The dumb slave

It was my very first time I had been invited to dinner in the desert and it was an invitation for dinner in an extremely rich Sahara man’s home, I actually didn’t know the host at all.

The host’s cousin’s wife’s brother ‘Ali’ told us this rich man didn’t easily invite anyone to his home, it was because we and the other three Spanish couples were Ali’s friends, so that we were invited and could taste kebabs that were made out of camel’s hump and liver.

After our feet stepped into a vast white room which was more like a maze, I just couldn’t see myself behaving like the other guests just sitting on the beautiful Arabian rugs and waiting to eat the good food that would possibly make people throw up.

The host came to socialise with us for a brief moment then went back to his own room. He was old but looked like a very wise Saharan man, he smoked a long pipe, also spoke an elegant French and Spanish with an tacit and quite laid back proud manner.

He let Ali entertain the guests, by the time I finished looking at the covers of the beautiful books; I politely asked Ali if I could go to the inner room to see the host’s beautiful wives.

“You could, please do go inside, they want to see you too but they are just too embarrassed to come out.”

I wandered to the room alone and saw one of the most glamorous bedrooms I had ever seen in the desert, a big high ceiling to floor mirror, Simmons mattress beds and beautiful women. I also saw countless gold and silver thread body wrap clothing which were rarely seen in the desert.

I so wished that Jose could had seen all these young and gorgeous pretty wives of the host but they were too shy and weren’t willing come out to see the guests.

When I was slowly walked back into the sitting room and appeared wearing a borrowed red woman’s dress and I had covered up my face; all the gentlemen jumped off from their seats and they thought I had became the fifth wife of the host.

I thought my dress was very appropriate for the mood of the room, I decided not take it off and only lifted off the cover from my face; I was sitting there just like that and waiting to taste the greatest dishes in the desert.

We had not been waiting for too long, a little child who wasn’t even higher than a wooden bench came up with a burning barbecue stove, he had a humble smile on his face and looked to be not even older than eight or nine years old.

The child carefully put the burning stove in the corner then went out again, in a short period of time he came back with a huge silver tray in his hands and walking swingingly in front of us, he put the tray on a red colourful patterned big rug. The tray had silver teapots, a silver sugar box, bluish green fresh mint leaves and perfume on it, there was  tea heating on a tiny little charcoal stove.

I was amazed and my soul was caught by those clean looking splendid tea sets.

At the start this child gave us a light bow before standing in front of us and sprinkling the perfume on everyone’s hair from a silver white perfume bottle; it was such a very grand courtesy.

I lowered my head down to let this child sprinkle perfume on me, he wouldn’t stop until my hair was completely soaked with perfume. For quite a while, the aroma filled up this room nicely just like an Arabian palace, the atmosphere was moving and solemn.

In this situation, the Sahara people’s strong body odour was completely obscured.

After a while had passed, the child quietly brought in a big bowl of raw camel’s meat and a metal rack had been played on the charcoal stove. The group were speaking loudly to each other, the two other Spanish women were talking about their children; it was only myself who was quietly observing every movement of this child.

The way he was doing his job was very much in order, he firstly pushed the skewers through the pieces of meat before barbecuing over the fire.

In the meantime he also looked after the tea on the charcoal stove and when the tea was boiling, he put some fresh mint leaves plus some rock sugar in. Then he discarded the tea leaves away and he lifted up the tea pot much higher than himself and poured the tea into little cups, it was so splendidly done.

When the tea was ready, he bent down in front of us with his both hands lifted up to offer the cups to us; it was a cup of strong good delicious tea.

When the first batch of skewered meat had cooked, this child carried a big tray with the meats on it around to us.

The camel hump was very fatty only the meat and liver from the camel could be reluctantly put in the mouth. The male guests and myself took one of them each to eat and the child looked at me intensely; I smiled and showed my gratitude to him that the food was good.

When I took a second skewer, the two rustic Spanish Mistresses started shouting without any sense and manners. 

“Oh my god! It can’t be eaten! I am going to throw up! Quick! Give me some soft drinks!”

When I saw them behaving in such a bad manner like that, I just felt so embarrassed for them.

