Tanzania at Ten

This was a piece that I wrote for my very first creative writing class. I chose it because this is a true story about a friend of mine that I took great interest in hearing. I look forward to feedback

Olotumi Laizer is known as a Masaai warrior in his village on the Ngorongoro Conservation Area in Tanzania, Africa. At the age of ten, he was living in his father’s village inside of his mothers hut on the outskirts of Mt. Kilimanjaro. His father has six huts on his land that are occupied by his six wives and their children. Olotumi was the first child of thirty-six siblings. In the Masaai culture it is a big responsibility to be the first-born male of the family and Olotumi was expected to remain with his family and help his father with the land. In order to become a Masaai warrior Olotumi was required to go through certain trials to detect his strength and agility. He has killed lions with his bare hands, wrestled snakes and hiked through the safari wilderness of Tanzania, Africa. Fate, however, fate intended a different life for Olotumi and when a German man approached him, everything changed in less than twenty-four hours.

 

 

 

 

I was running. My breath heavy, bare feet were wet on the dirt path. I looked in front of me and saw the village and the farm. I kept running as fast as I could from the group chasing me. I looked to my right and saw my mothers hut. I wondered if I should run inside but I didn’t want my mother to be drawn into the action.

I took a brief look over my shoulder causing me to trip over a root in the road. As I tumbled forward thoughts ran through my head and I wished that I could just make it to my eleventh birthday. As I fell I heard the voices of a group of very light skinned Germans. Panic set in and I was ready to react. Suddenly the man who appeared to be leading the group reached down to help pull me up. I didn’t get the impression that these people were out to kill me anymore.

The group got quiet and the German leader said, “Hallo ist mein Name Abel. Wirst du uns helfen?” (German Translation: Hello my name is Abel. Will you help us?) I became more confused and shot a look of despair. I said, “Supai Olotumi Laizer” (Masaai Translation: My name is Olotumi Laizer.) He looked at me and almost whispered without hope, “Unasema swahili ?” (Swahili Translation: Do you speak Swahili?) Abel glanced at me and finally understood that we shared no common languages. The second language that he spoke sounded oddly familiar. I had heard my father saying that the government in Southeast Africa wants to universalize one national language, Swahili.

Abel began to get anxious and his group was looking rather upset. He looked around and in desperation began to make movements that suggested different activities. First, he moved his index finger and his middle finger as if to mimic legs walking. Second, he lay his hands on top of one another, put his head and down and shut his eyes as if he were sleeping.

“Ah!” I said.

In an instant I knew what they were looking for. This was a tour group trying to spend the night on the outskirts of the village so they could hike to the top of Mt. Kilimanjaro. I assumed the guide was not sure of where he was going. Our village was inside of the Ngorongoro Conservation Area in Tanzania, Africa so we had many visitors to our region.

            I began to point in the direction of the tents but realized that they were about two miles walk away. I knew that without proper directions the group may not make it there before sundown and may get themselves into trouble. Unfortunately, I understood quickly that not only would I need to walk the two miles to take them to their tents, I would have to walk two miles back, alone. In my home, animals like elephants, lions, and anacondas are everywhere and they are not friendly. They can come out and tear you to pieces leaving little evidence for anyone else to find.

            In an effort to make it back to the village before dark I decided to walk as fast as I could to entice the group to do the same. Abel pulled on my shoulder but I just kept pushing forward, feeling the eyes of the tour group all over my body. I could hear the Germans talking but understood nothing about what they were saying. It seemed that the tone had changed and the group began to question their guide saying, “Warum nehmen wir diesen Jungen ?” (Why are we taking this boy?) The guide did his best to reassure the group that everything was OK but it was clear that some people were not very comfortable with what we were doing. I didn’t care I just kept going.

            I wondered what my family would think about where I had gone. My father would probably be with one of the other wives tonight but I knew that he would find out from my mother soon enough. I was the first born in my family so it was expected that I take the role and lead my siblings. My father expects a lot from me and sometimes he gets angry at things that I do. I wondered what he would think of me doing this? I considered that I would have time to come up with a perfectly good explanation of what happened by the time I get home so I started to brainstorm.

            As we approached the tents that the Germans would stay in, I almost immediately nodded and begun my walk back. I didn’t want to upset anyone in the group and I was also worried my mother and father would be upset with me for leaving the village with no word. I heard yelling in my direction and looked back to see the group was waving me back over. I played dumb and just kept walking. After a minute I heard people walking behind me. It appeared that the group of people was going to walk me back to my village. Abel must have informed them of the dangers of walking through the jungle at night. I looked around and smiled at those who decided to walk with me and they smiled back.

            The walk home was very quiet. It was like no one wanted to talk because they felt guilty of being able to communicate with each other but not to me. Thankfully, the two miles came to pass quickly and when we arrived at my village we waved goodbye and parted ways.

            As I walked into my hut I looked at my mother who scowled at me. I hung my head low and we both decide to deal with this another day.

            I woke up early the following morning to my father yelling at someone from the middle of the village our family shared. I walked outside and saw three men in Western style suits. One appeared to be translating Swahili into Masaai for my father, explaining that the government had come for me and would like to send me to school. My father protested with every faculty within him. He would not have his first son leave the farm and go to school. He would need my help, and he would need me to fulfill my duties as the first born to become a Masaai Warrior. My father hated the idea of school and didn’t see the uses of it.

Unfortunate for my father, it was not up to him to make the decision for me to go to school. The government had done this often in the past to different villages. In an effort to universalize Swahili as the national language as well as educate their people, the government would periodically take a child from a village and send them to school and petition a sponsor for the child in order to pay for the school expenses.

            The three men in suits approached me and begun to ask me questions. At first they presented me with three things: a T-Shirt, candy or a piece of chalk.

The translator said, “Pick one.”

I thought about each one but decided that I wanted to go with the chalk. The men in suits were pleased and said, “ Why did you chose the chalk?” I began to tell a story about friends of mine that went to school and stole chalk. They wanted to draw on their friends faces at night and watch them wake up and walk around with it in the morning.

The translator began to smile and chuckled to hold back laughter.

The translator said, “It might be better that we just tell them you want to go to school.” As the translator told them why I chose the chalk I started to wonder what my life was going to be like now. Just yesterday I was going to grow up with my family, and eventually start marrying wives and having children. I wasn’t sure what any of it meant yet but I knew that it was all going to change.

Author's Note

I am really focused on discovering how interesting the story is right now. I struggled to incorporate dialogue because the language used is difficult. I am also interested in seeing if you were transported to this place. I love feedback but I love suggestions more. They jog my brain and help me create interesting work. This is a rough draft. I look forward to hearing from you!