The Fish's Belly
“Morning, Dembe. Morning, Don,” said Harry as he walked in later than the others. Donald and Dembe opened their hug to include him.
“It doesn’t get better than this,” smiled Harry, enjoying the embrace. And then taking his seat with the others, joked: “Gee, I got a fright this morning…”
“Yeah?” Daniel was intrigued.
“I looked in the mirror and this stranger looked back at me!”
The others laughed.
“Seriously, I’d forgotten about my visit to the barber. Man, I forgot how good looking I was.”
This time he laughed loudest at his own joke.
“Good to see you so well, my friend,” said Mac, grateful to have his friend back and at his bubbly best. He had been a little worried at how Harry would be after his capture, and with Donald’s birth father back in the picture—but he looked better than ever.
“BaBa, you’ve been able to get Suzie to open up?” asked Donald, a growing compassion for the grouchy woman with the dreadful scar welling up in his heart.
“Yes, Donald. She’s a wonderful person. But so hurt, deep-deep inside,” replied Dembe.
Mac marvelled at how Dembe deliberately used Donald’s new name, not once through the many hours they spent talking last night did he ever slip and revert to calling him Kato. It spoke volumes of the calibre of the man.
“There’s a proverb from this country,” Donald looked at his friends. “A child does not laugh at the ugliness of its mother. As a child of God, we must see the beauty behind the ugliness.”
“That’s good, Don,” cheered Daniel.
“She was a victim of the soldiers, too,” continued Dembe. The others gasped, Donald swallowed hard. “When she was about twelve, the soldiers attacked her village, killed her parents and took her, along with all the other children. The boys were recruited as soldiers, the girls … as slaves.”
“Oh no!” Rachel couldn’t hide her shock.
“When she was about fifteen, one of the soldiers beat her, cut her face. And she was left to die.”
Donald shook his head, “How many children’s lives have been ruined…?”
“She wandered around for a number of years, confused, homeless,” Dembe continued, “Eventually she made her way to Kampala and took a job as a cleaner here at The Fish’s Belly.
“For ten years she worked as the cleaner, learning everything it takes to run this place by observation. When the former manager of the inn just upped and left, Suzie took over and kept the place running. The owner of the inn only comes to check up on things every second month. When he arrived, he found Suzie managing the place so well; he just left her to it. That was seven years ago.”
“Wow, what a story,” gushed Rachel.
“So, what? That makes her only about, nearly forty? She looks older than that,” said Daniel.
“Yes, pain can make you age,” nodded Dembe. “Forgiveness and healing can make you young again.”
“I hear a good shave and hair dye helps, too. Hey, Harry!” joked Mac.
“Your turn is coming,” he warned playfully in response.
The laughter was hearty and deeply refreshing after the challenges of the last week.
“Oh,” continued Dembe as he speared a boiled egg with his fork. “Suzie mentioned there’s a bounty on your heads.”
19
“What?” gasped Mac, ahead of four other distinct gasps.
“She went to the market to pick up some eggs and things early this morning. The word on the street is that there is a reward of $500 for your capture.”
“Dembe,” Mac’s face was grave, “Are you serious?”
“Yes, Mac. I am.”
“Every bounty hunter and their pet snake will be after us,” blurted Harry.
“$500 for each. Or for all of us?” asked Daniel.
“For all of you. It may not sound like a lot of money, but for the poor, desperate people of Uganda. That’s over twelve months’ wages!”
“A year! But, but what do we do?” begged Rachel.
“I’ll go to the pharmacy and get some hair dye,” said Dembe. “We need to do everything we can to make it difficult for people to recognise you. And you’ll also have to stay at the inn, out of sight as much as possible.”
“And Suzie?” Mac asked the difficult question. “Can we trust her?”
“Yes, we can,” answered Dembe confidently.