I was the only woman who ate the food and the host had prepared a large amount of the food for us. I thought to myself, having asked a little child to serve us, we were like a bundle of useless rubbish sitting down to eat, it wasn’t interesting at all. I preferred moved myself to get close to the child and he and I sat together. I helped him prepare the meat and served myself to eat. The taste of the camel meat wasn’t too bad if you sprinkled lots of salt on it.

This child lowered his head while working at his job but the corner of his mouth always smiled away, he looked extremely smart and cute.

I asked him: “A little piece of meat, a slice of the camel hump plus a liver, string all of them together and put some salt on it, is that right?”

He replied with a little voice: “Ha huck!” (Meaning yes and that’s right.)

I was very respectful to him, fanned the fire, turned over the meats and asked him everything first before doing anything. He was such a capable child and I could see his face was flushed with pleasure, it must have very rare to have someone make him feel so important.

There was a group of people sat nearby the fire but they seemed not to be in very high spirits. Ali invited us for the traditional desert dishes but those two ungrateful female guests constantly make despising noises; they didn’t want any tea instead, requiring for soft drinks also not willing sit on the floor, they had asked for chairs.

Ali was shouting loudly to the little child to do all these jobs. The child had to look after the fire while he quickly ran out to buy the soft drinks, when it was done he carried the chairs and put them down for the guests, then he hurried back up to barbecue and the meats, his face was seized with panic.

“Ali, you don’t do anything to help neither do those women, you called the most busy little child to do all the jobs; it is not fair!” I spoke loud to Ali.

After Ali had eaten a piece of meat, he used the barbecue fork pointing to the child and replied: “He is lucky today, what he has to do is normally is more than this.”

“Who is he? Why he has to do so many things?”

Jose immediately changed subject.

When Jose and Ali finished their chatting at the fireplace; I repeated my question insisting.

“Who is he? Ali, tell me!”

“He is not a member of the family.” Ali said with a little embarrassment.

“He is not a member of family, why is he here? Is he a child of your neighbour?”

“He is not.”

The room had gone silent and nobody made any sound; at the time I had only recently arrived in the desert, so naturally I wouldn’t understand what they felt embarrassed about and even Jose didn’t say anything. 

“Who is he actually?” I got impatient too and wondered how came it was so clumsy.

“Echo, you come here.” Jose was calling me and waving his hand, I left the skewers and went to him.

“He is a slave.” Jose said quietly and was afraid that child might hear us. I covered my mouth and staring hard at Ali, I quietly looked at that child who put his head down; I couldn’t say anything again.

“Where do the slaves come from?” I asked Ali with a cold face.

“They are passed on from generation to generation, when they are born they become slaves.”

“Was the face of the first born of a black person already written down — I am a slave?” I looked at the light brown face of Ali and chased him with questions without let it go easily.

“Of course not, they were captured. In desert, when seeing a place where the black people are living, we catch them, beat them up unconscious and tie them up for a whole month, after that they will not escape. If we catch a whole family even better, they eventually wouldn’t escape any more and just like that, from blood passed on blood they become property; now today you can buy and sell them in business.”

Ali saw my face of indignation, he rushed to say: “We treat the slaves well, a child like him, can go back home to stay with his parents in their tent at nights; he is living outside the town, a kid like that going home everyday is a happiness life for him.”

“How many slaves does this family have?”

“Over two hundred, all have been sent to do the road work for construction for the Spanish government; when the first day of the months come, the master goes to collect their wages and become rich.”

“What do the slaves eat?”

“The Spanish contract construction company would provide food for them.”

“So, you use slaves to earn money for you but not take care of them.” My eyes stared sideways at Ali.

“Hey! Let’s get a few of them for us.” One female guest lightly said to her husband.

“Shut your fxxking mouth up!” I heard her husband scolded her.

When it was the time to say farewell to this rich family, I took off the ethnic dress and returned it back to his pretty wife. The rich host came to say goodbye, I thanked him but did not shake hands with him. I would never visit these sorts of people again.

After the group of us left and had walked down the street for about a block, I spied the little black slave chasing after us and he had hidden at the corner staring at me. His pair of the big clear bright eyes were just as tender as a little deer.

