All their reactions were making Kimberly nervous. She didn’t like how everyone was taking a second and third look at her after seeing the photo. She looked at Hussein for reassurance. He was looking at her as if he could read her mind. He smiled at her, but it was a small smile and she could not return it.
“Are you sure you are not related to her?” Grace asked Kimberly. She dragged her eyes from Hussein to look at her.
“I don’t know her. It is a coincidence. There is a saying that we all have our twin in some other part of the world. Mine happens to be white.”
“Your skin colour is not far from white yourself,” Grace observed.
“I am not white, my mother is Akan and my father was –he is Ga.”
“I believe you,” Mati said, “though you do look a lot like Annie.”
“Thank you,” Kimberly smiled a tight smile.
“I’m sorry for putting you on the spot,” Grace apologised.
“These pies that Rueda made are delicious,” Mister Quansah commented.
“Yes,” his wife responded. “It’s been such a long time since I had home baked pastries. I’ll ask Rueda to give me the recipe for them.”
“Rueda is very protective of her recipes,” Jessica warned, “but good luck convincing her.”
“I’ll take my leave now, the marshal said, “I left Philip in charge.”
“You better go before he releases all your prisoners,” somebody said and they all laughed. The marshal who was not known for his laughter, smiled a small smile. Just a few days after the police station had been opened, Marshal Abdul Razak had deputised Philip and the new deputy had released the first three prisoners as a celebration for his new position. It had been a funny yet serious act. Because Philip was new to the job, the marshal had let him off with a stern warning while he looked for a more convenient deputy. Six months later and he was yet to find any.
“If there are any prisoners to talk of,” the marshal replied. In a town like Mapungi, there was rarely anybody worth throwing into a cell, everybody was busy trying to earn a living. The only ones who ever saw the insides of the cells were the occasional drunks who got themselves into trouble. It made his work easier. He stood up, said his goodbyes and made for the door.
“Would you mind if I tag on your ride back to town?” The Reverend asked. “I arrived with Quansah but it does not look like they will be leaving any time soon.”
“Sure Reverend,” the marshal said.
One after the other the guests began to leave. When they were all gone, Jessica helped Mati to her room after she began to complain of fatigue, while the rest helped Rueda clean up. The housekeeper was so tired she did not even protest the help.
When everything was cleaned up, Rueda said her goodbyes and went out to the veranda to wait for Charlie who was designated to drive her home. Kimberly joined her on the veranda to breath in the fresh night air and clear her mind. She still was not used to the stillness of the nights in Mapungi.
“Is there a question you want to ask me?” Mati asked when Kimberly started fidgeting.
“Yes,” she said. “Do you think it’s just a coincidence that I have such a strong resemblance to Annie Smith? I mean, it must be just a coincidence, right?”
“Do you want to know what I think?”
“Yes.”
“I think it’s something you should not worry about. If you had any family anywhere else, I’m sure your parents would have mentioned them. In this world, strange things happen all the time. It is not our place as human beings to have answers to every strange occurrence.”
Kimberly wanted to argue that point. But why, she asked herself. Rueda was right. It was not her place to have answers to every strange occurrence in the world, even if she felt it in her soul that this was no coincidence. Was it possible that her ancestors had once lived here? That they had also worked these fields under the unforgiving Mapungi sun?
But Mati had said that Annie Smith had been white and her father had owned a mansion and had servants. No, she was not related to anyone she did not know of.
“My ride is here,” Rueda said when Charlie finally arrived with the truck. “Listen to my advice. Don’t worry your pretty head over something you do not have any control over. Take care of yourself.”
As the truck disappeared into the darkness, Kimberly’s agitation increased. She wanted to be as far away from this house and its tales as possible.
“A penny for them.” She jumped at the voice behind her. Hussein caught her before she could lose her balance. “Careful,” he said, “no need to fall for me so fast.” He grinned
Kimberly chuckled at his joke. “Thanks for the reminder,” she said after he let go of her.
“Are you worried you might?” he asked.
“Nope, I’ve got my head in all the right places.”
He remained quiet for a few minutes and Kimberly studied him covertly from under her lashes. His profile was mostly hidden by the darkness around them but the light from the house angled some parts of his face. She could tell that he was deep in thoughts.
