Breaking Point (Drew Ashley 1) (31 page)

My mum and Kale looked a little worried, but I was only going as a trainee, I'd had my all by jabs, and two weeks wasn't long. I'd be back soon. What was the worst that could happen?

Chapter 19

Chapter 19

A stifling, muggy heat welcomed me to Rwibya. I was already sweating and we were still only descending from the plane. My legs felt stiff as I stepped down the stairs. Seven hours in the air was no joke. Thankfully, Rwibya was on the same time as England so I didn't have a time difference to worry about.

Two News24 journalists, that introduced themselves as Ralph and Colin, met us as we claimed our baggage. I didn't know them as they were from another department. We followed them out of the airport, while people crowded us asking to change our Pounds Sterling to Wari Dollars. I wondered how they knew what kind of money we had in our purses. We piled into a rickety old car and shut them out.

As Colin drove us to a hotel a few minutes away, I saw all sorts of sights that disturbed me. Deformed people knocked on the car windows, begging for money, whenever we stopped at a traffic light. Children, in nothing but tiny loincloths, carried heavy loads on their heads, and dodged dangerously between cars. The crack of gunfire persistently reverberated overhead.

I tied my hair up to get it off neck. My t-shirt was already sticking to me. "I suppose this car doesn't have any air conditioning."

"Are you for real?" Rosie asked. She didn't seem shocked by any of the things that I'd observed. She'd been before though, so she'd known what to expect.

"I've been to South Africa and Egypt, and they were really nice," I commented. I'd gone with Travis and we'd had a ball.

"There are nice parts of Rwibya too," Rosie said. "But we won't get to visit any. We're here to report on the injustice that this nation's government is doing its people."

"Where can I get one of those kaftans?" I asked her. As we'd left the airport she'd covered her hair with a printed scarf that matched the print on her kaftan.

"I have a few more in my suitcase," she told me. "You can borrow one."

The car stopped outside a rundown building. I looked at it in dread. It didn't look like a hotel. Ralph and Colin got out and Rosie and I followed suit. We allowed Ralph and Colin to take our bags.

I was hoping for some AC when we got inside the dilapidated building, but inside was just as hot as outside, if not hotter because there was no circulation of air. Rosie stepped forward and addressed a veiled woman who sat at a table. She handed us keys.

I sighed. This was a far cry from the Savoy.

"This is nicer than the hotel I stayed in last time," Rosie noted as Ralph and Colin showed us to our rooms.

I couldn't believe there could possibly be a hotel that was worse than this.

"This one's yours, Drew," Colin said, stopping outside a wooden door that had 12 written on it in dark green paint. "We have a meeting in an hour so I'll knock for you when I'm going down," he said. "Be careful with opening your door, though. I'll call to you and tell you it's me."

"Okay."

"I'll pass you a kaftan in a minute," Rosie said.

"Thanks." I entered my room and dragged my little suitcase in with me. I hadn't packed much, as advised by Rosie. Just the essentials. Although I had packed my hair straighteners. I needed to look good if I was going to be doing any reporting on camera.

I surveyed the tiny room. The carpet, which I guessed was clean, but looked dirty, was a stale brown. I wondered what colour it had been originally. Green paint peeled from the walls. The only item of furniture in the room was a bed that was made up with white sheets that had a huge yellow stain on them. I closed my eyes. This was my home for the next two weeks. There wasn't even a mirror. I'd have to make do with the mirror in my compact.

I tried to open my window to let some air into the room. I felt like I was frying. It didn't budge. I gave up after a few attempts. It was just as well anyway. It was better to be hot than to open the window and let mosquitos in.

I stripped down to my underwear and lay on one side of the bed, avoiding the yellow stain. Removing my clothes didn't help. I was still just as hot.

There was a sharp rap on my door. "It's Rosie," came Rosie's voice from the other side of the door.

I opened my suitcase and pulled my towel out and wrapped it around me. I opened the door a crack and took the garment that Rosie handed me. "Thanks, Rosie."

I shut the door and got dressed. The kaftan was loose and airy.

Colin knocked for me a few minutes later. He, Rosie and Ralph stood outside my door. Rosie had a hand fan. It looked like she'd come very well prepared. We went to one of the other guest rooms for our meeting. Jon and Derrick were there, as were some other people from News24 that I didn't know.

The meeting commenced and we were brought up to date with what was going on. Apparently, cameras had been banned, and all international journalists were currently undercover.

I was surprised. "Are you saying that the Rwibyan government has banned foreign reporters?"

There were nods of affirmation. I wanted to ask the obvious question of 'then what on earth are we doing here?' but I kept my mouth shut. What we were doing was against the law. I was sure of it.

"This is a major international news story, and we have to cover it," Rosie said, answering my unspoken question. "Rwibya has agreed to one News24 correspondent being in operation. They don't need to know that the number is a little more than one."

I felt uneasy. Well I was just understudying, not doing any actual reporting, so I wasn't personally breaking the law.

"Is this your first time here?" Colin asked me.

"Yes."

"Maybe we should brief you about etiquette then, and security."

"Don't look men in the eyes," Rosie told me.

I was taken aback. "Why?"

"They find it disrespectful," she explained. "Keep your head bowed."

"Women speak only to women," Ralph put in. "A woman can only address a man if there is no man with her to address him."

I nodded. "Got it."

"No handshakes, pointing at people, hugging, or kissing," Ralph continued.

"How do you say hello?" I asked.

"Most Rwibyans speak English, so just say hello and give a slight bow of the head," he answered, demonstrating.

