The Last Gift by Abdulrazak Gurnah

Author:Abdulrazak Gurnah [Gurnah, Abdulrazak]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781620403280
Amazon: 1620403285
Barnesnoble: 1620403285
Publisher: Bloomsbury USA
Published: 2011-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Flight

3

Mfenesini, he said. She sat up in the dark and asked what that was. Then when he said it again and it still made no sense, she switched on the torch that she kept beside her camp bed, pointing it away from him. He too was sitting up in bed, looking towards her. In the middle of the night. She went over to him and put the bedside lamp on. He said the word for the third time. She thought he was rambling, just woken from a dream about that faraway place in Africa where he came from. ‘Mfenesini,’ he said for the fourth time, smiling. ‘My school . . . where I went to school. I told you before.’

She gave him the notebook that she kept beside the bed, for him to write something down when he could not say it, and he wrote Mfenesini. He could not write for long, the muscles in his right arm and leg were still weak, but he could write a few words. He was talking more now and attended speech therapy four times a week, eager to get the words back. He walked to the health centre himself, for the exercise, timing himself each time. It was only a short distance away. When he was well it would have taken ten minutes, to the bottom of their street and left, straight down the road. Maryam walked with him the first two times, but then she had to do her voluntary afternoon at the Refugee Centre, so on the third time he went on his own and he was fine. He went on his own after that, taking his time. It was late summer and the weather was kind, and he walked slowly, using a stick to take the weight off his right leg. She watched him go sometimes, her brave Mr Boots. The doctor told him that the latest scan showed that the damage to the left side of his brain was not as bad as it had first seemed and he was making excellent progress with the aphasia. What he needed to do now was to build up his strength, attend all his therapy sessions and be cheerful. Fat chance about being cheerful, but he was obedient about therapy and exercises, and the words were coming back. It was not always easy to understand him, but the words were coming back, and his mind was clear. Each time he said more, his happiness brought tears to her eyes.

She looked at the word he had written in the notebook and then spoke it, looking at him. He nodded, smiling. ‘This was the name of your school,’ she said, and he nodded again. ‘Where is that?’ she asked.

When she asked him this where question before, he replied back home or something like that and then changed the subject. The monkey from Africa. This time he said Zanzibar without any hesitation. She gave him the notebook again and he wrote down the word. The word was not a surprise to her, for despite his caution, it had slipped out of him a few times.

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