Nuruddin Farah - Hiding in Plain Sight

They stop in the children’s rooms first. Dahaba’s door is painted dark purple and adorned with a couple of photographs of women singers, including Celine Dion. Dahaba says, “Meet my room,” as if she were introducing her aunt to an entire world. Inside, the room is adorned with more posters of female singers. There is a messy unmade bed, and the floor is littered with dirty socks. But there are also books everywhere, and Bella thinks that this is a girl for whom reading will be the best defense against depression.

“Where do you borrow books from,” she asks, “the school library or the public library? Or is there one in Nairobi?”

“She likes her books bought new,” Salif says.

Bella says, “We’ll have to talk about that.”

“The biggest bookshop is in the Yaya Center.”

“Prices are exorbitant, aren’t they?”

“Quite often five times more expensive than a book costs anywhere in the UK or the U.S.,” he says. “When you think of it, there is no way most people can afford to buy books at all here. Nor does Nairobi have any good secondhand bookshops. So many secondhand clothes stores, a number of which are run by the church, but no good secondhand bookstore.”

Dahaba says, “For someone who seldom reads, Salif is making strange comments about the price of books, Auntie.”

Salif still does not allow her comments to upset him. In his room, indeed, the bookcases are almost bare. In fact, there is hardly any clutter in the room at all. Everything seems to be in its right place except for the sports shoes that are arrayed on the lowest shelf of the bookcase. He does not seem eager for any of them to enter any farther. He closes the door to his room and says, “Auntie, let us show you to your room.”

“Who has a key?” she asks.

“We both do,” Dahaba says.

“He was a good dad,” Dahaba says. She begins to weep again, but when Bella and Salif each reach out a hand to comfort her, she regains her composure, and they enter the room.

Dahaba says, “Our dad had no secrets from us.”

“Except when it came to work,” Salif says. Then they retreat to their respective rooms, Bella wanting to shower, Salif turning his computer on, and Dahaba starting to read a much dog-eared sci-fi novel.

Just as Bella is undressing, she receives a text message from Valerie, who has checked into the hotel and wants to know where Bella is and how soon she can visit her children. Before Bella can even think how to respond, Salif calls from his room, saying that he too has received a text message. And then Dahaba receives a message as well.

They meet in the kitchen and read the text messages they’ve received from Valerie, and Salif dictates a message, on which all three agree and which Dahaba is assigned to forward to their mum. “Just got back to Nairobi and we are too knackered to see you. But please come for dinner tomorrow evening at seven p.m., Mum.” And she provides her mother with detailed directions on how to get there and tells her to call if there is need.

“Does that mean we’ll have to cook tonight?” asks Dahaba.

“No, it doesn’t,” says Bella. “You can eat a takeaway of your choice here or I can take you to eat out and then I will drive you back home.”

“What is your plan?”

Bella says to Salif, “Your dad’s car keys first?”

Salif runs up and comes back with the car keys.

“We won’t eat in tonight,” she says.

Salif says, “Cool.”

“I want McDonald’s,” says Dahaba.

“I want sushi,” says Salif.

“Do you know the addresses of the restaurants?”

Dahaba says, “We sure do.”

“Here is the condition,” states Bella.

Dahaba is quick to say, “We won’t fight, promise.”

“Just wait. Do let Auntie tell us the condition.”

“What is the condition?” asks Dahaba.

“Since I need to get back to my hotel to get my remaining suitcases, I will bring you home; drive away; do an errand or two, including perhaps meeting your mum for a drink; and then come home,” says Bella.

Dahaba says, “I want to meet Mum too.”

Salif is of a different opinion. He says, “I think it is best that Auntie meets her alone first. We haven’t seen Mum for a very, very long time and waiting to see her for one more night won’t kill either of us since we’ve invited her for dinner.” Then he says to Dahaba, “What do you think, my little sister?”

“Okay, we’ll meet her tomorrow,” agrees Dahaba. Then she adds, “But I want a Big Mac, one huge tub of ice cream, and a Diet Coke. And I want us to go right away. And let there be no argument.”

—

Bella goes to the car to get herself reacquainted with it. Dahaba sits in the front by her side, knowing that Salif is unlikely to make a fuss now because he sat by the driver earlier and because Dahaba acceded to Salif’s demand that Auntie Bella meet their mother outside their presence so they could talk about matters of adult concern.

Bella turns the engine on while waiting for Salif to set the alarm. She lets it idle as she gets accustomed to where everything is. She engages the gears, pretending she is changing them, and then lets up on the clutch gently and moves forward half a meter — this startles Dahaba, who seems frightened by the suddenness of the move.

Bella says, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, I know what you are doing,” says Dahaba.

“I am trying to get a grip on how it works.”

“Please don’t mind about me. Do what you must do.”

“I won’t give you a fright, I promise,” says Bella.

“I won’t take fright now I know what you are doing.”

Then Bella works the brakes, relieved that Dahaba has stopped yattering and promising she won’t take fright. If you asked Bella how she feels right this instant or if she is scared driving back at night from her Nairobi hotel, she will admit that she is a little fearful. The car is new to her, this is the first time she has been behind the wheel here, and the city streets are unfamiliar to her, and from her previous memory, drivers in Nairobi are in the habit of using their full-beam lights and are very likely to blind the drivers in the oncoming vehicles. And you have to look out for pedestrians crossing the roads at any time and there are deadly obstructions on the sides of these narrow roads. You would be mad not to be cautious, very cautious.

Salif joins them in the car, and without the slightest fuss, he sits in the back and presciently says aloud, “Everything is under control,” perhaps meaning that he has set the alarm and all is well. Bella, however, feels it is time she had a paper map and also wonders if either of them knows how to set up the GPS in the car. Salif says, “Do you need to set up a GPS on top of Cawrala?”

“Who is Cawrala?” Bella asks.

Dahaba explains that it is the nickname Somalis have given to the female voice of the GPS, which is beginning to gain currency here, just as it has in North America. And she shows Bella how to use it.

When Bella asks for the address of their favorite McDonald’s drive-thru, Dahaba has no idea because she is bad with addresses and doesn’t know the names of any of the city’s streets, and Salif is about to start teasing her about this.

“Salif, dear, not a word more from you,” says Bella, displaying a moment’s irritability. “Just give me the address of the drive-thru.” And he does so.

“Let us get your food,” says Bella, moving.

And voilà, the GPS makes contact with the satellite, which is now ready to guide her and Cawrala, the woman whose voice she is familiar with, as she has heard it in a variety of cities, in different languages, and in different continents. The voice has a temper of such meanness that it reminds Bella of her first-grade teacher, who was often cross with her. Cawrala tells Bella to turn left and she does so, and then after a couple of hundred meters, Cawrala tells her to turn right. Because Bella is intent on testing Cawrala’s patience, she takes a left turn, contrary to the woman’s instructions. The woman’s bad temper is back, albeit still in control, as she recalculates before coming back with renewed advice on how to set matters right so they can get to the mall where the drive-thru is located. Salif, irritated at Dahaba’s yattering about things to do with GPSs and satellites, offers to lead Bella to their favorite McDonald’s if only Auntie would silence Cawrala and tell Dahaba to “shut her gob too.”