but Colonel Papa le Bon stopped the kid and came over and patted my head like a proper father. I was happy and proud as a Senegalese wrestling champion. I stopped crying. With all his majesty, Colonel Papa le Bon gave a signal. A signal that meant they were going to takeme with them. They gave me a
pagne
and I wrapped it round my arse and tied it.
Colonel Papa le Bon went over to Yacouba who started chanting again, ‘I am a grigriman, I am a shaman.’ The colonel made another signal and they brought Yacouba a
pagne
so he could hide his shameful parts. His
bangala
had shrunk.
Then Colonel Papa le Bon went over to the mother, the mother with the dead baby. He looked at her and looked at her. She was all filthy and she wasn’t wearing her
pagne
any more and her underwear didn’t really cover her
gnoussou-gnoussou
. She had a sensual charm, she had a voluptuous sex-appeal, (‘sex appeal’ meaning that she made you want to make love). Colonel Papa le Bon wanted to walk away, but he came back. He came back because the woman had voluptuous sex-appeal, he came back and stroked the baby. He ordered his people to come and take the baby.
They came with a makeshift stretcher and took the baby. (You say a ‘makeshift stretcher’ when the stretcher has been made in a hurry. That’s what it says in the
Petit Robert
.) The dead bodies of the baby and the little boy were lifted on to the four-by-four on makeshift stretchers.
Colonel Papa le Bon climbed into the four-by-four. Four child-soldiers with AK-47s got into the car beside Colonel Papa le Bon. The truck set off. Everyone else followed, foot to the road. That’s right, foot to the road. (I already explained ‘foot to the road’ means walking.)
We followed them. We means Yacouba, the mother of the dead baby, and your servant, me, the street kid, in the flesh. The truck headed towards the village slowly and silently.Slowly and silently because it had dead people in it. That’s what you do in everyday life, when you’ve got dead people on board, you drive slowly and silently. We were optimistic because Allah in his infinite goodness never leaves empty a mouth he has created.
Faforo!
Suddenly Colonel Papa le Bon stopped the truck. He got out of the truck, everyone got out of the truck. Colonel Papa le Bon roared, a song that was powerful and melodious. The song was returned by the echo. The echo of the forest. It was the song of the dead in Gio. Gio is the language of the Black Nigger African Natives in these parts, it’s a patois. Malinkés call them bushmen, savages, cannibals on account of they don’t speak Malinké like us and they’re not Muslim like us. In our big
bubus
the Malinkés look like they’re kind and friendly but really we’re racist bastards.
The song was taken up by the child-soldiers with the AK-47s. It was so, so beautiful that it made me cry. I cried my eyes out like this was the first time I’d ever seen something terrible. Cried like I didn’t believe in Allah. You should have seen it.
Faforo!
Everyone in the village came out of the huts. Out of curiosity, to see what was happening. The villagers followed the four-by-four with the bodies in it. Out of habit and because people are stupid and always following things. It was a genuine procession.
The dead child-soldier was called Kid, Captain Kid. Now and again in his beautiful song, Colonel Papa le Bon chanted ‘Captain Kid’ and the whole cortege howled after him‘Kid, Kid’. You should have heard it. They sounded like a bunch of retards.
We got to the camp. Like all the camps in the Liberian tribal wars, there were human skulls on stakes all round the boundary. Colonel Papa le Bon pointed his AK-47 in the air and fired. All the child-soldiers stopped dead and fired into the air like him. It was like I was dreaming. You should have seen it.
Gnamokodé!
Kid’s body was laid out under the appatam (‘appatam’ is in the
Glossary
, I explained it already).
Crowds and crowds came past
pagne
and I wrapped it round my arse and tied it.
Colonel Papa le Bon went over to Yacouba who started chanting again, ‘I am a grigriman, I am a shaman.’ The colonel made another signal and they brought Yacouba a
pagne
so he could hide his shameful parts. His
bangala
had shrunk.
Then Colonel Papa le Bon went over to the mother, the mother with the dead baby. He looked at her and looked at her. She was all filthy and she wasn’t wearing her
pagne
any more and her underwear didn’t really cover her
gnoussou-gnoussou
. She had a sensual charm, she had a voluptuous sex-appeal, (‘sex appeal’ meaning that she made you want to make love). Colonel Papa le Bon wanted to walk away, but he came back. He came back because the woman had voluptuous sex-appeal, he came back and stroked the baby. He ordered his people to come and take the baby.
They came with a makeshift stretcher and took the baby. (You say a ‘makeshift stretcher’ when the stretcher has been made in a hurry. That’s what it says in the
Petit Robert
.) The dead bodies of the baby and the little boy were lifted on to the four-by-four on makeshift stretchers.
Colonel Papa le Bon climbed into the four-by-four. Four child-soldiers with AK-47s got into the car beside Colonel Papa le Bon. The truck set off. Everyone else followed, foot to the road. That’s right, foot to the road. (I already explained ‘foot to the road’ means walking.)
We followed them. We means Yacouba, the mother of the dead baby, and your servant, me, the street kid, in the flesh. The truck headed towards the village slowly and silently.Slowly and silently because it had dead people in it. That’s what you do in everyday life, when you’ve got dead people on board, you drive slowly and silently. We were optimistic because Allah in his infinite goodness never leaves empty a mouth he has created.
Faforo!
Suddenly Colonel Papa le Bon stopped the truck. He got out of the truck, everyone got out of the truck. Colonel Papa le Bon roared, a song that was powerful and melodious. The song was returned by the echo. The echo of the forest. It was the song of the dead in Gio. Gio is the language of the Black Nigger African Natives in these parts, it’s a patois. Malinkés call them bushmen, savages, cannibals on account of they don’t speak Malinké like us and they’re not Muslim like us. In our big
bubus
the Malinkés look like they’re kind and friendly but really we’re racist bastards.
The song was taken up by the child-soldiers with the AK-47s. It was so, so beautiful that it made me cry. I cried my eyes out like this was the first time I’d ever seen something terrible. Cried like I didn’t believe in Allah. You should have seen it.
Faforo!
Everyone in the village came out of the huts. Out of curiosity, to see what was happening. The villagers followed the four-by-four with the bodies in it. Out of habit and because people are stupid and always following things. It was a genuine procession.
The dead child-soldier was called Kid, Captain Kid. Now and again in his beautiful song, Colonel Papa le Bon chanted ‘Captain Kid’ and the whole cortege howled after him‘Kid, Kid’. You should have heard it. They sounded like a bunch of retards.
We got to the camp. Like all the camps in the Liberian tribal wars, there were human skulls on stakes all round the boundary. Colonel Papa le Bon pointed his AK-47 in the air and fired. All the child-soldiers stopped dead and fired into the air like him. It was like I was dreaming. You should have seen it.
Gnamokodé!
Kid’s body was laid out under the appatam (‘appatam’ is in the
Glossary
, I explained it already).
Crowds and crowds came past
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