In My Dreams I Dance. Anne Wafula-Strike

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СКАЧАТЬ teachers tried their best to be supportive towards me in the months after my mum died. My art teacher, Edward, was especially good. He was particularly well-loved by the pupils and we looked upon him as a father figure, a kind man and a fantastic musician too. He sometimes talked to me about my mum and how her spirit lived on and watched over me even though her body was no longer with us.

      ‘The Lord is watching over you,’ he said, ‘and so is your mum. You must do well in your studies to do her proud.’

      Even though I didn’t see the point of some of the things Edward was saying, it made me feel better to know that he was looking out for me. Like my dad, he believed in me and was convinced that I could go on to achieve great things in life.

      ‘Your parents gave you the name Olympia because they believed you were going to achieve great things,’ he reminded me. ‘You mustn’t disappoint them.’

      I didn’t want to disappoint Edward, but I was hopeless at drawing.

      He studied my hands carefully and said, ‘Let’s try and find what those fingers can do. Everybody has a special talent.’

      I longed to be able to draw like a pupil called Noah. He could look at someone’s face and translate it into a perfect image on a piece of paper. But however hard I tried, I couldn’t draw half as well as he could. I hoped that Edward was right and that some other talent would emerge.

      Happily, it already had. I loved singing every night and my voice turned out to be strong and tuneful. I couldn’t decipher the words to the James Brown songs my dad had listened to, but I could understand all the words in the a capella tunes on biblical themes we were taught, and I loved singing them.

      To my delight, the teachers often chose me to be the lead singer when we entered competitions and performed in different churches. They made sure I looked my best and put coconut oil on my hair to make it shine. Singing gave all of us at Joyland a huge amount of pleasure and always lifted our spirits. Anyone who walked around in the evenings would hear sweet music drifting from every dormitory.

      

      The school decided that because my mum was dead and my dad was often absent it would be better if I was adopted. They contacted a German family who agreed to take me. Little was explained to me and I was too young to fully understand what was going on. But I burst into tears when I overheard one of the house mothers talking to one of the Salvation Army officers about sending me away.

      ‘Does that mean I’ll never see my brothers and sisters again?’ I asked, sobbing.

      They looked startled that they’d been overheard. ‘No, no, Anne,’ said the house mother. ‘Please don’t worry, nothing has been decided yet. But if you do move you’ll have a better life—and so many toys.’

      I wasn’t worried about the toys, but the thought of suddenly being transplanted into a family of strangers in a strange land and never seeing my own family again filled me with dread.

      At that time my family and school were the only worlds I knew and I didn’t want to venture into any others. I became scared to go to sleep in case I woke up in a different place and couldn’t find my way back home. I was convinced that I could be snatched under the cover of darkness, and felt a rising sense of panic every time I watched the sun setting. I had received regular gifts from my German sponsors, high-quality books and toys that weren’t available in Kenya, and had always looked forward to receiving them, but now I was scared to accept them in case it made it easier for me to be taken away from Joyland.

      My dad hadn’t visited for a few months and once again I became convinced that he no longer wanted me. I lay down on my bed and sobbed. Things were going from bad to worse. First my mum had died, then my dad hadn’t come to visit and now I was being given away. I began to feel permanently frightened.

      I started to sit under a big, shady tree where I had a good view of the front gate. I kept my eyes fixed on that gate in the hope that my dad would appear to take me away. But he never did.

      After a few months, just when I’d given up hope of ever seeing my dad again, one of the teachers hurried up to me and said, ‘Oh, Anne, your dad has arrived.’

      Joy surged through me. I hugged and hugged my dad. He swung me round and round and seemed just as pleased to see me as I was to see him.

      ‘Oh, Dad,’ I said, ‘I thought you were never going to come back, I was sure you didn’t love me anymore. I beg you, don’t leave me here any longer. Please take me with you. I want to go home right now. They’re trying to send me away, but I don’t want to go. If they make me leave, I’ll never see any of you ever again.’

      My words tumbled out so fast they barely made any sense, and tears rolled down my cheeks, but my dad wiped them away with his handkerchief.

      ‘What kind of foolish talk is that, Anne?’ he said, stroking my hair. ‘I’m your father and I’ll always be your father. I’ll never abandon you. Please stop worrying.’

      Hearing that made me feel very happy. But I was still concerned.

      ‘I must go home with you now, because things can change,’ I said.

      ‘Nothing is going to change, I promise you,’ Dad said reassuringly. ‘You’re at Joyland not because we don’t love you or care about you but because this is the best place for you to get a good education and learn how to be independent. I don’t come more often because I can’t get too much time off from the army, that’s all.’

      We went to the dormitory and my dad spent a long time playing games with me. Having him all to myself was an exquisite luxury.

      ‘Don’t worry about anything, Anne,’ he said. ‘I’m going to speak to the Salvation Army people about your future. I’ll make sure that you’re not sent away. None of us wants to lose you.’

      Once again he left money with the staff to buy me the things that other parents brought their children because he knew that he wouldn’t be able to visit me often.

      ‘Just because I can’t be here with you as often as some of the other parents doesn’t mean that I love you any the less,’ he promised me. ‘If I don’t work hard I won’t be able to afford to send all of you children to school, and you know that making sure that all of you get a good education is the most important thing in the world to me.’

      I nodded.

      ‘I do understand, Dad.’

      But understanding didn’t make it any easier for me to cope with his long absences.

      

      A few weeks after my dad’s visit to Joyland a pupil called Tom died. We saw him being carried out of the dormitory in his bed with the covers over his face. Many of the children hadn’t come across death before and all of us suddenly became scared of simple things like going to the toilet alone.

      We mourned Tom. He had been a very quiet seven-year-old boy. Like me, he had walked on callipers and crutches. I never knew exactly what was wrong with him and we never discovered why he had died.

      ‘Don’t cry,’ said one of the house mothers soothingly. ‘Tom is at peace now. He’s in heaven and has become one of the stars. You can see him if you gaze at the sky at night.’

      Nobody had mentioned anything about stars to me when СКАЧАТЬ