“Should we perhaps offer her $500?” suggested Daniel. “It is a lot of money, but if it helped to keep our whereabouts concealed…”
“No,” Dembe replied, looking into his eyes, deeply into Daniel’s soul. “Daniel. That would insult her.” The rebuke was firm yet gentle.
“Sorry,” Daniel replied, feeling remorseful, but not condemned. “You’re right.”
Mac put a reassuring hand on his son’s arm, “Danny, Dembe is right, but to be honest, you only spoke out what I was thinking.” Daniel’s face beamed with his father’s understanding.
Turning to Dembe, Mac looked deep into his soul: “Thank you, dear friend. As Harry said, you are a gift.”
Dembe glowed and his face split again with an ear-to-ear grin. “It’s so wonderful to have a family. And Mac, you’re a … a beautiful father.”
This time a huge tear ran down his left cheek.
***
After finishing breakfast with a little urgency now that they knew there was a bounty on their heads, they returned to their rooms to discuss their plans further.
Dembe would go buy some hair dye as soon as they were done, and after dropping it off, he and Donald would first take a walk around the market. It was less than a kilometre from the inn, in the direction of the police station. This would give them an ear to what the word on the street was.
Afterwards, they would go check out the Blue Angus Hotel. Perhaps Marco was still staying there; maybe, they could gather more information on the General’s plans.
After dying their hair, the others would have lots of time to kill. Mac intended to email Roger Johnson with the latest update: the good news that Harry was with them, and that they anticipated the General arriving in Kampala on Monday. The details were unknown, but they presumed he would arrive by cargo plane.
***
By midday, the four newly-styled brunettes sat in Mac’s hotel room. While Rachel bemoaned her new look, Daniel thought he looked older. A seventeen-year-old guy always wants to look older than he is. Mac, or course, didn’t care much about whether his hair was blonde or brown.
After an uplifting time together in worship and prayer, Harry offered them a heartfelt apology.
“I’m so sorry I got us all into this,” he wept.
“Harry…” Mac tried to comfort his friend.
“When I got the email from Roger on Monday night,” Harry explained, “the one urging me to come to Uganda. I knew something was off. That still, small voice inside, God’s whisper, I had no peace in my heart, but I didn’t listen.”
“My friend,” Mac put his arms around his dear friend as he sobbed. He knew better than to offer cheap words in the face of another’s contrite confession.
“I’m so sorry…”
“We accept your apology. Receive God’s forgiveness, my friend.”
Daniel and Rachel gathered around the old man, and both hugged him.
“Cooped up in an inn called The Fish’s Belly for nearly three days is perhaps apt for me,” said Harry consoled. “I feel a little like Jonah. He disobeyed God’s voice and ended up in the belly of a fish.”*
* Jonah 1:1-17
Mac smiled, “Let’s hope you don’t smell like he must have after three days!”
“Daaddd!” snickered Rachel. “That’s a real Dad-joke!”
Mac smiled at his daughter, and then turned back to Harry. “But seriously, the General was probing, looking for any angle against us. If not this way; he would have tried something else. We’ve just got so much to be grateful for. Your escape, together now, Dembe…”
“I
still can’t believe that the man who rescued you turned out to be Donald’s father,” Daniel shook his head.
“Just incredible!” agreed Rachel.
“And you’re okay Harry, really okay?” Mac had to ask his friend again.
“Mac I am. I am so thrilled for Don ... and Dembe … and I’m not trying to be a hero here. I really am. And I’m also thrilled for me. I’ve made such a connection with Dembe. It’s like I’ve known him all my life. And to think he’s Don’s father.” This time happy-tears streamed down his face.
“You couldn’t make a movie this exciting,” grinned Daniel. “As the good Book says, “All things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose”.”*
“Amen,” said Harry. “So true Danny.”
* Romans 8:28
“Yes,” agreed Mac, “and it’s just incredible how all this has unfolded. Our New Hope project is at the very heart of all we’re experiencing here, to provide a long-term solution to the many orphans in central Africa…”
“And so many of them are victims of war and violence. Wars carried out on the back of illegal gun-running,” added Harry.
