The Outsider(S) (24 page)

Astonished, she stared at the woman, wondering why she didn’t clean her skin as well as she cleaned her teeth. Maybe then, she wouldn’t be so dark. She thought silently.

“Can I help you?” the black woman had asked her in perfect German. She straightened herself and took a step forward.

“What is your name?” she asked.

“Topista,” the black woman responded stressing each syllable. She looked like she enjoyed saying her name.

“Where do you come from?” she asked the woman.

“From Congo!” the woman responded and held her gaze.

“Go back to Congo! Go!” she had told the woman. If no one was going to tell the foreigners to leave, she was going to take matters into her own hands.

“I will give you some brochures so you can see what lovely offers we have for your kind of people this season.” The black woman had said and looked like she was about to burst out laughing. She selected some brochures, put them in an envelope and handed them to her. She had grabbed the envelope and left quickly. When she reached home, she threw the envelope on top of the book shelf without looking inside. Now two days later, she opened the envelope. A brochure fell out. She picked it up and started reading it. It was from an organization in Switzerland called EXIT in which people who were fed up of being alive went to in order to end their lives. She looked through the rest of the brochures and was stunned to find out that they were all from EXIT. She stared at them, wondering why the black woman thought it necessary to give them to her. At that point, a brilliant idea crossed her mind. She picked up a pen and a paper and began to write.

Dear
Irmtraut,
Dear
Ramona,

I
have
some
great
news
for
you.
I
will
die
on
June
26
th
at
ten
p.m.

Your
mother,

Johanna
Eickelschaft

*     *    *

At the other end of the world in Nairobi, Irmtraut and her two nephews were shopping in Nakumatt.

“Tante Irmtraut, Kioko said my left kick is as powerful as Messi’s,” Tankie said while struggling to load a carton of milk into the car.

“No, it isn’t,” Lukas countered.

“Yes, it is!” Tankie cried.

Irmtraut smiled at both of them. She scooped Tankie up and put him into the car. Her nephews were always a joy. She enjoyed listening to their little arguments. Completely innocent, no malice at all—or so she thought.

“Tante Irmtraut, Tankie asked Kioko ten times if his kick was as good as Messi’s. Kioko finally said yes, I am sure to shut him up,” Lukas said and with a satisfied smirk looked up at Tankie. Tankie folded his arms across his chest. He had a dangerous-looking scowl on his face.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m sure that you have the best kick in the world.” Irmtraut smiled and gave him a small nudge. He began giggling as they drove off.

The phone in the car buzzed as soon as Irmtraut made the turn onto Westlands Road. It was Ramona.

“Shoot!” Irmtraut answered with a giggle. Lukas had told her it was the cool thing to say when one picked a call.

“I have two sets of news—the good and the not so good,” Ramona started.

“The good first,” Irmtraut said.

“Rewe has just confirmed me as a partner. The only one for organic products from sub-Saharan Africa.”

“Really?” the chorus of voices came from the car. There were giggles from the two boys. Ramona had started a company to help the local women’s groups to market their farm produce in Europe. Most of those women were poor single mothers with no other source of income. It had been an uphill task but Ramona had never thought of giving up. She had become an astute businesswoman with boundless energy.

“You know what, I’m not surprised at all,” Irmtraut said finally. “I always knew you would make it.”

“Really?” Ramona asked from the other end. It meant a lot to hear Irmtraut say that.

But Irmtraut was thinking of something else. Ramona, as far as she remembered, had always been passionate about organic food. And passion along with hard work and a bit of good luck always led to success.

“Are you ready for the bad?” Ramona asked. Before Irmtraut could respond, she started talking. “I can’t get the
ugali
to be firm. It’s all watery!”

Irmtraut thought about that for a second. She didn’t want anything to spoil the day. She had been looking forward to today all week. Kioko was finally going to introduce her to his long-lost sister. And more than anything, she wanted to make a good impression.

“How about calling a catering firm?” she asked Ramona.

“OK,” Ramona responded. She took out the Yellow Pages booklet that was lying on the shelf and dialed the first number for catering services that she found.

“Philister Taa Catering Services, good morning!” a pleasant voice answered on the other end.

Philister Taa had initially worked as house help in Kenya. But her heart was never in it. She had saved enough and had eventually started her own catering firm. It hadn’t always been easy. Her friend Tamaa Matano had helped her in every way that she could. But she knew that the only way to sustain their friendship was to be free of obligations. “My sister has two special guests coming to visit today. I would like to order the best Kenyan meal for them,” Ramona started hesitantly.

The woman on the other end laughed cautiously. “Then you are in the right place! Do you have something in particular in mind?”

There was a short pause. “Actually, not really,” Ramona said timidly.

“Are these guests Kenyans?” Philister Taa asked Ramona.

“Yes. That is why I would like to order some nice Kenyan food” Ramona responded.

“OK that is easy. I could bring my own in-house Kenyan delicacy.”

“Oh that would be great!” Ramona responded.

