Nuruddin Farah - Hiding in Plain Sight

“No.”

It’s clear to Bella — and must be to Padmini too, Bella thinks — that Ulrika and Valerie have already had at least a fling. Will they continue their interrupted liaison now? Bella suspects that they might, which does not auger well for either Padmini’s or Bella’s plans.

Padmini says, “Valerie says that Ulrika is safe with us until tomorrow morning, when we are due to depart, thanks to your generosity in paying for the room until then. After that, she says, it’s up to Ulrika to find another sanctuary.”

“Is that arrangement okay with you?”

“No. What if the police find out where she is? We’ll be considered accessories to the crime for offering shelter to a fugitive.”

“What is Valerie’s response to this?”

“She maintains that the likelihood of that happening is minimal and that we should give Ulrika shelter until an hour or so before we are scheduled to leave.”

“Remind me when that is, your departure time.”

“We are due to check in at Ugandan Air at five.”

“Tight,” comments Bella.

“I said it is too tight for my liking. But she insists that she wants to leave. She says she wants no repeat of what occurred in Kampala. She threw another stinker of a fit when she discovered you had paid the hotel bill up through tomorrow morning, by the way.”

“Why?” says Bella. “Is the woman mad?”

“Anyhow, she was raving and ranting and calling you all sorts of terrible names until Ulrika and her friend showed up. Then she was singing a different tune.”

“She still doesn’t know how to show gratitude.”

“Valerie doesn’t know the meaning of the concept.”

“So you are set to go?”

“Cross your fingers we are.”

—

In the mall, Bella leaves Padmini in the spice shop and walks across to the Nakumatt. She gets arugula for the salad, and the olive oil, balsamic vinegar, lemon, pepper, and Dijon mustard she needs for her favorite salad dressing. She also gets pasta and peppers and tomatoes for the penne all’arrabbiata she is planning. For Padmini’s dish, she gets basmati rice, chicken pieces, yogurt, fresh ginger, and fresh hot chilies, some green, some red. For dessert, she gets several types of cheese from the Nakumatt deli.

They meet at the checkout counter, and Bella pays. A youth elbows Padmini out of the way and takes hold of the cart Padmini is pushing. Not wanting to fight about it, they let him wheel it to the car, where Bella tips him.

They arrive home to a joyous brouhaha upstairs. Qamar and Zubair have arrived, and the four young people are up in Salif’s room “having fun,” as Qamar puts it, after a hug and a kiss from Auntie Bella when she looks in. Bella informs them that Auntie Padmini is with her downstairs, but that Valerie is delayed.

“But she is okay, though?” asks Dahaba.

“Of course she is.”

“And she will be here in time for dinner?”

“Of course she will be.”

Bella is surprised not to have received warning of their children’s arrival from Fatima or Mahdi. Not that this upsets her, but it is unlike them. She checks her phone and discovers she has inadvertently turned it off. There are several messages from them explaining that they are attending a funeral service for a relative on the outskirts of town and so it made sense to drop the children at Aar’s place first. Bella relaxes, happy that their relationship is already such that they don’t have to stand on formality.

In the kitchen, Padmini chats with Bella as she goes about putting away groceries and rustling up some lunch — a dozen baked chicken drumsticks for the children, and, for Padmini and herself, some slices of mozzarella and tomato drizzled with olive oil and balsamic vinegar.

“Any news from Valerie?” asks Bella.

“Ulrika has been in contact with the German embassy in Nairobi to inform them of her situation.”

“And?”

“The embassy will see what can be done.”

“To my mind, this is the wrong approach.”

“How so?”

“The diplomatic process is a lengthy one at best, and you don’t want this to drag on longer than it has already. And the embassy may get in touch with the hotel management to find a discreet way of spiriting her out of harm’s way. My only worry is that if any of this comes to light then matters may get much worse, at least in the short term. Lately this kind of interference by European and North American governments in local police matters in Africa and Asia has created diplomatic incidents.”

“I had no idea.”

Bella opens the oven and turns the drumsticks. Then she asks, “On what grounds are the police seeking Ulrika’s arrest?”

“Valerie is under the impression that if they apprehend her they’ll charge her with taking hefty fees to set up lesbians visiting from overseas with young African girls.”

“Of course, we are all aware young African boys and girls are farmed out for such purposes to tourists all the time and there has never been any fuss about it.” Bella sets out plates and tumblers filled with water and goes on. “In Mombasa, elderly white men openly frolic with young boys not even of shaving age. And in the seventies, Scandinavian women chased male teenagers in Gambia and Cape Town.”

Padmini flinches at the mention of Cape Town but she agrees. “I saw it myself when I was there.”

“There must be another reason why the police are now gunning for Ulrika. Why are they charging her with a crime they’ve chosen to ignore for so long?”

“Maybe she hasn’t made the payoffs the authorities demand,” ventures Padmini.

Bella calls up to the youngsters to come down and eat. They come to the table in high spirits, all of them yammering away at the same time and taking photos of each other and Padmini and Bella, even of the ingredients for tonight’s dinner. Bella lets them serve themselves, wondering if they hear one another when they jabber like this. “Get your drinks yourselves and give us peace,” she says, shooing them into the dining room.

After lunch, with the tables cleared and the dishes washed, Padmini prepares the tandoori chicken, mixing the spices she bought earlier with yogurt.

Padmini calls Valerie then reports on their conversation to Bella. It seems that things have taken a turn for the worse because the liaison in the German embassy is no longer picking up his phone and Ulrika and Valerie are stiff with worry. She tells Bella that Valerie is considering bringing Ulrika to the dinner tonight as her guest.

To this, Bella says, “That is decidedly not on.”

“Knowing Ulrika, she may try to crash the party,” Padmini says, sounding worried.

“Tell her she’ll be turned away,” Bella says, and she means it.

They have barely started to cook when Catherine Kariuki telephones to confirm that she will be coming but that James won’t be able to; there’s a security problem on the school grounds that he has to deal with.

Shortly after five, Mahdi and Fatima arrive. It’s long before dinner, but Mahdi and Fatima are like family. Bella makes them tea and catches up with them at the kitchen table. Mahdi tells her that the Kenyan doctor they’ve consulted believes that Fatima’s cancer is in remission, but Bella knows that Mahdi’s optimism tends to run high.

Mrs. Kariuki’s arrival alters the dynamics of the gathering. She cuts an authoritative figure, perhaps because she is used to being listened to by students. She is almost as tall as Padmini and broader, and she has a very strong handshake. She has known Fatima and Mahdi for a long time because Zubair and Qamar have been at the school since kindergarten. But this is the first time they are socializing.

Catherine Kariuki, when it pleases her, boasts a voice as booming as she is broad in the shoulders. Now she stands at the bottom of the stairs and hollers to the children to come and greet the adults. The four of them obediently come down the stairs single file, as if they were about to receive the blessings of Holy Communion. They extend their hands to her in turn, their heads bowed in deference, then step aside and wait to be dismissed. But within a few minutes, they have lost their shyness, and they go up to their rooms and bring down their cameras. Salif takes group photos in various combinations and Dahaba does single portraits. Bella can tell they are experiencing the special status that wielding a camera affords: stand here; smile and say “cheese”; put your hand here, chin up. The adults, even Catherine Kariuki, submit to them, following their instructions meticulously.