Borogie dressed Matou and Bubel before sunrise for a visit to Jeshwang, where they boarded a lorry near the market for their journey. The morning air was still cool, carrying the faint scents of woodsmoke and damp earth as the family prepared for their travels. As Borogie prepared Matou, meticulously braiding her hair, she instructed, "Do not move too much. You have been in Bakau too long. You have forgotten that hair requires patience." Matou, who is twelve years old, countered with a hint of defiance, "In Bakau, they do not pull my head off to make me beautiful," to which Borogie responded, a wry smile playing on her lips, "Then perhaps that is why you came back with your head still full of stubbornness."
Bubel, younger and less concerned with the intricacies of hair styling, interjected, "Mama, make her hair like Khadjel’s," eager for his sister to look her best. But Matou quickly replied, "You have not seen Khadjel’s hair recently," implying a change or perhaps a less-than-perfect state. Later, as the lorry rumbled along the dusty tracks, Matou observed, a thoughtful expression on her face, "This road. It looks the same, but it feels smaller." Borogie, ever the pragmatist and dispenser of wisdom, clarified, "Roads do not become smaller. Children become larger." This simple statement encapsulated a deeper truth about perspective and the passage of time. Borogie later advised Matou, her voice firm but gentle, "Hold Bubel’s hand. Do not let go, no matter who calls you or what you see," emphasizing the importance of vigilance and responsibility on their journey.
A Morning Departure
They set out from Farato for their journey, the sun just beginning to cast long shadows across the landscape. The initial moments of departure were not without their minor challenges. Bubel, in his youthful exuberance, lost one of his sandals before they even left their compound, prompting Borogie to instruct him, with a touch of exasperation, "Go and find the other one before we leave you behind." The search for the missing sandal added a few minutes to their early morning preparations, but soon enough, they were ready. Borogie, ever prepared, carried a large, woven basket filled with provisions for the trip: fresh vegetables, roasted groundnuts for snacking, dried fish, and a clutch of eggs, ensuring they would not go hungry on their long day. As they prepared to depart, Borogie observed the scene around them, noting the children of the compound peering out, "Look at your children. They think you are leaving them forever," to which Matou, with a wisdom beyond her years, responded, "Do they?" Her tone suggested a deeper understanding of the transient nature of goodbyes and the certainty of return.
The journey commenced, the lorry a vibrant hub of activity and conversation. The vehicle made several stops along its route, pausing in Busumbala, Old Yundum, and Lamin, allowing passengers to disembark or climb aboard, and offering glimpses into the daily life of the villages they passed through. At each stop, the landscape subtly shifted, from bustling market areas to quieter, more rural settings. During these stretches, Borogie thoughtfully provided sustenance to her children, offering them slices of bread, handfuls of roasted groundnuts, and chunks of boiled cassava to ward off hunger. It was during one of these moments that Bubel, still preoccupied with his earlier thought, asked again, "Mama, make her hair like Khadjel’s," his admiration for Khadjel’s hairstyle evident. But Matou, ever quick with a retort, quickly replied, "You have not seen Khadjel’s hair recently," hinting at a reality that perhaps Bubel was not aware of. Borogie, seizing the opportunity to reiterate her earlier instructions, gently but firmly instructed Matou, "Do not move too much. You have been in Bakau too long. You have forgotten that hair requires patience." Matou, recalling her recent experiences, countered, "In Bakau, they do not pull my head off to make me beautiful," leading Borogie to remark, with a knowing look, "Then perhaps that is why you came back with your head still full of stubbornness." The banter between mother and daughter filled the air, a familiar rhythm of affection and gentle chiding.
The journey continued towards Abuko and Tabokoto, each village a marker of progress on their route. As the landscape rolled by, Matou observed, her gaze fixed on the familiar yet altered scenery, "This road. It looks the same, but it feels smaller." Borogie, understanding the deeper meaning behind her daughter's words, clarified, "Roads do not become smaller. Children become larger." This observation showed the theme of changing perceptions with age. Borogie also advised Matou, reiterating her earlier instruction, "Hold Bubel’s hand. Do not let go, no matter who calls you or what you see," emphasizing the importance of keeping Bubel safe amidst the bustling stops. They arrived in Serrekunda Market well past noon, the sun high in the sky and the market a cacophony of sounds and smells. Borogie, mindful of their remaining journey, urged Bubel, "Eat slowly. The road is still long, and I will not have you asking for food again before we reach Serekunda," to which Bubel, ever compliant, responded, "I will not ask." The stop in Serrekunda was a brief respite before the next leg of their travels. After their arrival in Serrekunda, the family sought another lorry to continue their journey towards Jeshwang, navigating the busy market to find the right connection.
Perceptions of the Road
Jeshwang announced itself through memory rather than a physical sign, a testament to the deep familiarity the family held with their destination. Matou, who is twelve years old, observed the journey with a keen eye, her mind processing the changes and constants around her. She remarked, with a sense of wonder and perhaps a touch of nostalgia, "This road. It looks the same, but it feels smaller." This recurring observation noted her developing understanding of scale and perspective as she grew older. Matou also reflected on past journeys, her voice softening as she stated, "I remember coming this way with all of you. Nata used to hold my hand so tightly." This memory brought a moment of quiet reflection, connecting her present experience to her childhood. She added, "I never wandered," when discussing her childhood travels, a statement that would later be playfully challenged by Borogie.
