Day 4 cont
Professor Abraham
I rushed back to our tent and quickly went ahead with my bag. I brought out some devices from the bag and switched them on.
I never really thought that I would be forced to use this and that too soon.
I waited impatiently for it to finish rebooting, and as soon as it was done, I went straight to the tracker in hopes that I would see her whereabouts soon.
But my heart sank deep as soon as I saw nothing. Nothing at all.
What does that mean? Well, for one, it means that she is definitely offline, but why and how? As far as I know, she has never taken off that ring.
That's right, the ring that she is wearing right now is more of a tracking device. I had given it to her in the first place so as to keep an eye on her all the time. But then the idea of having her as my wife also came to me, and now we can spend all the possible time together.
Just then, I saw a blink on the screen, and I was happy that she was back online. I traced the ring location and found out that she was in this tent.
But there is no one here for all I know apart from me, of course, so how come?
That's when I remembered that my ring is also a tracking device. It was originally designed as a pair ring for couples to help them track each other in times of need, and I really do need that now, it seems.
Now that I needed that the most, she turned out to be offline.
I threw the device back into the bag and sat on the bed.
Where could she be? I have failed her. I have failed to protect her, and now I will be responsible for it all.
This was the only tangible lead I had to finding her, and now it has been proven futile. So, where do I start?
"Excuse me, sir, I think we might have some leads as to where your wife went," someone called out to me.
"Where is she?" I ask.
"We haven't actually seen her, but we might have known where she went," he says.
"Where did she go?" I ask.
"He is outside, the person who saw her last," he says.
"Bring him in, quick," I say with so much enthusiasm.
I just hope she is not in much danger.
The boy walks in, and I see that he is one of the students, our students. But why didn't he say anything when I was asking earlier?
"I'm really sorry, sir; I was sacred earlier; that was why I didn't say anything," he says.
"Just tell me what you know," I say.
"I saw her at around eleven in the morning when she was roaming about the camp, and we talked for a bit, and when she left, I saw her heading into the jungle," he says.
"The jungle?" I half-screamed.
But I had to compose myself immediately after that. I am the main instructor, for goodness sake, and that means I need to be strong at all times.
"But have you seen her return?" I ask.
"No," he answers.
I took a deep breath, but whoever knows me too well knows that I'm just trying to hide my pain, even though it's too much to bear.
"Let's go search for her." That's all I said.
**********
Nina
I was waiting for the wild animal to come and feast on me, but it didn't come.
The footsteps had come real close, and then they stopped.
Could it be that the animal is trying to survey me first before eating me?
Why can't it just do the deed and be gone with it already?
I took a deep breath and decided it was time for me to face my deepest fear—my death—before it overtook me.
I slowly opened my eyes, expecting to see a vicious wild animal staring at me, but then I saw some people standing there.
They are all natives of Kenya. Just by their skin color, I understood that.
"Unafanya nini hapa?" One of the troop members asked, but I had no idea what he was saying, so I just kept quiet. (What are you doing here?)
I wanted to also ask them for help, but I don't know if they will understand me.
"Can you please direct me back to the Rhino Ridge camp site?" I ask.
They just stood there, staring at me.
"Nadhani amepotea," one of the men said to the other, and I just stared at them. (I think she is lost.)
"Na yeye hajui Kiswahili chochote inaonekana na sisi pia hatuwezi kusikia lugha yake, kwa hivyo tunaweza kumsaidiaje sasa?" the first person to start speaking says. (And she doesn't know any Swahili, it seems, and we can't also hear her language, so how can we help her out now?)
"Mike anaweza kumsaidia, nadhani lazima atakuwa njiani," another person says. (Mike can help her; I think he must be on his way.)
Sure, the language barrier is a bitch; I would have asked for direction, and then I'd be on my way already.
"Lakini wako nyuma sana," another spoke, and I let on staring like a fool. (But they are far behind.)
I just hope that they are discussing how to help me out, because if they leave me out here, I'm gone.
Just then, one of them walks over to me and sits down beside me.
He places his hand on my shoulder.
"Usijali, wako njiani na watakuja hivi karibuni," he says, still in the language that I do not understand. (Don't worry, they are on their way and will be here soon.)
But I understand that he is trying to comfort me, and that's great news, so I smiled back at him.
The rest of the men—five of them, actually—also found some place to sit.
"Thanks," I whisper.
I don't know if they could understand me, but I said it anyway.
"Kwa hiyo, unatoka wapi?" one of the men asks. (So, where are you from?)
I look up at them, trying to understand their conversation.
I made a promise to myself that I would try to learn this language as soon as I was back at the camp.
That is, if they are heading that way.
"Hakuelewi," another one said. (She doesn't understand you.)
The first person to speak looks up at me again and then lowers his head.
"Oh!" he exclaims.
From then on, they all kept quiet, and we sat there like logs of wood.
That's when I tried to study them.
They all seem to be wearing button-down shirts with long sleeves, and they are all wearing sand-colored trousers as well.
One of them is holding a huge bag. Maybe it's their luggage.
I look up at the sky and see that the sun is setting already.
I wanted to ask them why we were not leaving already, but I didn't know how.
But I still tried to give it a try.
I patted the gentleman beside me, and he turned.
"Please, can you show me the way to my camp? I am lost here." I ask him.
"Hmm?" he exclaims in question.
It seems like he doesn't understand what I am trying to say.
I kept on trying to show him sign language, which I don't know how to do, but I kept on twisting my hands up and down and showing the way.
He nodded at me and then walked up to their bag.
He opens the bag and picks up something.
I, along with all the others, just stared at him to see what he was doing, and then he came back and sat.
He handed me a pack of paper, which I quickly collected.
I really did think it was the map, but when I unwrapped it, I saw maize inside.
I looked up at him with a questioning look in my eyes.
"Kula," he says. (Eat).
I just kept on staring at him.
He motioned his hand to his mouth.
Oh! He wants me to eat.
I nodded at him, and he smiled.
I try to figure out how to start biting the maize.
Surely it's not raw, but it's not cooked either. I've never seen anything like it. It's like it was roasted, barbecued, or something.
It also looks mouth-watering as well; literally, my mouth is watering as I speak. That's the kind of effect the maize has on me, but I am still trying to figure out how to eat it.
I decided to just dig in, like we do sausages.
Soon, the seeds came apart and started dissolving in my mouth.
Wow! I really did taste amazing.
It's like it had been flavored or something, as the amazing taste was playing wonders in my mouth.
Soon, I quickly finished chewing the first bite and went on to the second, the third, and the last one.
I slowly whined as I checked to see that it had finished.
I looked up at the man, and he smiled at me.
He walks over to the bag and pulls another. He gave me the rest as well.
"Nadhani anaipenda," he says. (I think she likes it.)
Well, whatever it is he said, I sure am enjoying my snack.
Along with the rest, I dug into the flavored seeds and started eating.
They kept on having a conversation in their native language while I kept on digging at that delicacy.
"What are you guys doing here?" A voice came from nowhere.