I left the crowd and ran to him softly, took out two hundred notes from my purse, pulled his hand toward me and put the money inside his palm, then said to him: ‘Thank you!’ I turned around and left after that.

I was ashamed of myself. What could money substitute for? Should I have expressed myself to this child using money as a form of enunciation? I could not think of the other ways but what I did was just a lower form to show a gesture of goodwill.

Net day, I went to the post office to get my mail and thought of the business of the slavery; I went up to the court and dropped by to the old Mr secretary.

“Ha, Echo, long time no see, you actually do remember me.”

“Mr secretary, you people actually allow slavery in the Spanish colony, it is so disregardful.”

Mr secretary heard that and sighed, he replied: “Don’t say that, every time the Sahara people have fight with the Spanish, we only lock the Spanish up; you know to deal with this mob, we only appease, nothing more can be done, we are scared to dead and would rather not dare to stick our noses on their business.”

“You people are the accomplices in crime, you do not just ignore it but make a fortune from the slaves who build the roads, it is a joke!”

“Ugh, What sort of business is this to do with you? Those maters are for the heads of the tribe and the Congress of Madrid, all of them are the powerful representatives of the Sahara; people like us, what else can we say?”

“A big Catholic country, not allows divorce but tolerates slavery, it’s the most absurd  news in the world. Congratulations! As you know my second home country, oh dear….”

“Echo, don’t bother! It’s so hot ……”

“Alright! I am going! Good day, bye!” I stepped out of the court.

That night in the evening, someone knocked on my door; it was in such a very polite manner, they just lightly knocked three times and not any more. I was puzzled, who would be so civilised like that and come to visit me!

The door opened, an unknown middle aged black man stood in front of my doorstep.

His appearance was so shabby and poor, he almost looked just like some rags hanging on a body, he wasn’t even wearing a cloth wrap on his head; his head was full of silver hair hovering in the wind.

When he saw me, he immediately humbly looked down, both hands crossed in front of the chest as if he was worshipping me. There was a huge contrast with his manner when compared with the Sahara people.

“You are…?” I was waiting for his speak.

He couldn’t speak a word, his mouth only came out with some hoarse voice; he made a hand sign with a shape of a child and pointing to himself.

I didn’t understand his meaning, just gently asked him: “What is it? I don’t understand, what is it?”

He knew I couldn’t understand and rushed up to pull out two hundred notes, pointing out the direction of a house and made a gesture of a child.

Oh! I got it. He was actually was the father of the child and came to see me.

He insisted on returning the money to me and I surely did not want to take it back, I made a sign with my hand showing it was for the child because he did a good job of barbecuing the meat for me to eat.

He had the intelligence to known my meaning straight away, this slave obviously wasn’t born dumb because he could make some sound; he was just deaf so that he couldn’t speak.

He looked at the money as if it was a big number for him, he thought it over for a moment then tried to return it to me again; we pushed and pulled for a while, at the end he gave in, smiled to me with many thanks gave me a bow with his both hands cupped together as if worshipping me, then he eventually left.

This was the first time I met a dumb slave.

It was less than a week afterwards and I got up early in the morning as usual, I was seeing Jose going off to work under the sky full of stars, it was about a quarter past five in the morning.

That day when I opened my door and I actually found a green lettuce had been left in front of our door; the green had even been sprinkled with some fresh water.

I carefully picked up the lettuce and waited until Jose had gone far away before I closed the door. I didn’t want to eat it; I found a big water jar and put the lettuce in the jar at the sitting room as if it were a flower arrangement. 

I knew who sent the gift.

We had lent countless things to our neighbours everyday in this area but the only one who repaid me was actually was an extremely poor slave and his body not even belonged to himself.

He touched the bottom my heart even more than the story of ‘A widow’s mite’ from the Bible. I was very keen on to hear from the dumb slave again but he didn’t show up again after that.

About two months passed and my neighbour from the back of my house wanted to build an extension on their rooftop; their hollow bricks piled up at my front door waiting to be transported to the rooftop.