“And now we meet Dembe,” continued Mac, “who, if I understood his testimony correctly, is commissioned by God into this very situation.”
“Yes, how powerful was his testimony?” said Rachel.
“And now we know a little of Suzie’s story too,” reminded Daniel. “Also a victim of this horror story.”
“You’re right Danny, I forgot about that. Yes, Suzie too.” Mac was incandescent; he looked like a man who could see his vision coming to pass before his very eyes.
“God is faithful. Even when we are faithless, “He remains faithful; He cannot deny Himself”,” Harry quoted Scripture*, “He remains true to His character.”
“Amen, my friend,” agreed Mac. “Our confidence lies in His faithfulness, not our own.”
* 2 Timothy 2:13
“Dad?” asked Rachel, “What do you know about these soldiers that Dembe and Donald refer to? Why do they capture children?”
“I can see you’re deeply troubled by this, sweetie,” Mac touched her face tenderly as a solitary tear ran down her cheek.
“Yes. I don’t understand how people can be so cruel.” Her lips quivered.
“Rachel, I agree. I also cannot understand it,” replied Mac. “There is so much cruelty in our world today, and while I cannot get my mind around it, I know God calls us to do what we can to help those who suffer.”
“Dad,” added Daniel. “It’s a privilege to serve with you in this, even with the dangers involved…”
“Thank you, Danny,” Mac touched Daniel on the arm. “I would personally prefer something much safer to be honest, but here we are. The thing is, injustice happens all over the world. From Africa to Japan to Australia to the USA. Wherever God has planted His people, we’re called to stand up for those who can’t stand up for themselves.”
“Yes,” added Harry. “It may seem heroic to stand up against the General, but for a twelve-year-old to stand up against bullying at school, for example, it’s just as courageous. Or when a fifteen-year-old makes a brave decision to do right when her peers pressure her to do wrong…”
“You’re so right, Harry,” said Daniel.
“Dad,” Rachel continued, “who do these soldiers, Donald talks about, work for?”
“It’s rather a complicated story, but the short version is this. A man by the name of Joseph Kony recruited renegade soldiers into a militant cult army called The Lord’s Resistance Army or LRA, for short…”
“The Lord’s?”
“Yes, Kony has set himself up as some prophet in a mixed bag of various religions. The man’s mad and leads this crazy army in murder and mayhem. He is wanted by the International Criminal Court for war crimes and crimes against humanity. Many of his soldiers are child-soldiers recruited by their attacks on civilian villages.”
“How terrible,” Rachel struggled to contain her emotions.
“Are they still here in Uganda?” asked Daniel.
“Kony started in the late 1980s…”
“Before we were even born,” Daniel gasped, looking at his sister.
“Yes, they then terrorised northern Uganda during the 1990s, but have since been driven north by the Ugandan army where they continue to terrorise other countries. From what we know, Kony’s army is a lot smaller today, but is still unfortunately active. Kony’s yet to be captured.”
“But the destruction he has left behind him is really what New Hope is all about,” continued Harry, picking up seamlessly from Mac. “We want to give people new hope. A second chance at life.”
“And while this healing and salvation is only possible through faith in Christ,” Mac picked up the discussion, “We also need to answer the many other life issues: health care, housing, job opportunities … you name it.”
“Wow! Sign me up,” gushed Daniel.
Mac smiled, “We’ve already got your name, number and blood group!”
20
They ate dinner together behind closed doors. Suzie had closed both the restaurant and hotel to protect them, even though the weekend was her busiest time. She gave the chef the weekend off too; who turned out to be her cousin, another victim of the LRA.
Mac had insisted they cook their own food, so that the burden didn’t fall on Suzie, and after some gentle persuasion, she joined them for dinner … and every meal thereafter.
It turned out she spoke English well. And it was clear that she bathed in the presence of a family. Little by little her hard exterior melted, and the young girl in her—lost so many years ago—began to emerge.
