Kagwe

October 4, 2008 Language Arts  Becoming Clear Kagwe awoke with a beating in his head. The captain’s scratchy voice was blaring over the loud speaker, “Ladies and gentlemen, we are scheduled to land in New York City in eight hours. Please have your seats in the upright position and tray tables up and locked for takeoff.” Kagwe opened his small window, and gazed out at the war torn village that he once called home. It was the last time he’d ever see his small town in Kenya, Africa. It was just him and his mom now. His father, a soldier, was killed in the recent attacks on Baoga Village in Congo. The news came in the Sunday paper along with the list of the 12 other soldiers killed or seriously injured in the past week. His mom had collapsed and cried for days in their little hut while the neighbors collected fresh vegetables from their farms, and fish from the nearby lake. Kagwe accepted washing the dishes without many words, and carried them inside to the fridge where he stacked them with all of the other meals from grieving friends.  Now they were off to New York with only an address written on a small piece of paper. His mom’s sister and her husband had moved to America a few years before, when the war began. They knew it wasn’t safe to stay and they didn’t want their newborn daughter growing up in a world of war. Kagwe remembered his small cousin on the day she was born, and the smile on his aunt and uncle’s faces. Now, it was nothing more than a blurred vision in the back of his head. Like the small letters on the eye test that he performed at the doctor’s office, you strain to see them, but all you can make out are little blurs. They had been the first to leave from the village though, but definitely not the last. Many more families had moved and pretty soon there were only a mere 100 people left. Now, Kagwe and his mom were gone, leaving forever to reunite with his mom’s family in a place called New York. The small, poorly built plane started to speed quicker and quicker until the wheels suddenly came up and they were flying. He pressed his nose against the warm glass and tried to take in as much as he could. He could see his village along with the small airport where he had spent the last 14 years of his life. Everything was getting smaller now, but Kagwe could have sworn he saw his best friend Muchane waving at him from the center square. Eventually, the plane rose above the thick clouds making everything opaque. He didn’t want to leave. He didn’t care if there were debris littering the streets, or half burned buildings a couple of minutes away in the next town. It was his home, and as far as he was concerned, it should always be. Fifteen minutes of flying had gone by and Kagwe’s mom was already asleep on the seat next to him. The captain was going on about the emergency exits and how you shouldn’t smoke aboard the aircraft. Kagwe remembered how much he had begged his mom for the window seat, but what good did it do now? All he could see were puffy white clouds and the sun beaming into his face. What a horrible day. He closed the shade and rested his already homesick head on the seat pillow, and drifted off to sleep.  Kagwe acquired a daily routine that helped make his parents’ lives easier along with his own. Every morning, he assisted his mother retrieving heavy jugs of water from the nearby lake. He and his mother then made a second trip to the lake to wash their clothes from the day before. Since this lake was also where every other family in the village gathered their water, it was Baoga Villages’ primary water source. He also enjoyed looking at the large array of fish and insects in and around the lake.  Three times a day, Kagwe always vigorously picked around a pound or two of vegetables and fruits from their family farm. While this was back-breaking work, it was well worth it since their family ate these for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. After transporting the food back to their hut, his mother prepared it for actual consumption. This included adding spices, cutting, cooking, etc.  On Sundays, Kagwe’s chores were drastically shortened. His mother and father were also free for most of the day. During Sunday mornings for an hour, Kagwe along with the rest of the tribe gathered into the village square. This was when and where their tribal ceremonies took place. In the ceremonies, they sang and recited poems about the chief and his family. They also recorded the obituaries for the people who died the previous week, discussed conflicts of the other tribes, recorded surplus numbers, and mentioned any other problem that might have happened the previous week. Sunday was also when Kagwe could bond with his family along with hanging out with his friends. During midsummer, Kagwe and his friends frequently swam in the lake to rid the feeling of that Kenyan heat.  Back on the plane, one of the female flight attendants made an announcement about the in-flight meal. There was a choice between the five dollar snack pack and the ten dollar tuna fish sandwich. Most people couldn’t even make that kind of money back in Kenya in a month. Therefore, Kagwe and his mother passed the offer. Kagwe once again gazed out the window, but the clouds were so thick that he couldn’t see anything. He drifted back off to sleep, dreaming of one of his early memories back in Baoga Village.  He dreamed about his ninth birthday party that was celebrated along the nearby lake. When all of his friends arrived, they immediately dived into the water. They had enjoyable swimming contests with prizes such as an extra slice of cake. They also caught a kimba fish which put a huge smile on Kagwe’s face. Kagwe even helped his father cook it over the fire which was a delicious treat for him. After that, they opened presents that were from all of his companions. He especially remembered his best friend’s, Muchane, present. He gave him an exotic wooden yoyo that Muchane stored in his small closet. Kagwe was always jealous of it. It was made out of beautiful mahogany which was adorned with intricate carvings that looked like a family or tribe holding hands to show respect and love. Once all of the presents were opened and praised, they all devoured the birthday cake. It was layered with vanilla icing and sprinkles with the soft bread underneath. It was a delight to Kagwe’s taste buds. Sadly, after the party ended, everyone had to return home. Kagwe regarded this as one of the most thrilling experiences of his lifetime.  Kagwe woke up from his dream when a flight attendant snapped that his seat belt was unbuckled. This made him very annoyed since he was relaxing and sleeping. She could have just let his mother buckle it for him without waking him up. As a result, Kagwe buckled his seat belt to please the obviously impatient flight attendant. Well, I guess she was just going her job to earn money for her family. Outside of the window, the clouds slowly started to thin, but it was still too hard to see anything. Kagwe drifted back to sleep and dreamed of one of his other memories which didn’t turn out so well. <span style="FONT-SIZE: 12pt; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman','serif'">- <span style="FONT-SIZE: 12pt; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman','serif'"> JEN’S AREA (FLASHBACK AND BACK TO THE PLANE) <span style="FONT-SIZE: 12pt; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman','serif'">- <span style="FONT-SIZE: 12pt; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman','serif'">Kagwe dreamed of the day before when soldiers came into his village during the middle of a worship ceremony. Kagwe and the rest of the tribe knew they would get into their village eventually, but they had not been expecting them so soon. The soldiers ran through Baoga Village and set everything on fire. People were running out of the town square screaming for help and attempting to get into their houses for their valued things. The soldiers even torched people and animals and used a machete to cut off Kagwe’s neighbor’s dog’s head. The barbaric soldiers were nothing but heartless and brutal. His mother tried to get into their hut and save the picture of his father that they always kept, but it was already gone when she got inside. Smoke was literally everywhere. It made Kagwe’s eyes water and his skin prickle as he tried to go into their small hut to try to relax his mother. She was heaped on the floor crying for all that had been lost. Eventually, she calmed down enough so that she could finally speak words again. The next day, she wrote to Kagwe’s Uncle and Aunt in America asking if they could come to live with them. Two weeks went by with no response. On the third week, Kagwe and his mother finally received a letter with airplane tickets in it. Their plane would be scheduled to take off in three days to JFK Airport at New York City where his aunt and uncle lived. Therefore, they would be leaving everyone they knew for their whole lives behind in three days. Kagwe spent the rest of the day packing what little he had left. The next day, he went to Muchane’s hut so he could see him one last time. Kagwe gave him the address for his house that he would be moving to in New York City and told him that he would write to him when he got there. Kagwe had only one day left to spend time with the rest of his friends. However, Kagwe stayed home and refused to see anyone else. He was too upset and did not want to be reminded that he would most likely never see them again. Kagwe cried until he fell asleep.

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