When he spoke up, he asked, “Are you worried by the picture? Do you think there is a connection?”
“No,” she said, “there is no connection.”
He stretched out his hand to her. In his hand was the photo. “I noticed you did not take a look at it,” he said when she looked at him questioningly.
“Looking at it won’t change anything.”
“No, it won’t. Take it.” He urged her.
She took the photo. She looked at the coloured print. Then she looked again, unable to take her eyes off the woman in the shot. The vivid green eyes held hers like a prison. The smile was so wide and very much alive and contagious, even in a hundred-year-old photo.
It was like looking at a white version of herself without the green eyes and wavy hair and the smile that looked like it had never been lost even for a moment. Kimberly wanted to say something to break the spell that had come over her, but her voice had fled without notice and she could only stare at this woman who dared her to deny what her heart professed.
“She is unique,” she finally said and handed the photo back to Hussein. “But it still doesn’t change anything.”
“Of course not,” Hussein said. He moved closer and took her hands in his. Her hands were stiff and cold though the night air was warm. “You don’t have to change anything if it makes you happier.”
“There is nothing to change. It would be nice to have a great-grandmother like you and Jessica do, but I have all the family I need. I don’t need to take on any more.”
“A family is not a burden. They are the people who will always have your back no matter what. They are the people who will stick with you through thick and thin and encourage you every step of the way.”
“You have a wonderful family, Hussein and I also have mine. No two families are the same. I am not saying that having a family is a burden. All I am saying is that I just don’t need any more family. Dead or alive.”
“Everyone can use an extra support.”
“Not me.”
He wanted to ask her if she ever planned to get married. If she would ever want a family of her own, but he dared not ask. He did not want to know the answer to those questions, not just yet. But he had faith that things would work out for the best. Even if she was not aware of it.
He believed that God had brought her here, and into his life, for a reason. Did the bible not say that God makes a way where there seems to be no way? And his own mother had drummed it into his head that no situation under the sun was ever permanent. So, instead of prolonging a futile argument with her, he held her close and said, “Family has always been part of our upbringing as Mubaraks. It was always the basis on which we formed every other relationship. Recently, it’s been narrowed to just Mati, Jessica and me, but when I start a family of my own, it’s going to be as large as possible.”
“You and Jessica have a way of making family sound like something to live for. Watching her and Mati alone makes me wonder how it feels to have a great-grandmother. I’ve never seen her so happy.”
“Yes, she and Mati are very close. When we were growing up, they were inseparable. They both share a love for storytelling, and it was therefore no surprise that she decided to become a writer herself.”
“What about you? Who were you close to in your family?”
“I’ll say my grandfather, but then, he was close to all his grandchildren. Jessica and I became closer though after the war. It was the only way to move forward.”
“Did you fight in the war?” she asked solemnly.
“No.” For a long time he had felt guilty about that. He had been away studying while his family and townsmen went away to fight in a war they did not understand. And yet, he was the one who was here living the life that they should have been living. But he had gotten over his guilt and moved on. As had many other people in town who had lost their families and friends in the war.
“Can I tell you something I’ve been thinking about?”
“Yes.”
“I want to build a school here in Mapungi so that the children in the town won’t have to stay at home or work in the fields or play in the dirt. Many of the people I talked to in town said they wanted their children to go to school but the nearest school is too far away and that is dangerous for their children.”
“That is a great idea,” Hussein said, “but you will need land to build the school.”
“Do you know a good place I can buy?”
He was silent for a while. “Most of the lands here are owned by Faroukis,” he said. Kimberly detected a note of distaste in his voice.
“Is that a bad thing?” she asked.
“I don’t trust them,” he said simply. “No one should.”
“Is there any other option?”
“We have some land,” he said, “but it is not well located for a school.”
“So, the Faroukis it shall be,” Kimberly said. “Who are they anyway?”
“They own the neighbouring fields.”
“So, you are neighbours?”
“I would not put it that way.”
“Why not?”
“Let’s not talk about them, okay. I want to have dinner with you again. And again. And again, and again. What do you say?”
“I say yes again and again and again and again.”
He kissed her lightly on her lips. “Do you see why I had the feeling that we were going to be very good friends?” His grin was wide and knowing.
Kimberly laughed at the memory. “I did not disagree, did I?”
“Nope, you didn’t.”
