The Heart of Dkanat
“Jeela!” Ojala cries, leaning out her window. In the darkness behind her, Nkemi catches a glimpse of Peya’s face, her mouth twisted, her cheeks slick and damp; she turns away.
“Jeela,” Nkemi’s eyes are wide. She comes to a stop, breathing hard. She feels the brush of Anetol’s field behind her, and Jeela stops short, staring at him over her shoulder.
“Are you all right?” Nkemi asks in soft, rapid Mugrobi; she is kneeling, meeting the little girl’s gaze. Jeela’s face is damp with tears; at the question, more well up in her eyes. Her dress is torn; Nkemi, something aching in her chest, glances her over, but she sees nothing like bloodstains – only dirt on her side, where perhaps she fell, and scraps and scuffs on her knees and palm.
Aafu is there then, and Nkemi eases back, her lips trembling. Jeela presses herself into her father.
“Jeela,” Njeri says, her voice shaking. “Mother of life, guide us in your hands.”
Nkemi is still crouched in the dusty ground. She breathes in and out, evenly; she draws back.
“You saw him,” Nkemi agrees, softly. Aafu says he believes her; Jeela is sobbing now.
Nkemi glances up; Anetol is behind her, Emeka too. There are faces in every window. She looks back; it does not matter now. She cannot let it matter, not just now.
“You were playing, Jeela?” Nkemi asks.
“I,” Jeela’s eyes flicker to Aafu; her lip trembles.
Nkemi nods intently, looking at her. “Sometimes the truth is very hard,” she says, gently. “We wish to speak, but we don’t know if we will be in trouble if we do.”
Jeela sniffles. Aafu is looking at Nkemi as well; she feels the prickle of eyes all around.
“Sometimes we will,” Nkemi says, evenly, looking at the girl. “This is what makes us brave. It is very easy to speak truth, like walking in the desert at night,” she wipes the dust from her hand, and brushes, gently, tears from Jeela’s cheeks. Jeela’s hands are tight in Aafu’s shirt. “It is a brave girl who can do so even when the sun is very bright."
Jeela sniffles. “I was playing,” she said in a rush. “I did mean to go so far! I was with Osferon and Efedhe, and we were playing, and then I remembered that I left my ball not very far yesterday. But it was further than I remembered,” her lips tremble, “only I had promised to bring it for us to play, so I had to go and find it.”
“You had made a promise,” Nkemi says, solemnly.
Jeela’s head nods; her lips tremble.
“Oh, Jeela,” Aafu lets out a little sigh.
“Where had you left your ball?” Nkemi asks.
“By the canyon,” Jeela goes on, “by the Acacia tree which looks over the edge of the canyon. That is where I saw him!” Her shoulders begin to shake again. “He was coming up the side like – like a ghost!” She begins to cry once more. “I hid so that he would not find me,” Jeela sobs. “I hid for a long time, and then I ran all the way back.”
“You were very brave,” Nkemi says, solemnly.
Aafu holds her close; Nkemi comes away, and rises up to her feet. Njeri is kneeling too, her hand stroking Jeela’s hair.
“Coming out of the canyon,” Nkemi says, her face tight. "A secret path, perhaps." She shakes her head, and she looks back at Emeka once more. She feels all the eyes still; she cannot turn to meet them.
Osferon – the troublemaker – is standing in the shadows; his gaze is fixed on Anetol, his eyes wide, and there is a little smirk on his lips. Nkemi turns, and she looks at him, solemn-faced and her back prefect straight. She meets his gaze, and she holds it.
Osferon looks at her; his small chest heaves. There are bruises on his skinny arm, and a healing welt on the other side.
After a moment, deliberate, Nkemi smiles at him; it is not a bright smile, but a soft one, small and understanding.
Osferon’s gaze snaps down; he glances away, and he eases back into the shadows of the building.
“Ape’on,” Aafu is murmuring, softly.