THE PICTURE

Umi gazed into the wall. The group of ants trailed after their implicit leader in a single pile, forming a sharp zigzag sometimes a wiggly line, they were so tiny. Umi wondered if their tiny feet dirtied their floors back in their homes, the wall was clean but dirt is always in every organism, nature is so natural, or maybe they also sweep and clean, like us. She cannot remember learning anything from the episode last night. The National Geographic channel was always on. No one else in the house bothered to switch channels. Of course no one could. It requires more than one adult to show interest in different things and bring diversity to the screen from the viewer’s end. She thought the flowery nature somehow blended with the décor in the house. It was good when, if someone came in, they saw a moving picture of whales in turquoise waters full of corals or a beautiful green landscape with a blizzard of butterflies.

She couldn’t focus on one ant, unless she was ready to count them every single time; I am watching ant number twelve. They all look the same, going after something, Umi would not be bothered to check and maybe there is a packet of flour spilled at the back of the shelf. She let out a sigh thinking about it; holding a small basin of water with a towel and soap ready to wipe down every surface. Oh no. 

A strong slap with a full open palm landed on her shoulder, her distant gaze at the ants blurred as it pulled out, shifting to her right. 

‘Aunty, look I found this picture of grandma and you…’ a chuckling nine year old was jumpy, her cheeks were brightened up, not with blush, this child had a face that pulled up every expression in the book. When she smiled the corner of her eyes curved with the lips, shinier as ever, always. The blood filled up her cheeks at that moment, the liveliness she had within her was strong. This always made Umi sad. This child will grow up into a world where her light will be dimmed and dreams stepped on. Despite this, Umi knew she couldn’t judge the world. 

‘Ooh, yeah sweetie,’ said Umi, her words sliding out of her mouth coated with the plasticity of repetition. Her heart went out to all mothers out there who got tired faking interest and joy every five minutes their toddlers showed them the same thing. She took the picture from the child’s hand and looked at it. Her stomach turned into stone. The child beside her called out, seconds passed and she was mumbling things, gibberish Umi couldn’t perceive with her gaze trained on the picture.

She was wearing red holding her mother’s hand. It was a trip they had to the Maasai Mara. They got into the van with five other families and children her age were also on it. A girl sitting by the window being sandwiched by her mother had smiled at her as if to say, when we alight we will play catch. Umi smiled back and cherished the unspoken promise for the rest of the ride, which to them seemed to take forever. She watched her leaning against her mother’s thigh, her eyes shutting on and off, the vibrations of the vehicle’s engine getting to her. 

The lady beside the driver asked them to get off the van, and to please not feed any animals in the enclosure. They wore their netted side shield sunglasses and stepped off. The air already had a hue of orange, light reflecting off the red soil. The adults walked briskly ahead leaving the kids behind and crowded them out of view. Umi caught up with the other kids and started playing with them. They all had furrows in their foreheads, the sun was harsh but them being children, energy had to leave their bodies at every wake. That is how they grow. 

A Maasai lady came to them and handed them beaded bracelets and left. They started playing catch which shortly turned into them racing and grabbing each other’s clothes. The adults were far away listening and humming at the guides spiels about the animals’ life story and whatnot. There was a cliff shielded by barbed electric wire on the other end of the field, the wires were a bit apart but effective at keeping away animals from crossing over, or humans. 

Lacie’s bracelet was grabbed from her hand by one of the boys and Umi was close by, laughing and shaking Lacie too. The bracelet fell off, its string slit letting the beads drop to the thick soil beneath, the thickness swallowing them in. There was some silence before Lacie let out a deep groan. She was livid, heaving and clenching teeth.

‘It is your fault, I am taking this one…’ she turned around and grabbed Umi’s bracelet. It did not come off, only caused a deep red mark on Umi’s gentle wrist. The anger boiled over because of this and they started grabbing and hitting at each other. The other kids were silent, shocked, staring at this strange fight between two small girls. They were heavily breathing and whiffing when Umi felt a shock through her hands, in her child brain she thought Lacie had bitten her, she shook her in retaliation and held her head in her tiny arms, jamming it against the pole that held a loop of the wire. She couldn’t remember ruining the bracelet, the boy had already grabbed it when Umi pulled her back and Lacie was so annoying, why pick her? She didn’t do it. She hates it when people blame her for things she didn’t do. It happened in school and this girl is ruining her trip for her too. 

Lacie started shaking vigorously, her eyes rolling backwards. Umi was still bathing in a toxic concoction of anger and vengeance, but she saw the white in Lacie’s eyes and her heart jumped to the base of her throat, the world around her shifted from bright light to darkened fear, she pushed the little Lacie through the wire. Lacie fell softly and smoothly, pausing for a while, being supported by an embedded rock which eventually let go and she rolled over and over, like a ball, sweeping small brushes and branches along with her. Some grabbed into her hair pulling and letting go because of the weight until they couldn’t see her anymore. Umi’s eyes widened as she came aware of what was happening. There were screams in the air of children calling out their parents and running. 

The sadness would never wash away, she couldn’t bring herself to remember the trouble she put her parents through and having to go to therapy. She remembers the men in suits talking in low tones, and her trying to talk to her mother who didn’t respond, the dark circles around her eyes had all the answers. She folded the picture and slid it under the sofa. The child beside her was leaning on her thigh, like Lacie. Umi took her and placed her aside laden with guilt, she wished she never had her; knowing that there were times she lived as if this memory wasn’t a real thing, now it is as if she carries it with her. It would be better to suffer alone. She will always remember hoping to heal one day.