And Then Life Happens by Auma Obama

Author:Auma Obama
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Press

18.

I LEFT MY BROTHER and my best friend behind in the United States with a heavy heart, but at the same time I was really looking forward to seeing Karl again.

Karl studied law. We met through a carpool. I fell in love with him. Shortly after my return from America, we saw each other almost daily. I told him in detail about my moving journey to visit my brother.

Karl was tall and athletic. He played handball, a sport with which I hadn’t previously been familiar. He was also a passionate fan of the German rock band BAP. I liked his energy and charisma, his cheerful nature. To this day, I can see his dimples in my mind’s eye, when he smiled at me or burst out laughing.

Shortly after our relationship had begun, he invited me to his home. He was still living with his parents in a village near Heidelberg. I was excited about the visit with his family. Karl had a younger sister, Gerda. His father, who had since retired, had been a baker, and the family lived in the house in which the bakery had once been.

When we got out of the car and his parents came toward us, I looked into two astonished faces. I sensed how both of them almost imperceptibly but instinctively recoiled. Oh no, I thought, Karl forgot to tell them that I’m black! My boyfriend approached his parents with a smile and introduced me. Hesitantly, I held out my hand to his father, who stood directly in front of me. He, too, hesitated, but then took my hand and shook it vigorously.

“Guten Tag, Fräulein Auma,” he said. “Guten Tag.”

The mother stared at me and also said, “Guten Tag.” She gave me her hand only reluctantly. Immediately, I knew: It bothered her that her son was with an African.

However, the visit with Karl’s parents did no harm to our young love. Not long after, my boyfriend moved out of the house, but continued to insist on us visiting his parents together. In his view, they had to accept me. He didn’t want to have to choose between us. I respected that. As an African, I set great store by family, and didn’t doubt that, if I loved Karl, I would have to accept his, too. Still, each time I noticed how much trouble his mother had with me. I simply did not fit into the picture. That became clear to me when Karl’s sister got married.

The upcoming wedding was a constant topic of conversation in the family, because Karl’s sister’s fiancé was the owner of the largest company and thus also the most important employer in the village. Of course, I assumed that I would be invited together with Karl. I was the girlfriend of the brother of the bride, after all. I had also already met the groom. So I was all the more surprised one evening when my boyfriend, somewhat embarrassed, said, “Unfortunately, I have to go to the wedding alone.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, taken aback.

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