Page 41 of Lau Ahi
“There is a group of people who could assist. I’ve known of them for a while, but they don’t move on issues unless it’s something brought to their attention.”
“And corruption in a country as small as Eritrea isn’t really a high priority.”
“Not saying that, many people are unaware of it. Think about the corruption that runs through the UK. The way the royal family is literally leasing out space for hospitals and emergency services getting paid a mint for it. When they did nothing to own the land to begin with.”
“That’s true.”
“And even in the US, especially in Washington. You can’t walk ten inches without hitting someone that’s crooked.” Abo continued with his examples trying to show the prevalence of corruption in both places I called home.
“You’ll hear no argument about that from me.”
“The agreement has been presented for you to be married to one of the men who might be able to assist me.”
I paused knowing that he hadn’t hinted at all this good he wanted to do in the world just to play on my emotions. That I wasn’t expecting from him. This was more of a line out of my mother’s playbook so having it come from him was frankly heartbreaking. I was thankful that he was smart enough not to speak. He made no attempt to rush along the conversation and I took my sweet time before I said another word.
“You’ve what?!” I jumped up from my desk as I screamed at my father with all the incredulity I was feeling.
“It sounds far worse than—”
My sarcastic chuckle cut through whatever bullshit he was going to spew. “No. There’s no way it could sound far worse because it sounds bloody awful as it is. You’re signing me up for a lifetime connection to someone I don’t even know. Barteringme in a way that you said you abhorred about other countries yet you’re doing the same thing.”
“Semira,I understand that you’re upset—”
“Don’t patronize me by calling me that now that you’ve made a mistake. Speak plainly.”
I was never short with my father let alone disrespectful but right now I was furious. Furious because he knew to come to me with this and no one else. It was too late in the day for this to have been something he’d just thought up. He’d been planning it for a while and the idea of being used as a pawn and having my future decided for me was something I couldn’t stomach. Not from him.
“This isn’t some decrepit old man, Asha. He’s only a few years older than you are and more than able to take care of you. His finances far exceed mine and you would probably find him attractive.”
I gripped my scalp through my hair wanting to stab something to break the hold my anger had on me. The carefully selected pillows would be in shreds and I would have to clean up a metric ton of feathers when I calmed down but I didn’t care.
“What does his being attractive have to do with anything? I can’t stand the thought of being used to secure a deal yet you want me to smile like an obedient child and agree to this.”
“Have you ever known me to do anything to harm you, Semira?”
I hated when he used my given first name. Not wanting to cause us issue we normally went by our English first names. Well, Sasha’s English first name. My mother didn’t care that my name actually had meaning; she only named me Asha by taking away the S in my twin’s name. She said I was always destined to live in her shadow and to be less than her so my name should reflect it.
Fucked up that she would even admit to it.
My father named my sister and me with our Eritrean names. Ironically, mine started with an S and Sasha’s started with an A. If you let him tell you the story he’d say it was purposeful. Sasha’s actual name wasAsmarinanamed after the capital of our country and it meantunited. The name suited her perfectly because Sasha had the type of personality that served as a bridge between groups of people. Abo named me Semira, the highest point of heaven.
And yet here he was dragging me into hell with some man. It would’ve been more apt to name me Persephone.
How is this my life?
“Abo—”
“Answer me, Semira Asha Afwerki.”
He was pulling rank using my full Habesha name instead of the English one. In Habesha culture, which was prevalent in Ethiopia and Eritrea the father’s first name became his children’s surname. My father’s Habesha name was Afwerki Senai and it was the name that he used when he wanted to be inconspicuous around the world.
“No, Abo, you’ve done nothing to purposefully put me in harm’s way.” I flopped down in my chair wishing I’d gone to work in some capacity so I could have had a reason to avoid this call.
“I like how you added the qualifier on there as though I wouldn’t understand the reason. But my love for you has never faltered, Asha. Do not call it into question now when things are falling into place. I’m asking for your trust with something that seems immense but I promise you that things will be better in the end.”
“Who is this person and what do we know about him?”
“He lives in DC and I don’t think that will be changing when he inherits the family business so I’m sure that you can continue your work at the university.”