Our front door had become very messy, the white wall was also sideswiped with muck from the bricks. When Jose arrived back home from work I didn’t dare to mention it to avoid that he might blow his temper and upset the harmony of the neighbourhood. I could only wait until they started their work soon and hoped that would give us some peace again afterwards.

We had been waiting for a long while but still there were no sounds of starting the work; I went up to the rooftop to dry my laundry and looking down at the courtyard of my neighbour and asked them why they hadn’t started it yet.

“It will start soon, we are going to rent a slave; in few days more when the price is agreed, he will come. His master has asked for an expensive price for this slave because he is the best bricklayer in the desert.”

After a few days passed the first class bricklayer came. I went up to the rooftop to see what was happening and it turned out that the first class bricklayer was the dumb slave. He had just started mixing the cement.

I was very surprised and ran up to him, he saw my shadow and looked up, when he saw it was me, he gave me a genuine smile just like a flower blooming on his face.

This time, he was about to give me a bow; I rushed up to offer my hand and had a handshake with him, I also made a sign to thank him for the lettuce. When he knew I had figured out it was himself who sent the gift, his face turned red and gave a hand sign asking me: “Was it taste good?”

I nodded my head hard and told him Jose and myself finished it in no time. He happily smiled again and made some sign language: “You are the type of people would have bleeding gums if you don’t eat enough greens.”

I was stunned, how come a slave from the desert would know such general knowledge. 

The dumb slave made a very simple hand gesture, this kind of international sign language was very convenient to use. He was good at expressing himself and it was easy to understand what he meant once you saw it.

A wall half-man high was built within a few days after the dumb slave started working.

It was the fiery August, when the afternoon came, the wave of heat was just like lava flowing straight out from the poisonous sun. I shut my windows tight in my house and pasted the gap in between the windows in order to not let the heat go inside the rooms. I also brushed the mattress with water, wrapped up a towel with ice and put that on my head but it still the heat drove me mad under the nearly fifty five degrees Celsius temperature.

Every time when the sizzling heat came to torture me, I eventually had to lie myself down on the mat and wait minute by minute for the evening to come.

It was the only when the evening time came and the cool breeze was blowing, that I could sit outside my door for a moment and that was actually the moment that was the biggest happiness for me that I longed for.

A few days had passed I eventually thought of the dumb slave working on the rooftop, I had literally forgotten about him. What was the dumb slave doing under this extremely hot afternoon sun?

I immediately went up to the rooftop while the sun was on my head, the heat waves were rushing over by the second when the door was opened on the rooftop and that immediately made my headache come on; I quickly stepped up looking for the dumb slave, there was not even any shade that you can hide under on the empty rooftop.

I found the dumb slave was lying against the edge of the wall, his body only covered a piece of a shabby broken grass mat, he had got himself down on his knees as liked as an old dog without any struggling.

I quickly ran up to call him and push him; the sun burned my skin like touching molten iron in just a few seconds; I actually felt my head was spinning and could not hold on anymore.

I pulled away the broken grass mat from him and kept pushing him with my hand. His poor face slowly looking up at me as if in tear.

I pointed to my home and said to him: “Go down, quick, we are going down.” 

He was stood up weakly with a pale face full of hesitation, he didn’t know what to do.

I couldn’t stand the heat and had to push him hard; he was embarrassed and bending down his body went through the ceiling door Jose had built, slowly he came down on the steps. I closed the door from the rooftop and quickly came down too.

The dumb slave stood in my kitchen, his hand was holding a dry bread roll and it was so dry, it actually looked like a stone. I recognised that was some old bread which was normally for feeding the goats and it came from the military camp. Now I realised this neighbour who had rented the dumb slave as a worker had given him this awful thing to sustain his life.

The dumb slave stood there nervously and had not dared to move. The ceiling was still very hot, I asked him enter to the sitting room but he refused it deathly, pointing out the colour of his skin; he was not willing to set his foot in it.

I made a hand sign again: “You, me; are the same, please go inside.” He looked scared to death because he properly had never had anyone treat him like a human before.

