4. Starving Alone

Sarah Easter

by Sarah Easter

Story
Somalia 2023

They lift him silently onto the back of the truck. His mother’s hand lingers on his leg for a second, and she seems to want to say something.

“Amina,” his father calls out, and his mother lets go of him and turns to her husband.

“Bashir is only eight, Ibrahim,” she calls.

He will starve staying with us,” he states.

“I will eat less. I can give him my food, please, don’t do this. He is my only son,” his mother is crying now. Bashir wants to reach out to her, but he sees his father nod to the truck driver and the engine starts.

“No. No, please. My son!” his mother screams and moves toward the truck, but his father grabs her by the shoulders as the truck starts moving away.

Away from the only home he ever knew. Away from his parents and sisters. Away from his sheep and towards a foreign country and a life he knows nothing about.

Bashir wraps his short arms around his too thin body to stop the shaking. Then he turns to the other passengers. They are all huddled on the dirty floor holding on to their belongings or their children. The faces are empty as they stare down, trying to avoid eye contact. Only one elderly lady looks directly at him, and he hurries to look away. She reminds him of his grandmother who had died a few weeks ago, because his family did not have enough to feed her.

Bashir had yelled at his father when she was growing weaker, and death was waiting for her last breath. They still had sheep. They could have sold them for food, but father refused. He was still hoping to save the dying herd to find a way back to more comfortable days.

“It will rain, and then we will need the animals, or we will all die,” he had said. Grandma died the next day and Bashir never said a word since.

After driving for hours, the truck suddenly stops. “Out!” the driver shouts, and they all get out awkwardly. Their limbs stiff from the long drive. He looks around, but there is nothing to see. Just the vast emptiness of the desert. No plants, no animals, no people, just sand, rocks, and dust.

“The Kenyan border is that way. Don’t use the main road and don’t walk together. Once you are across the border, the refugee camp is about 90 kms away. Just walk straight, you won’t miss it,” the driver says, nods and gets back inside the truck.

“What? You are not taking us all the way to Dadaab?” a woman asks, and Bashir hears her fear as she holds her baby tightly.

“No! Start walking,” the driver yells at her, as he turns the truck to go back where he came from. Fear grips Bashir’s heart. His body shakes violently. When the truck disappears, he turns toward the border and starts walking towards either a better life or to starve alone.

© Sarah Easter 2023-09-25

Genres
Novels & Stories
Moods
Dark, Emotional, Sad
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