BAMAKO, Aribert Raphael [read out loud books .TXT] 📗

steps, Hassan said, “How long have you known Talya?”
“Almost two years, why?”
“Did you ever see her like this?”
“No, nor have I seen her much outside of our office. Why?”
“Because, and to answer your question, yes, I am in love with her and I feel totally responsible for her current behaviour. I knew, or I could sense that there was more than friendship between us and I pushed her into a corner. When she responded, I went off the deep end.” Hassan lowered his gaze and continued to twirl the swizzle stick in his juice.
“Thank you for your honesty, Hassan. I want Talya to find peace. She’s had a very troubled childhood—”
“Yes, Mohammed told me about that.”
“You mean, Monsieur Fade? How does he know about Talya’s past?”
“It’s a long story. But, at some point, Mohammed had to run a background check on her and although he couldn’t tell me much, he led me to understand that her life had not been simple.” Hassan drank his glass empty.
“I don’t know much about her myself,” James admitted, “because she won’t talk about it. All I know is that there is more to her than meets the eye.”
After a moment spent in silence, Hassan got up. “I think I’ll get myself another juice. Do you want something?”
“Another scotch will be nice, thank you.”
Hassan was standing by the bar, when he saw Samir walk down the steps looking round to find them.
“Hey, Samir,” Hassan called out. “We’re sitting by the beach. Do you want something?”
“Yes, since you’re buying, I’ll have a large one of whatever is on offer. Where’s Talya?” He had noticed that James was the only person sitting at their table.
“She went back to her room.”
“What? What happened?” Samir looked at Hassan a flash of resentment in his eyes.
“Come and sit down, we’ll tell you.”
“Don’t bother. I’ll find out for myself. Just keep my juice cold will you? I’ll be back.”
Samir walked away toward the hotel once again.
“Didn’t I see Samir just now? Doesn’t he want to join us?” James asked.
Hassan put the glasses down on the table. “He’s gone back to get Talya.”
“How’s he going to do that? She’s probably sulking right now. I bet he won’t get anywhere.”
“Don’t be too sure about that. Samir is a Touareg. He is a nomad, a man of the desert. Talya knows this. She’s been brought up revering their freedom and their word of wisdom. She knows he will bring her peace. If for no one else, for him she’ll open her door. I’m sure of it.”
“You seem to know a lot more about that childhood of hers than you led on.”
“No, it’s not what I know it’s what I see. The way she behaves when she’s with him or with elders of our faith. Her reverence wasn’t learned, as an actor would learn a part. Her every gesture, every word comes from her heart. She is good—”
“Don’t I know it….” James looked down at his drink musingly.
“Then why are you so abrupt when it comes to her emotions?”
“And you’re not? I saw the way you look at her when it comes to dealing with Hjamal—”
“When it comes to him, I can see she feels something for the man. And it’s difficult for me to accept it. I fear that he’ll turn on her. Somehow I can’t get it out of my mind that he’s going to hurt her.”
“Yes, I know and that’s what worries me. You heard what I said this afternoon.” James paused then looked up from his glass to Hassan. “How does Samir feel about Hjamal? Maybe he could make her see that she should be cautious with him, especially when she’s going to have to work with him.”
“We’ll ask him when they get back.”


103
When Talya closed the door, she was in tears. She couldn’t believe the way James had treated her. “Face facts,” he said. Well, if that’s not pointing the finger at the wrong person. Couldn’t he see what this was all about? Hassan being in love with me—that was a laugh. All he wants is a wife to keep and to own. He couldn’t care less about what I feel. He just wants me because I am white like his mother, just like a feather to put on his cap.
She heard a knock at the door. That better not be him, or he’ll get an ear-full from the one ‘who needs to face facts’. She flung the door opened and saw Samir. God, what now?
He stood there, looking down at her. “May I intrude?”
“Yes, why don’t you—everyone else does,” she flared, although Samir was the one person Talya wanted to see. She knew he understood how she felt.
“I see Allah hasn’t appeased your anger.” The words had been spoken with softness and understanding.
“No, Samir, He hasn’t. He’s probably turning away right now and saying Hassan and I are hopeless.”
“I don’t think he would be one to deprive you of hope, Talya. You’re the one doing that.”
“Don’t start scolding me will you? I’ve had enough for one night.”
“Again, you’re putting the blame on the wrong one.”
“Me? Am I not the one who’s been facing facts all this time? Am I not the one who told Hassan to stay away? Am I not the one who rejected his advances…?”
“So, you’re blaming the world for their misunderstanding? All of these rejections you’re speaking of, aren’t you the one who proffered them? Such as you are rejecting my scolding right now?”
“Sure, because I am the one who’s trying to keep in touch with reality. Not unlike some people who are forever asking the impossible.”
“You mean Hassan asking you to marry?”
“Yes, that’s what I mean. Then I turn around and my boss is telling me that I should face facts and that I should keep my head out of the clouds so that I could manage my future.”
“Talya, listen to me. There is no need for your frustration. Let men speak. They have nothing better to do and you of all people should know this. Men only speak many words, which make no sense, and women listen to engender truth. So why don’t you come with me and face these men who speak many words so that you can engender truth?”
It was as if Talya had heard her father speak. They had been standing on the terrace and now she threw herself in his arms to feel the peace that her father used to give her in his embrace—too long ago.
After a moment, Samir said, “Let’s go back, Talya,” releasing her gently.
“Don’t you think I should let them brew for the night?”
“And let me go down alone to face these two imbeciles?”
Talya opened her mouth and closed it again. Samir smiled.
She didn’t think James or Hassan would have liked Samir calling them ‘imbeciles’. She knew what Samir meant though.
“All right, just let me wash my face. I don’t want them to know that I cried.”

