Auma's Long Run by Eucabeth Odhiambo

Author:Eucabeth Odhiambo [Odhiambo, Eucabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Fiction - Middle Grade, Middle-Grade Fiction, Middle-Grade Novel, Middle-Grade Novels, novel, Novels, Africa, AIDS, AIDS Epidemic, AIDS Epidemic in 1980s, AIDS in Africa, Auma, Auma's Long Run, Bravery, Carolrhoda Books, Courage, Cultural Tradition, Culture, Disease, Diseases, Eucabeth, Eucabeth Odhiambo, Families, Family, Family & Relationships, Friend, Friends, Friendship, Kenya, Lifestyles, Love, Multicultural, Nairobi, Odhiambo, Relationships, Religion, School, Sport, Sports, Track, Track & Field, Track and field, Track and Field Athlete, Track and Field Athletes, Track Athlete, Track Athletes, Tradition, Traditions
ISBN: 9781512467574
Publisher: Lerner Publishing Group
Published: 2017-08-01T04:00:00+00:00

During all my classes, my imagination was full of “food rescues.” I daydreamed about light brown, sweet nguru falling from the sky, and sticking my tongue out to catch it. I imagined ripe sugar apples bigger than my head. I mentally cracked each one open and sucked out the white, meaty flesh, as the white juice dripped down and stained my dress. But the end-of-day bell zapped me out of my trance. I half-ran, half-walked home—afraid to overtire myself but motivated by the prospect of an evening meal. At least supper was one meal we could still count on.

Mama wasn’t home, and she hadn’t finished weeding the newly extended vegetable garden. I picked up the hoe before Dani could tell me it needed to be done. I motioned to Juma to get the other hoe and help me out. He dropped his book bag and went to get it. Musa was already taking care of the animals. Even Baby was working, sweeping the veranda. For the moment, I felt as though our yard knew no children anymore.

“What does that man want here?” Juma muttered under his breath.

I’d been so focused on weeding that I hadn’t noticed the visitor arrive. It was Akuku, our neighbor, now sitting under the guava tree talking to Dani.

Akuku was one of the neighbors who rarely came around when Baba was alive. I didn’t recall him attending the burial or bringing any gifts. Yet he’d shown up three times in the past week to talk to Dani or Mama. I didn’t like him much. He seemed rather old, idle-minded, and shady. The veins in his neck and forehead popped out like branches and his eyes were always twittering back and forth under half-closed lids, as if he were spying on the entire village.

I shifted my position so I could keep a steady eye on Akuku.

After a few minutes he got up to leave—and nearly ran into Mama as she came through the gate. The bucket atop her head teetered, but she steadied it with great effort, and only a dash of water spilled over the rim.

I couldn’t hear what Akuku said to my mother. But after he left, I watched Mama walk into the hut and noticed that her feet didn’t hit the ground hard anymore. Since I was a baby, whenever Mama was approaching I knew. I could always hear her purposeful footsteps. She had a confident walk that suggested great strength. But now, if I hadn’t been watching her, she’d have sneaked in without my noticing, just like Akuku.

I finished weeding the garden and helped Mama make sukuma wiki without any tomatoes or onions. That night, I choked down the bland greens with the doughy ugali. I could feel my stomach filling quickly, though, so I didn’t complain.

After supper, I swept the kitchen’s dirt floor as usual so it would be clear for Juma and Musa to sleep on. Then Baby and I went to the sitting room and lay down on our mat. It was always easier to fall asleep when there was something in my stomach.

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