During conversations throughout the journey, Matou expressed her perspective on various topics, revealing her thoughtful and sometimes opinionated nature. When asked about her age, she stated, with a clear sense of self, "I am twelve." She elaborated on her understanding of relationships, noting, "Old enough to know when someone is unhappy," indicating a sensitivity to the emotional states of those around her. Matou conveyed, "She does not like living with him," in reference to an unnamed individual, a statement that would lead to a deeper discussion about marriage and personal happiness. When questioned further about the situation, she responded, "Then what is it about?" and upon hearing details, commented, with a discerning tone, "That does not sound good." She explained her view on compatibility, saying, "Because good people are not always the right people for each other," a mature insight for someone her age. She concluded a thought with, "Something like that," indicating a nuanced understanding that defied simple answers. Matou also anticipated unspoken questions, remarking, "You are asking with your eyes already," demonstrating her perceptiveness. Earlier, in a discussion about hair styling, she asserted, "In Bakau, they do not pull my head off to make me beautiful," defending her experiences away from home. When Khadjel's hair was mentioned, Matou interjected, "You have not seen Khadjel’s hair recently," adding a touch of humor and realism to the conversation. She also humorously noted a discrepancy in memory, telling someone, "You remember everything except where you leave your sandals," a playful jab at Bubel's earlier mishap. At one point, when asked about her feelings regarding leaving children behind, Matou responded, with a quiet confidence, "They know I will return." She also declared, with a hint of skepticism, "I do not remember that," in response to a specific recollection, noting the selective nature of memory, especially from childhood.
Family, Marriage, and Growing Up
The journey also provided a backdrop for discussions about family matters, particularly the complex situation involving Matou's sister, Nata. It was revealed that Matou's sister, Nata, had returned to Bukari's house following three months of recovery, a period that hinted at underlying difficulties in her marriage. Matou, with her characteristic frankness, stated that Nata "does not like living with him," referring to Bukari, prompting a significant discussion about the nature of marriage between Borogie and Matou. Borogie, drawing from her own life experience and cultural understanding, described marriage as involving "Duty. Patience. Families. Sometimes affection grows. Sometimes it does not." Her words painted a picture of marriage as a practical institution, often driven by familial obligations and the hope of future connection, rather than purely romantic ideals. Matou, listening intently, responded with a candid, "That does not sound good," her youthful idealism clashing with her mother's pragmatic view. To this, Borogie replied, "You are still young," suggesting that Matou's perspective would evolve with time. Matou, who is twelve years old, asserted, "I am twelve," a declaration of her growing independence and self-awareness, and then clarified, "Old enough to know when someone is unhappy." This statement showed her empathy and ability to discern emotional states, even those unspoken. Borogie, acknowledging her daughter's insight, conceded, "You are right. Your sister is unhappy. But there are some unhappinesses a person must decide how to carry." This profound observation spoke to the individual's agency in navigating life's challenges. Borogie also noted, in defense of Nata's husband, "No. He is not a bad man," indicating that the unhappiness was not necessarily due to malice but perhaps incompatibility. Matou then suggested, with a wisdom that surprised Borogie, that "good people are not always the right people for each other," articulating a sophisticated understanding of relationships. Borogie further explained that marriage is "not always about liking," reinforcing the idea that it encompasses much more than personal affection. Matou, seeking deeper understanding, asked, "Then what is it about?" Borogie's description of marriage focused on its practical and familial aspects rather than solely romantic ones, emphasizing the societal and communal roles it played. Matou concluded her thought on relationships with, "Something like that," indicating her developing perspective on personal compatibility within the context of family expectations and societal norms.
The Unchanging Landscape
As the journey progressed, Matou continued to observe the changing perception of familiar routes, noting, "This road. It looks the same, but it feels smaller." This recurring theme noted her personal growth and the way her childhood memories were being recontextualized by her present experience. Borogie offered a perspective on this observation, stating, "Roads do not become smaller. Children become larger," a profound truth that resonated with Matou's internal journey. Matou also recalled past journeys, remarking, with a touch of fondness, "I remember coming this way with all of you. Nata used to hold my hand so tightly." This memory was a vivid snapshot of her younger self, reliant on her older sister. Borogie responded that Nata "was always afraid you would wander off," though Matou asserted, "I never wandered," a testament to her self-perception as a responsible child. Borogie then recounted a specific childhood anecdote, "You once followed a woman selling oranges because you liked the colour of her basket. We found you halfway to another compound," to which Matou replied, with genuine surprise, "I do not remember that." This playful exchange between mother and daughter illustrated the subjective nature of memory and how experiences are recalled differently over time. After their arrival in Serrekunda, the family sought another lorry to continue their journey towards Jeshwang, navigating the bustling market with the practiced ease of seasoned travelers, ready for the final leg of their day's adventure.