In the end, I couldn’t force him again when I saw how this poor soul was so overcautious and stiff; I took out a bottle of orange juice from the fridge as well as some fresh soft bread and a piece of cheese, also a boiled egg that Jose hadn’t had time to eat in the morning; I put all of this food next to him and invited him to have them. I closed the door from the sitting room and I left, it was to avoid the dumb slave being so sensitive that couldn’t eat his food comfortably. 

It was half past three in the afternoon, the heat was still like lava pouring down from the sky; inside the room was boiling hot, not to be mention how hot the outside was. 

I worried that the master of the dumb slave might scold him, so I came out again and called him to return to work. He was sitting in the corridor like a stone statue; he had drunk a little bit of the orange juice and had eaten his own dry bread but didn’t touch the rest. I folded my arms and looking at him quietly when he didn’t eat the other food.

The dumb slave understood, he immediately stood up and he used his hand to make a communication: “Don’t be mad, I didn’t eat them because I want to take them back to feed my woman and children.” He made a sign of three children indicated two boys and one girl.

I eventually understood what he meant, I quickly found a bag, put the remaining food in the bag. I also cut a big piece of cheese, half a watermelon and put two bottles of cola in the bag. I hadn’t had much myself, otherwise I would had given him more than that.

When he saw me put all these things into the bag, his head was down and his face showed a complicated mixed almost shameful expression which I just bear to see.

I put the bag inside my half empty fridge and pointed at the sun and said: “When the sun goes down, you come back for it, store it here first,” He desperately nodded his head while he bowed to me, his face was showing bliss almost like crying; he quickly stepped out and went back up to the rooftop to work. 

I was thinking, the dumb slave must love his children very much indeed, he surely had a happy home himself otherwise he wouldn’t be overjoyed with just that small amount of food. After a moment of hesitation, I opened a box of toffee that was Jose’s most favourite sweet and I grabbed a big handful and put them into the bag also for the dumb slave.

The fact was we didn’t have much food ourselves and there was a limit to what we could give him.

On Sunday, the dumb slave was still working and Jose went up to the rooftop to see him. It was the first time the dumb slave had met Jose, he dropped down his tools and rushed to step over the bricks making a ‘Ah Ah’ sound from his mouth, just before he approached Jose from few steps away, he reached out his hand and wanted to shake hands with Jose; I felt happy for him to shake hands with Jose without a bow first; his lower self-esteem was becoming less and less when he was in front of us, in his heart he had built up a comparatively good relationship with people which was progressing better and greater.

I smiled away as I was coming down from the rooftop as I saw shadow of a hand from the sign language Jose was using slanted on the ceiling. 

When the afternoon came, Jose came down and the dumb salve followed behind him with joy. Jose’s head was fully covered with dust; he surely had been working on some plasterwork together with the dumb slave.

“Echo, I want invite dumb for supper!”

“Jose, don’t called him dumb!”

“He couldn’t hear.”

“His eyes could.”

I was holding a spatula, exaggerating the shape of my mouth speaking to the dumb slave slowly in Arabic Hassania language: “Sa-ha-ba.”(friend)

I pointed to Jose and said again: “Sa-ha-ba.”

I also pointed myself: “Sa-ha-po-te.” (girl friend) I made a circle and put three people inside it, he completely understood, his undefended smile touched me again.

He was very excited but also felt a little bit of nervousness, Jose pushed him and he stepped into the sitting room while pointing out his dirty bare feet; I shook hands with him and said it wasn’t a matter at all then I ignored him and left the two men chatting.

After a while, Jose came to the kitchen and told me: “The dumb slave knows Astrology.”

“How did you know?”

“He draws; he saw the stars from the book we have and his drawing located the stars in almost the same position as from our book.”

After awhile, I went into the sitting room to set the knives and forks and saw Jose and the dumb slave were on the floor looking at the map of the world.

The dumb slave pointed out where the Sahara was on the map straight away without a second thought; I was stunned and he pointed where Spain was also pointed Jose too. I asked him: “How about me?”

He looked at me and I pointed Spain on the map with a tease. He made a face of a good laugh, shaking his head and started to find Asia on the map. This time, he couldn’t find it on the map as if handed in a blank paper for an exam.

I was pointing on his temple and made a face of—fool!