“What is this delicacy called?”

“Sauerkraut, Sausage and Ugali” Philister responded. Ever since she had introduced it into her Menu, the profits in her catering firm had been soaring. The new Kenyan middle class was not only enthusiastic about exotic food but also had the money to spend on it.

“That doesn’t sound Kenyan” Ramona said suddenly feeling unsure of herself.

“Well, it is a long story.” Philister responded with a chuckle.

“Could you then also bring some normal Kenyan food?” Ramona asked.

“Don’t worry I will bring the best of everything. Some fish, some meat, some vegetables,” Philister Taa responded. She wrote down the address of the client and immediately set out to work. She had earlier promised to accompany Tamaa Matano to something she said was very important. But that was going to have to wait. Business came first.

“That would be perfect,” Ramona said, and as she put the receiver down, she looked out and saw her sister Irmtraut and her two sons walking into the house holding hands. She smiled up at them.

“I’m so nervous,” Irmtraut said after the boys finally left the room.

“Why?” Ramona asked. Once in a while she still thought of the way she had hated her sister most of her life, and felt ashamed of it.

“Do you think she will like me?” Irmtraut asked anxiously.

Ramona smiled at her. She remembered her own prior obsession with being liked. “You can’t make anyone like you,” she said. “If you do, then it’s not real.”

The sisters looked at each other and smiled.

“Tell me about this Tamaa Matano,” Ramona said.

“Well, Kioko and Tamaa Matano are twins, and their mother threw them at different spots.”

“Threw them?” Ramona asked in shock.

“Yes,” Irmtraut responded.

“She was young and poor so she abandoned them. Luckily for Kioko he was abandoned at the entrance of a church so a priest picked him up. She just left Tamaa Matano with a neighbor and disappeared.”

“Oh my God!” Ramona exclaimed. Irmtraut stared at her silently. The horrific things she had experienced or heard ever since coming to Africa sometimes made the abuse they had experienced at their own mother’s hands seem like nothing. But only sometimes.

Two hours later, the two sisters sat in Irmtraut’s bedroom in front of the dressing table. “He gave me these earrings,” Irmtraut said proudly, showing Ramona a set of gold earrings.

“Who?” Ramona asked playfully. She still didn’t quite understand the relationship between Kioko and her sister.

“I feel like an impostor,” Irmtraut said abruptly.

“Why?” her sister asked thoughtfully. She suspected that she already knew the answer. They loved their lives in Africa. They had African friends. They felt completely at home—except they weren’t.

“I think that’s normal,” Ramona said finally.

But Irmtraut didn’t seem convinced. “Do you think that is how foreigners feel everywhere?” she prodded.

“You mean, like impostors?” Ramona asked. She thought about all the foreigners she had seen back home.

“You know, that is really difficult to say, but I think that anything else would be unnatural.”

For a moment, they just stood in the middle of the room silently, both deep in their thoughts.

The doorbell rang, and Tankie and Lukas dashed to open it. Irmtraut rushed into the sitting room. She saw Kioko standing at the door and smiling at her. Lukas and Tankie were both holding his left hand. She looked past him to the woman standing nervously behind him. She was wearing a white Chanel dress. Their eyes met, and for a moment they just stood there looking at each other. They both wondered where they had met before. And then Irmtraut remembered the long endless legs. And the bibles. It was the attractive woman on her flight from Amsterdam to Nairobi who according to her seat mate had stolen the minister of finance away from his wife.

“Have you two met before?” Kioko asked, looking from Tamaa Matano to Irmtraut.

“Yes,” Tamaa Matano replied. She stepped forward and gave Irmtraut a hug. “The prayers worked. I am doing well!” she said softly, as if they had known each other all their lives.

Acknowledgements

W
riting a book is a long process. Along the way, one needs encouragement or just people who enthusiastically look forward to reading the finished book. Knowingly or unknowingly, these people provide one with the motivation needed during this process. I would like to thank my husband Tobias Jakob for his insight and feedback along the way. As a European, who has lived in Africa before, his feedback was essential in keeping my wild imagination in check.

Along with my good friend Renata Rivkin Haag, they read the first draft and gave me feedback that helped in creating a subsequent draft and ultimately this book. For that, I am forever grateful.

Secondly, I would like to thank my good friends Annabelle Lanfranca and Dr. Claudia Handwerker for their help in editing and proofreading this book. They helped me polish this story and tie the loose ends. Our discussions about the book were always so entertaining. Thank you for your friendship.

I would also like to thank my friend Wendy Okolo for being the most ambitious and good natured person that I know. Our ‘talks’always make me reflect about life and the role of women in the African society. My friend Winnie Achoki can also not go unmentioned. Her boundless faith and optimism make her one of the most positive people that I have the good luck to have in my life.

Many other friends were very encouraging and supportive along the way. Zuhal Werner, Dr. Oezlem Durmus and Marion Frischeisen especially come to mind. Thanks guys.