104
A few minutes later, Samir and Talya were sitting at the table with James and Hassan. Talya chose to sit between Samir and James, and across from Hassan.
“I’m glad you’ve decided to come back, Talya,” James rushed to say. “I’m sorry for flying off the handle like I did—”
“It’s okay….” Talya cut him off with a faint smile. “Forget it, shall we? Let’s talk about something else.”
“Samir, Hassan tells me you’re a Touareg,” James began, an inquisitive look on his face. “For the average Westerner, a Touareg, or any Bedouin for that matter, is a man of mystery. Are you? A man of mystery, I mean.”
Samir seemed to have expected the question. He smiled. “Yes, that’s what people call me: a Touareg. I am an Imouchar-Imajeren to be precise. This is a noble order.” I knew it. “In the majority of cases, the lineage dates back to the eleventh century. At present, we are called “Kel Oulli”—people who tend goats—in Berber language. My family, however, does not raise or tend flocks. We still transport goods and people throughout the Sahara and the Sahel to serve remote communities located mainly in the oases where they have farming plots. Their meagre plantations often do not raise enough crop revenue to provide for their modest living, so my family tries to supplement their requirements with some of life’s necessities.”
Talya was fascinated.
“Very interesting indeed.” James was looking at Samir with renewed awareness. “What about your social setting, is it mostly as in the rest of Islam?”
“No, it is not—far from it, in fact.” Everyone at the table stared at the man whose nobility became obvious by the minute. “The main difference resides perhaps, in the way we treat women.” Samir shot a meaningful glance in Hassan’s direction. “The Touareg woman enjoys a privilege status whereby she benefits of autonomy unheard of in the rest of Islam. Men are due to listen to her. Our tent, or the family home, belongs to her. If she were to dismiss her husband for some reason, or any man in the family, the man would be ousted without recourse.”
Talya’s mouth fell open. She had no idea. The words Samir spoke earlier made all the sense in the world now. “Women listen to engender truth ...”
“Moreover,” Samir went on, “and perhaps more importantly, Touaregs are monogamous—we marry only once and do not have harems such as most of Muslim men do.” It was James’s turn to look at the Touareg agape. How ignorant we are. Samir then turned his head to Talya. “Would you like to go and have dinner somewhere else?”
She raised an eyebrow. “We…? Huh…, and where would we go?”
James and Hassan locked their eyes on him, somewhat taken aback at the unexpected invitation.
“Have you forgotten? I’ve been here before,” Samir replied with a grin. “Can I borrow your car, Hassan?”
“My car? Don’t you want us to go together?”
“No, Hassan. It is time for you to realize that this woman is not yours yet, and she won’t be yours until you step aside and let her accept your love with graceful and peaceful thought. You should know the way of Islam,” Samir added with reproof in his voice. He turned to James. “Monsieur Flaubert, if you don’t mind, I will take this woman away for a while. She needs to be reminded that you care for her and that her work here will only be done properly if she listens to your words.”
“I’m glad for your patience with Talya. By all means, Samir, please go,” James replied.
He watched Talya and Samir walking away—wise fellow, very wise indeed.
When the two men were alone again, they looked at one another and laughed. In the gentlest way, they both had been told to mind their manners.
A few moments later, they decided the night was getting colder and dinner should be better enjoyed in the restaurant.
When they walked in, Hassan was surprised to find Mohammed alone, finishing his appetizer.
“Mohammed? How are you? May I introduce you to Monsieur Flaubert? James, this is Mohammed Fade—and just let him be a friend for tonight. All of his lengthy titles are tiresome.”
“I’m