards the ceiling.
– Hello kids! How are you?
– We-are-fine-and-how-are-you?!
The reply came automatically from Sayowa’s mouth at the same time as all her classmate’s.
– I’m super good! I’m so happy to see you! Sit, sit!
New chairs and tables roar, along with some whispers.
The lady was smiling as she waited for the silence to come, looking over-excitedly over every kid’s face.
She then started to speak, very fast, with a loud and high voice.
Words were flying out in a continuous flow, Sayowa was incapable of telling the end of one from the beginning of another. She turned her head slightly and saw that her classmates looked as puzzled as her. As she talked, the lady was making big gestures. She was showing the paper-board on which big blue and green handwritten capital letters spelled: “LIVING A HEALTHY LIFESTYLE”.
On the front row, Sayowa was sitting the closest to the lady. Slowly she became overwhelmed with emotion, confusion. That presence was intoxicating.
It was her smell. She smelled good. An acidulous smell that Sayowa was able to recognize but not to name. That perfume, mixed with the dusty odour of the classroom, took up little by little all of her cognitive abilities.
Apples! She smelled like apples! Green apples, just like mum brought back from the town’s supermarket that one time.
Sayowa’s eyes left the void to lock on the lady. She was so beautiful! She undertook a more detailed observation.
She was a young woman, in her twenties, slightly taller than the teacher. She wore a white fitted dress with big red flowers printed on it. A few discrete blue veins were travelling across her pale arms. Her long golden blond hair made big smooth curls that reflected the light in new ways every time she moved. Surely, they were fine and soft. Her face was also pure white, with red patches on the forehead and nose. An infinitely thin nose aligned perfectly between her small blue eyes. Her stare was switching energetically between the paper-board (of which she had turned a sheet, showing some new writing) and the children's faces. Her pink, tiny lips smiled and moved endlessly.
Sayowa was attentively going over every square centimetres of that woman’s face and body. When she got to the bottom of the dress, which was happily waltzing with every move of her hips, she noticed that she was wearing black ballerinas, which shine was tarnished by sand.
Sayowa leaned on the back of her chair to catch a glance of her own shoes, also soiled. She raised her head towards the lady’s face and smiled. The lady noticed the smile and smiled back to Sayowa as she kept on talking.
What a formidable woman. She must had been coming from far, maybe from America. She must had taken a plane. She had probably bought that dress in a big mall. She was certainly well educated to be able to come and teach things to kids like Sayowa.
The little girl imagined the huge city from where she came, the tall buildings, the cars, the roads, the shops, the restaurants, the parks, the people, well dressed, smart, rich, who were probably taking planes all the time. Her eyes evaded once more.
She was regularly brought back to reality when the part of her brain which was still unconsciously listening to the lady’s speech was noticing a word that she was supposed to repeat. Then, never missing a cue, her voice joined the choir of her classmates to shout: “Condoms!”, “Mosquito net!”. The lady accompanied these moments with conductor moves, she seemed very pleased each time. “Yes!”, “Very good!”, “That’s it!”.
Moments passed this way, during which Sayowa fantasized the blond lady’s entire existence.
A new page of the paper-board flipped.
– All right kids, it is now time for a little surprise!
Those words instantly focused Sayowa’s attention, as well as all of her classmate’s.
– We are going to prepare a delicious meal all together. Who knows what a pizza is?
Sayowa had never heard that word. She examined the board. Bold letters spelled: “Pizza recipe for beginner”. Below, a list of words: “flour, water, salt” etc. This was not helping much.
As she turned her head, she saw with stupefaction that a few of her classmates had raised their hands. What? They knew? No, how could they know this?
The lady pointed out a boy. He stood and said a few words.
– Very good! Exactly! she said.
Sayowa panicked, turned her head towards the lady who was smiling at the boy. She carried on:
– Here is the list of ingredient that we will need to make a pizza. I talked it over with your principal and I will come on Monday with my electric oven which we will be able to plug in his office to bake. We will savour a nice meal all together and we will go over what we talked about today. Are you happy?
– Yeees! replied the kid’s choir.
This time Sayowa didn’t join them. She could not get over her perplexity.
– I need a volunteer for a very important mission.
Sayowa’s body stiffened.
– Who will be in charge of gathering all the ingredients and bringing them back on Monday?
Sayowa’s hand raised so fast her buttocks lifted a few centimetres. The lady turned her head towards her and chuckled.
– Yes? What is your name?
– Sayowa.
– Oh, that’s beautiful. Sayowa, here is the list.
She handed her a notebook page, folded in two. Sayowa grabbed it energetically and squeezed it in her right hand.
– And here is money to buy all that. You must take very good care of it, okay?
Sayowa agreed with some fast head motions.
– If there is any left you must bring it back okay?
– Yes.
The lady put forward an envelope that Sayowa took delicately in her left hand.
– Thank you so much Sayowa, she said with a soft voice.
She flipped to face the class, then the teacher.
– Well…
She walked back to her board, grabbed it with both arms, barely lifted it, stumbling. The teacher got hold of it and placed it firmly under her armpit.
– Class dismissed, you can go home. Don’t make noise when you go out, she said.
– Have a good weekend kids, see you on Monday! added the blond lady as she waved her hand.
Both exited the classroom.
The chairs and tables roared one last time. Exclamations, discussions, singing and dancing erupted in every corner. The children escaped in small groups, paying no attention to Sayowa who remained sited, her hands still holding the piece of paper and the envelope, resting on her thighs. Her heart was beating like it wanted to escape her chest.
Silence fell over the classroom. The realized she was alone. She stood up, exited the room and started running in the direction of the village.
Excerpt from “Recette de pizza pour débutant” © (SACD) Thomas Botte