Page 41 of Eternally London

“One in every one thousand four hundred babies is born with albinism in Tanzania. The world average is one in every twenty thousand, so albinos are more prevalent here. In fact, Tanzania and Malawi have the highest albino populations in the world. Many Africans believe that albinos are ghosts that cannot die, not human. Some witch doctors have said that the bones of albinos contain magical powers that can make one rich, cure any disease, and bring good fortune. Witch doctors will use the bones of albinos in potions.”

I raise my hand to my mouth. I was given some of these details prior to coming here, but hearing them again makes my stomach turn.

Abdu looks to me. “Yes, it is very horrible. You have to understand that the average yearly income of someone in this country is just over four hundred of your dollars. An albino limb is sold on the black market for two thousand of your dollars, and an entire corpse will go for seventy-five thousand dollars. The temptation for some in extreme poverty is too great. That is why albinos are hunted here.”

I stand under the pretense of needing to stretch. I’ve read all these facts, but it’s different, being here and hearing these vile words spoken aloud. My thoughts are already going to the people I will meet over the coming weeks. My heart races with apprehension.

Oliver nods at something Abdu said and takes a sip of beer.

“There are over six thousand registered persons with albinism in Tanzania. The actual number though is somewhere around seventeen thousand, as most are undocumented. There are dozens of known murders of albinos every year in this country, but many more take place in rural areas where secret rituals are performed that we do not know about,” Abdu continues to cite facts with no hesitation.

“Tougher laws have been put in place here, in East Africa, to help those with albinism. Killing an albino in all countries, except Rwanda, is punishable with the death penalty. However, these laws have done little to help this community. People need to be educated, so they understand what it means to be albino.

“On our trip, you will meet some people who are trying to educate others. You will see some of the boarding schools and camps where albinos live. You will hear stories from those who’ve been attacked or witnessed an attack.”

Abdu pauses to let us take in his words. “Any questions?”

I’ve yet to fully process everything he just said. I’ll have to listen to the recording later to hear it again. Some of it is so unreal that I’m having a difficult time believing his words.

“What are our plans for tomorrow?” I ask.

“Well, tomorrow, we are going to drive to the oceanside village of Lindi. It’s about a four-hour drive south. There is a hospital that predominantly helps persons with albinism.”

“Okay.” I nod, feeling myself pale. “I’m going to head to bed, if you don’t mind.” After two days of travel, extreme jet leg, and the words I just heard, I need some sleep.

I say my good nights and head to my room. I pray I dream of Loïc and our life back home. I need a dream rich in first-world problems to coat me with happiness and give me strength for this trip. I have a sick feeling deep within my gut that I’ve bitten off more than I can chew. I’m strong; I know that. Yet, the people here, they’re warriors, literally fighting for their lives.

Shortly after exiting the hustle of the big city, the paved roads turn to dirt ones, and modern buildings all but disappear. We drive long distances without seeing any buildings. The green grasses and shrubbery are the only things that line the road. This is more like the picture I had in my head of Africa. The windows of Abdu’s vehicle are rolled down. It’s hot and sticky, and it smells of soil. I can feel a coating of dirt on my skin, and two hours into our journey, I’m dying to shower.

Up ahead, I see white-and-black stripes, and I half-shriek as I tell Abdu to slow down. “Oh my goodness, Abdu! It’s a zebra!” I pull out my phone and snap pictures of the mother zebra and her baby eating grass a mere fifteen feet off the road. “This is amazing. Can you believe there are wild zebras here?” I say to the men in the front seats.

They both snicker.

“Yes, Miss London, we do have zebras,” Abdu says.

“But they’re wild, walking around.” I point to the two animals.

“Yes, they live in the wild,” Abdu says, a grin on his face.

“Wow. That’s so cool. I mean, I guess I knew that. It’s just neat to see them.”

Abdu drives past the zebras and speeds up.

“In my country, I see deer on the side of the road sometimes, if I’m in a rural area. I suppose it’s the same here but with zebra.”

“What’s a deer?” Abdu asks.

“It’s similar to an impala,” Oliver answers.

“Oh, we might see an impala or two as well,” Abdu says.

“That would be awesome. Hey, Abdu. Are there any rest stops coming up?” I ask. The coffee and water that I had this morning have gone right through me, and if we hit too many more potholes, I’m going to pee my pants.

“Rest stop, miss?”

“Yes, a bathroom?” I clarify.

Abdu pulls the vehicle over to the side of the road. “Here you are. I have to go as well.” He opens his door and starts to get out.

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