Dembe and Donald had lots to share. Firstly, their visit to the market turned out to be very timely.
They had walked into a huddle of men gathered around a poster, a wanted-posted evidently placed by Marco and his soldiers.
The description had read:
REWARD FOR CAPTURE
One 40 year-old blonde white man
Two blonde white youths – one boy, one girl
$500 reward
Must capture alive
“And Marco had signed it, giving The Blue Angus as the address,” explained Donald.
Rachel stroked her dark hair. “Gee, Dembe you were right.”
“They were even discussing The Fish’s Belly,” Donald continued. “One man said he thought you might be here.”
“What?” gasped Mac anxiously.
Dembe put a gentle hand on Mac’s, and explained: “We told them we had just come from The Fish’s Belly, and that there were no blonde white people here…”
“Technically, it wasn’t a lie,” smiled Donald, putting out a hand to stroke Daniel’s hair in jest.
“We also told them to not trust the people who put up the notice,” continued Dembe. “I told them I know of this man Marco, and that he works for the General.”
“You should have seen how fast everyone disappeared,” chuckled Donald.
“No one wants to get involved with the General. Apparently; people have a way of disappearing around him.” Dembe took a sip from his water glass.
“Not surprised,” chipped in Harry.
“There’s a saying in Africa,” explained Donald. “The leopard that visits you is the one which kills you…”
“In other words, don’t cozy up with the leopard?” suggested Daniel, getting to grips with the proverb.
“Exactly!” said Dembe.
“We took down the posters we could find. Five of them around the market…” Donald put another piece of Nile Perch into his mouth, giving Suzie the thumbs-up. She had insisted on doing the fish, and had cooked it to perfection.
“…and after we were satisfied that there were no others discussing your whereabouts,” continued Dembe, “we went to the Blue Angus Hotel...”
“Marco’s still there…”
“… and we counted at least another five soldie
rs…” Donald and Dembe were finishing each other’s sentences.
Mac looked at Harry. A huge contented smile stretched across his face. He looked like a proud father admiring his two sons in action. In fact, he couldn’t help himself; the next words came out of Harry’s mouth were: “I’m so proud of you both!”
“Yes,” gushed Rachel. “What would we do without the two of you?”
Both Dembe and Donald grinned ear-to-ear … if ever a father and son looked alike; it was clear in that moment.
“And?” Mac was anxious for more Intel.
“The soldiers were dressed in uniform and were in and out the hotel; we assumed they were putting the posters up all over the city…” Dembe popped some Perch into his mouth.
“…yes, perhaps following up on any leads they thought they had,” continued Donald. “We saw Marco come out once. He was angry, shouted at one of the soldiers he spoke with before slapping him. And then went back inside again…”
“Gee, one of those soldiers is going to strike back at some point,” said Daniel.
“No,” said Donald. “An egg never sits on a hen…”
“What?” Daniel looked puzzled.
“Another proverb?” asked Rachel. “I like that that one.”
Donald smiled, “One of my favourites.”
“You’re on form, Don,” grinned Daniel. It was good to see his friend looking so well again; and why not, on one side of him sat Harry and on the other side, Dembe.
“Anything else, Dembe?” asked Mac.
“That was it. Nothing else to report,” smiled Dembe.
“Mac, what are you thinking?” asked Harry. “What’s the plan?”
“First, a big thank you … Dembe, Donald,” began Mac. Everyone applauded.
“Then,” Mac continued, “we can be pretty sure Marco’s plan is to stay at the hotel until the General arrives on Monday. Our best bet is to stake out the Blue Angus early on Monday, and follow Marco when he leaves…”
“Isn’t that a bit dangerous Dad?” asked Rachel.
“Well, we don’t have to be right on his tail. We’re pretty sure he’s on his way to the airport. His departure will just give us a clue as to when the General’s most likely to arrive. We can keep a very safe following distance.”