Ssemande

Ssemande

Nana?

yes, Ssemande, it's me

Nana, i don't have a job, the kids are hungry, they're afraid, we need you Nana

Ssemande, it's too much for Nana, you know that. i care for the other seven, i can't have any more. and you, Ssemande, you are a big boy, you are already nine

yes, Nana. but Mandi and Assami, they cry and ask for mama and they are hungry, Nana

tell me about your days, Ssemande

we took some small banana trees to plant here on the hill where we found an empty house at the end of the road. the long road where they put mama. Mandi takes care of the grave, he brings the flowers we find on the ground in the market when he sweeps. the biggest banana tree is strong, and when the fruit came, i made banana liquor and i sold it in the village. we fixed up the house with the money. Nana, we need you

tell me about the house, Ssemande

it's big with two windows and a door that opens and closes. we sleep together on a bed made of some hay we found behind the house, and we covered it with cloth from the big street. the walls look like the walls in your house, with newspaper pictures from the world in words i don't understand. Nana, i don't want to be here. at night, when we hear noises behind the house, on the hill, we are afraid and we hold each other tight!

tell me about the hill, Ssemande

from here you can see Kigali. in the morning there is fog, like a sheet it covers the city, and then the sun comes up. it is dry, Nana, nothing is green. as soon as the fog comes up, Assami goes to the river Pagantiti to look for water for the trees and for cooking. Nana, we are hungry!

tell me what you cook, Ssemande

whatever i find, Nana. we go to the market every day, we beg and we get something. we look under the stalls, and in the garbage cans and every day we have just enough

on the way home, we look for wood that we burn in the kitchen, next to the sleeping room. at night i light a fire and i make a soup with everything we found, like mama used to make. sometimes we have enough for tomorrow. and sometimes we get a belly ache. Mandi always cries and grabs his belly. what if he gets sick like mama, Nana?

tell me about your work, Ssemande

yesterday i went to Ingabire's farm. i worked all day. Ingabire lost his family at the war. he scares me Nana! his face is full of red lines where he was cut, and one of his eyes is always closed. i worked all day long, from sunup and i came home so tired, and i walked in the dark on the long road where the spirits call me. some of the spirits make fun of me, but mama and auntie Yvonne sing to me and make me strong and help me find the house in the dark. when I got home, the kids were asleep without dinner, Nana. it was so cold, the hill gets cold at night, cold like an empty belly. Ingabire gave me two sweet potatoes and told me he had no money. If I only had a bike, i could do more work, my life would be so easy

tell me about the bike, Ssemande!

the other day i had the visit of many mzungis*. i don't know where they came from. the ladies were strange, with hair the color of hay. when i opened the door i thought it was a dream. mrs. Kirenga told me they were coming to visit us. the night before i made myself a new broom with the branches from the tree, and i got the house ready. i swept outside and inside, like mama always did. i cleaned out the ashes from the fire in the kitchen. i covered the bed and made it pretty. and then i waited

when i opened the door, many ladies were crying but i don't know why they were sad. i didn't understand their language, but mrs. Kirenga translated what i said, and the mizungi cried some more. when Mandi came out, a lady with gold hair picked him up and held him in her arms, the way mama did, Nana. they asked what i did and i told them about the banana tree and the cooking and i showed them our house. they asked a lot of questions, Nana

tell me how you behaved, Ssemande

we were good, Nana. when i showed them the view they cried a lot. mrs. Kirenga said they were asking if i wanted anything

i told them i wanted nothing but needed something. if i had a bicycle, i could work bringing fruits to people, do other jobs, and get home in time to make dinner

a bicycle is very expensive, Ssemande!

Nana! but they said they would bring me one, and that these ladies would be like our mommas, nana, even if they live very far away. she said they will fix our house, build a bathroom in the back on the hill, and two places to sleep, one just for me because I'm the big brother. and a big room in the front so we can set up a shop. mrs. Kirenga was crying too, because ever since mama was sent to the grave, she visits us all the time

you see, my boy, all alone, all that you have done!

you cry, Nana?

tears of joy, my grandson, tears of joy

*white people

©Liliana Noemi Nealon