“Is he with the government or with Pexton?” I ask.
“He’s not with anyone. He’s a newspaperman. He can write your story.”
“How’s that going to help us?” I ask. “Your driver just said that no one in Bézam cares about our story.”
“The people who’ll read the story are not in Bézam. They’re in America.”
“America?”
“Yes, America, the country of Pexton. My nephew works for a newspaper that is read by many people there…” He pauses, as if, having used too much air, he needs to await a new delivery. “American people like to hear stories of what’s happening in faraway places, so my nephew tells them stories about what’s happening in our country.”
“So your nephew is a Bézam man who works for American people?” Pondo asks.
Kumbum shakes his head. “No, he’s an American man…It’s a long story. His father is an American man, his mother was my sister…He moved here from America a few years ago…His story’s complicated. Please, just trust me, go see him.”
“Why should we trust that he’ll write the truth?” I say.
“Because that’s the kind of person he is. When you meet him, you’ll see for yourself. If there’s a story that he thinks needs to be told, he’ll tell it. He’s not afraid. He attends all sorts of meetings in Bézam to learn about people and write their stories…”
“And if he writes about us and the American people read our story—”
“When the American people read about what a corporation from their country is doing to children in our country, they’ll be angry. American people like to take action. Some of them might want to help you. I don’t exactly know what they’ll do, but—”
“But the Pexton people in America, they’ll read this story too, won’t they?” my uncle Manga asks. “What if they read it and tell their friends who also read it that our story is a lie and that your nephew is perpetuating falsehoods? The people in America have never seen our suffering with their very own eyes. No one from there has been to Kosawa, so Pexton can claim that they don’t even know us.”
Kumbum thinks for a few moments. “Yes,” he says. “That could happen.”
The Leader, who hasn’t said anything for a while, chuckles. “You all amuse me. You really do—do you know that?” We pay him no attention.
“Leave for Bézam first thing tomorrow morning,” Kumbum says. “Meeting with my nephew is the best chance you have. I’ll write a letter to him, introducing you. I’ll tell you how to find him. But first, please…you must let us go home. I’m begging you.”
Lusaka gestures for me to step outside. Manga and Pondo follow us. The four of us confer for several minutes and agree on what we must do. I must leave for Bézam the next morning to find the newspaperman. Lusaka and one other man will come with me; we’ll decide who later. For now, we have to get Kumbum healthy. We must move him to somewhere more comfortable: Woja Beki’s house. Pondo, as the husband of Woja Beki’s sister, is best positioned to go to Woja Beki and ask him to take in Kumbum. Pondo will remind Woja Beki that if a Pexton man who’s been declared missing were to die in Kosawa and his remains be found here, it wouldn’t portend well for Woja Beki’s relationship with the government and Pexton; he must do everything to keep the man alive.
The other two Pexton men and the driver will remain in Lusaka’s back room. My uncle Manga suggests that my cousin Sonni be responsible for making sure that the captives are well taken care of in Lusaka’s absence. I’ve never thought my cousin to possess much wisdom—he walks sluggishly and talks far too slowly—but this isn’t the time to declare that. I nod and pray Sonni doesn’t fail us. We carry on with the planning. A meeting of the men needs to be held immediately, so that everyone knows what’s going on. But first the Pexton men have to be told that they’ll soon be free. We must keep their hopes alive, lest the other three suddenly fall sick like chickens that have pecked on poisoned corn. We want them to walk with their own feet out of the back room. As soon as our delegation returns from Bézam, after having connected with Kumbum’s nephew and received a guarantee from him that our story will be told to people in America, and that such a telling will indeed make a difference, the men will be captives no more.
We re-enter the back room and tell the men our decision. They’re not happy about it, but they have no recourse.