September 2001
Martin
BY THE END OF THE BREAK, my mother was back up on her feet, bossing everyone around. I’d never been so happy to wash dishes. On my last night home, Nation and I started laughing about it.
“What’s so funny?” my mother shouted as she brought more plates to clean.
“You,” I said. She swatted at me, and then went to finish tidying up.
Now that my mother was well, I could go back to school worry free. My bus left for Nyanga at nine the next morning. After breakfast, I said good-bye to my father and siblings. I hugged my mother for longer than usual. Her strength had returned. I could feel her squirm in my grip.
“No time for this,” she said, pushing me away. “You will be late for your bus.”
“Take care, Mai,” I said. “Go easy.”
“And you study hard,” she responded.
On Monday, Mr. Muzawazi started his weekly assembly with a pep talk.
“We are entering the final semester,” he started. “Half of you will be finishing your A-levels in December and heading to university to do great things. The rest have one more year to follow in their footsteps.”
I had started to think about what I wanted to focus on at college. My grades were good enough to apply for scholarships in Harare, but I was more determined than ever to pursue university in America. Ever since the hospital experience with my mother, I was more determined to study medicine. Rabbit was going to start his medical degree at the University of Harare that January, and I had a few other friends who were planning to do the same. Zimbabwe certainly needed doctors, and I wanted to make a living where I could actually help people.
I was mid-reverie when Mr. Muzawazi began his inspection. For some reason, on that particular day, he was easy on all of us. He walked briskly up and down the aisles nodding and smiling. No one was called out. It was strange in a nice way.
Two days later, at breakfast, another assembly was called. This was unexpected. We all started chattering in the dining hall about what it could be.
“Someone must be in trouble,” Rabbit said.
We filed into the assembly area quietly. Mr. Muzawazi was standing at the front with his hands clasped in front of him, his head nodded down, as if in deep prayer.
Once we all had taken our places, he spoke.
“Students, I have troubling news,” he said. “There was a terrorist attack on the United States.”
A ripple of sharp breaths and “How is that possible?” exclamations went through the rows of students.
“Two planes struck the twin towers in New York City,” Mr. Muzawazi continued. “A third hit the Pentagon in Washington, DC. And according to news I read this morning, a fourth plane crashed in Pennsylvania.”
I had never heard of the twin towers, though Mr. Muzawazi explained that they represented the financial capital of the United States. We had all heard of the Pentagon, and were shocked to learn that people had died as a result of this tragedy. But what alarmed me the most was the plane crash in Pennsylvania. That was where Caitlin and her family lived. What if the crash was near Hatfield? What if they had been hurt? With each new question, my throat constricted. I had to make sure Caitlin was okay. But how? A letter took two weeks to get to her. I shot my hand into the air.
Mr. Muzawazi stopped mid-sentence, surprised to be interrupted.
“Excuse me, sir,” I said. “But do you know where in Pennsylvania?”
He shook his head. “I’m afraid not, Martin,” he said. “All we know is that it was in the middle of a field, and everyone on the plane died.”
As awful as the news was, it made me feel better. Caitlin would have been in school and not on a plane. I could breathe again.
For the days that followed, everyone at school talked about the attacks. Not too long thereafter, we learned that the US and Britain were imposing sanctions on Zimbabwe, which was still involved in the Congo. While this was not directly related to September 11, the ripple effects of a changed world were being felt everywhere. The US was targeting any nation that abetted terrorists—that included my country. Still, I wasn’t worried about the global consequences—I wondered, would these sanctions impact my relationship with Caitlin? I prayed every night that would not be so.
I also prayed for news from Caitlin, and was relieved to return home for the Christmas break to a letter that said she and her family were fine. As always, her words put all my fears to rest. I wanted to offer her comfort with mine. They were still all I had.
Dear Caitlin and family, I wrote. I’m so sorry for the terrorist activities that rocked America and led to the loss of innocent lives. We Zimbabweans join you in this period of sorrow.
I asked if she had heard of the sanctions, and then added, I pray that all these potential problems and economic tensions between US and Zimbabwe will not affect our deep strong relationship.
There were so many things I wanted to share with her: namely, that I was considering medical school seriously. Caitlin had already reached out to a few places for me, and then my headmaster even gave me a list of more top schools to pursue. I included several in that same letter: If you could please contact New York University School of Medicine, Stanford University School of Medicine, University of Washington School of Medicine, University of Michigan School of Medicine on my behalf. I knew this was a lot, so I added, I’m sorry for giving you such a huge task. I know it is time-consuming and may be boring. Maybe you don’t have to do the whole task in one day, you may do it bit by bit. That is when you are free and feel like you want to do the tasks. So do not strain yourself! I thank you in advance for your help.
I sent the letter right before Christmas and was amazed to receive one from her only a few days later. Our missives had crossed somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean, I thought as I ripped open the envelope.
Folded in between the pale pink stationery was a piece of silver. It looked like a very thin candy bar. I unwrapped it to find a twenty-dollar bill. I shook my head in disbelief. I’d forgotten to ask for money to secure a passport. I needed one now that I was planning to study abroad. Somehow my friend from so far away must have already known that. This was a sign.