Harmattan Read Online Free PDF

                                                                                                                                                                                                                 
     3rd August, 1998

    Haoua Boureima
Child Ref. NER2726651832
Vision Corps International
Tera Area Development Programme
C/O BP 11504
Niamey
Republic of Niger
West Africa
    Dear Haoua,
    Thank you for your last letter and the drawing of your chickens! We love hearing from you so much!
    We are feeling very sad today because our pet guinea pig (Miles) died a few days ago. (We told you about Miles before, I think.) Katie and I decided to have a little funeral ceremony for him, and on Saturday, after swimmers, we invited our friends Roisin and Anna and our cousin Charlotte over to our house.
    We had found a little box in my dad’s workshop and used it as a coffin. Katie put it in our freezer in the garage, but I took it out again because I knew if my mum found it she’d go mad! We buried the coffin in our back garden, down near the duck pond. It was very sad. We had had him for almost three years.
    Roisin (whose daddy is a priest) said a prayer for Miles. I couldn’t stop crying for ages.
    Some good news: we are going to visit our friends in Dublin for Christmas. There are lots of shops there and really cool things to do. We can’t wait!
    Katie is at the dentist now but she sends her love and will write again soon.
    I hope you are all well there.
    Lots of love,
    Hope
    XXX

    ***

    I could not get Abdelkrim’s story of the ‘magic’ camera out of my mind the next morning. My Irish friends had continued to send photographs of themselves, their family, their home, their animals, and I was keen for them to hear – and see – that I too was growing, learning and proud of my family, friends and country. When we had first encountered Sushie, she and her Vision Corps International people had given me a number and photographed me for their files and records, but I did not like this photograph; it showed me wearing a grubby, striped blouse and looking confused and sad.
    I did not feel sad then.
    When I had finished my millet gruel and cleared up our dishes, I discussed my plan with Mother before putting on my best pagne and setting off happily for school.
    ‘Remember, child; your father will not be happy if you are very late,’ Mother called after me. ‘And stay away from the river!’ she added.
    ‘Don’t worry, Mother,’ I called back. ‘I will be fine. Be sure to tell Madame Kantao that Miriam is with me.’
    She shook her head in an exaggerated and exasperated manner, and went back into the house. Somehow, it struck me that it was not just concern for me that she was expressing, but a genuine desire for my father to be as happy as possible – even though he now seemed incapable of recognising this fact and seldom seemed to care.
    At first, Miriam was not keen on my idea because she was not wearing her best clothes – although I thought she looked fine.
    ‘If you had suggested this last night, I would have known, Haoua!’ she complained.
    ‘Please, Miriam,’ I said. ‘My mother has forbidden me to go alone. Besides; you will be able to send a picture to your sponsor too.’
    She seemed unconvinced. ‘I haven’t heard from my sponsor in over a year!’
    ‘But perhaps a photograph will encourage him to write more often.’
    ‘And perhaps he’s just a lazy oaf – like so many men,’ she said.
    ‘Well, you can give it to your mother then.’
    She tutted. ‘My mother won’t even know where I am!’
    ‘I’ve asked Azara to tell her,’ I said. ‘Come on. You look very pretty.’
    She was wearing a dark blue pagne , with a repeating pattern of azure flowers.
    Although it had been repaired in several places, it was quite pretty, but I had to agree that it was not her best. Mine, however, was a deep