I copied and everyone laughed.

"Got that," I said. "Anything else?"

"Never go anywhere alone. Not even in this hotel."

"Believe me, I wouldn't want to."

After the meeting we all went for dinner. The dining room was small. Rosie and I managed to get a table, but most of our colleagues had to stand to eat.

I picked up my spoon. That was all we had. No knife or fork. "So what's this?" I asked, looking at my food.

"Rice and red beans with a tomato sauce that isn't at all bad if you ask me," Rosie replied.

I took a tentative spoonful. The taste was completely foreign to me, but it wasn't unpleasant. I wouldn't go so far as to say it was nice either, though.

After dinner, Rosie said she was going to bed and suggested that I do the same. We'd had a long day and we had to be out for seven tomorrow. I took her advice.

I called my mum and Kale when I got back to my room, to let them know I was okay. I'd been here only a few hours and already, I missed home. How was I going to get through the whole two weeks?

I looked at the bed, wondering how I was going to avoid the yellow stain. I opted for covering it with my towel, and then rolled onto the bed, leaving the light on. The mattress was so soft I was sure I was going to wake up with back ache, assuming I slept at all.

I grabbed my Bible from my suitcase. I didn't know how people could survive a day here, never mind live in this melting pot of violence and chaos. If I was going to get through the next two weeks, it would only be by the grace of God.

I read Deuteronomy 31:8, an apt verse for my current situation:
The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.

***

Rosie and I went to a market the next day to talk to locals and find out what they thought of the government. Their current head of state had been in power for thirty two years. Their government was so corrupt it was laughable.

Rosie's face was flushed under her veil. I tugged at my kaftan uncomfortably. There was nowhere to seek shelter from the sun. No trees, no shadow from a tall building. The sun beat down upon us ruthlessly. It was worse than the hottest sauna, worse than my worst Gym21 memory, worse than any heat any heat I'd ever experienced.

A child with a crate of water bags on his head passed us. I stopped him and bought a bag of water. It looked cold and inviting. I couldn't believe it when he charged me fifty wari dollars, but then I quickly did the mental calculation and realised it equated to only twenty pence.

"Where's your mum?" I asked him. He looked at me blankly so I repeated the question slowly.

"She's dead," he replied. His eyes were yellow and the skin on his face and hands was dry. My heart broke.

"What about your dad?"

"He is in the prison."

"So who looks after you?"

"My brother."

"How old is he?"

"Eight years."

"And how old are you?"

"Six years."

I gave him some more money and watched him walk away. I nipped the bag with my teeth and sucked the water out. It wasn't as cold as it looked.

Rosie turned from talking to a group of market women and looked at me, horrified. "What are you drinking?"

I stopped drinking immediately. "Water. Why?"

"Please don't. They won't have filtered it."

I groaned. I was thirsty! I poured the water over my face instead. I wondered if I could remove my veil for a moment. Just a brief moment so that I could get some air. I slipped it back a little, and wiped wet hair from my forehead.

An hour later we went back to the main road to meet Ralph and Colin. We waited twenty minutes but they didn't show so Rosie hailed a motorcyclist who used his bike as a kind of taxi. I clung to Rosie for dear life as he sped through the city, artfully dodging potholes and children. It was not an experience I wanted to repeat any time soon.

Ralph and Colin turned up two hours later. They'd been robbed at gunpoint on their way to us.

***

I was five days into my Africa experience, and I had malaria. When I started feeling ill two days into the trip, I thought it was just my body's reaction to the heat and the weird Rwibyan diet, but Rosie told me it was malaria. How in the world did I get malaria? I had my jabs!

I lay on my bed, in my hotel room, feeling so sorry for myself. For the past three days I'd been feverish and lethargic. I felt horrible, like I was slowly dying. I didn't call home, because I didn't want Kale or my mum worrying. Whenever they called me, I texted them saying I was busy and couldn't talk.

I was angry. Angry at how helpless I felt. Angry at God for letting me get malaria. Didn't He think I'd had my fair share of illness yet? As I lay there, I realised that I'd brought it all upon myself. I was the one who'd begged Rosie to let me come and now I was suffering for it. I should have prayed and asked God if it was His will for me to come.

A doctor came to see me at midday. I couldn't believe it had taken three days for Rosie to locate a doctor. He'd had to come from another city apparently.

He checked me over and then gave me a course of medication. After he left I let myself cry. My self-pity was disgusting, but I couldn't help it. I hated this place. I wanted to go home.

Rosie came to see me after dinner. She placed a plate of rice and beans beside me on the bed. "Are you awake?"

"Yes." I whispered, too weak to sit up.

"How do you feel about going home tomorrow?" Rosie asked.

"Can I?"

"Yes. You're on the eleven o' clock flight."

That was the best news I'd heard in ages. "Thanks."

I dissolved into tears again when she left the room. There was nothing worse than being left alone when you were sick, especially in a strange country. I'd give anything to see my mum or Kale right now.

***

My room door swung open in the middle of the night. I opened my eyes, jolted from sleep. "Rosie?"

I heard a man's voice. He spoke in hushed tones to someone who replied in a different language. I froze. There were two men in my room.

A torch light shone in my face, blinding me momentarily, then something hit my head and knocked me out cold.

Chapter 20

Chapter 20

When I regained consciousness I was lying on my back on a hard surface. There was a wall opposite me, with a square hole that was barred with iron rods. Was it a window? Slivers of light slipped in between the rods.