He was laughing with joy and almost tripped over. The dumb slave certainly was a clever man.

I had made stir fry beef with green peppers for the supper but the dumb slave could not eat it; I thought, in his whole life if he probably had not even tasted the meat of goat and camel a few times; he certainly couldn’t stand the taste of beef. I asked him to have some boiled rice and sprinkled some salt on it but he wouldn’t touch it; he was back to the old form of his natural reserve.

I asked him to use his hand to eat the rice and he lowered his head while eating the rice. I decided not to invite him for supper together again to avoid more suffering for him.

The news of the dumb slave was spreading out so speedily, the kids next door saw the mute slave had supper with us; they immediately told the grown-ups and everyone around here knew about it now. I was aware that the Saharan local people quickly got hostile towards the dumb slave and us.

“Echo, ignore him; he is a ‘Halofa’! Dirty people!” (Halofa meaning pig) 

One of the most annoying things was the little girl of our first neighbour came to warn me with jealousy.

“He is actually a pig, also his wife is crazy; he is the pig we rented to work to us!” She deliberately spat on the dumb slave after what she had said and stared at me challengingly.

“It’s none of your business, if you call him ‘Halofa’ again, Jose will catch you and hang you on the rooftop.”

Jose was going to catch this little bugger, she screamed out loud and escaped away from the rooftop, hiding in her own home.

I felt so sad and the dumb slave silently picked up the tools. When we looked up, I found my neighbours staring at Jose and me gloomily. We didn’t say a word just came down from the rooftop.

One evening, I went up to collect my dry laundry; I waved my hand to the dumb slave, he was just building the top of the house and he waved back to me. By coincidence Jose was there too as he had just returned from work and went straight up to the rooftop too.

The dumb slave left the tools and came over to us.

That day had no wind and no sand too, a string of birds stopped on the wire for a while; I pointed out the birds and asked the dumb slave to look, also made a gesture of flying away and pointed him with a hand sign: “You—no freedom, working hard to death but wouldn’t get a penny.”

“Echo, enough! Why upset him?” Jose scolded me.

“I actually inspire him, he has the quality of his own ability; if he had freedom, he can raise his family without a problem.”

The dumb slave was staring at the sky for a while, he took a long deep breath and made a comparison of his own skin of colour. After a moment had passed, he smiled again, he pointed his heart to us and then pointed the birds too, gesturing a flying out with both his hands.

I knew what he wanted to say: “Although my body is not free my heart is.”

He surprised us greatly with such wisdom he spoke.

That evening, he insisted on inviting us to his home. I quickly went down and looked for some food, brought a bottle of milk powder and some white sugar then we followed him home.

His home was at the outside edge of the sand valley, I saw a very poor and shabby tent pitched there all alone, it looked so sad under the sunset.

When we were walked closer from the tent, two children with no clothes on popped out straight away, they ran up to the dumb slave while laughing and screaming out, immediately the dumb slave embraced them in his arms with a big smile.

A woman also came out from the tent, she was poor and not even wearing a wrapping cloth on her body, she only wore a broken cloth that had showed her feet outside her dress.

The dumb slave invited us inside, we bent down and went into the tent; we eventually found that inside the tent there were only a few sack bags covering on the floor and they couldn’t even cover up the whole tent, half of the tent was exposed to the ground and sand; outside the tent had an old petrol can half filled up with water. 

The wife of the dumb slave was very shy, she just faced away from us inside at the tent and not dared look at us. The dumb slave rushed up to made a fire and went out to get some water, he used a very old teapot to boil the water but there weren’t any cups for us to drink from. He felt so embarrassed and had sweat all over his head.

Jose smiled and asked him not to be rushed; when the water cooled down a little bit, we drank the water directly from the teapot in turn, he eventually looked relieved with a great smile; we were very moved, it was the best he could do for his guests. 

The older child was still working at the great master’s house and hadn’t come back yet, the other two little ones were embracing themselves inside their father’s arms, sucking their thumbs and looking at us. We quickly took out the food for them, the dumb slave immediately passed the bread to his wife who was sitting at the back behind us.

When it was the time to go after we had sat down with them for a while; the dumb slave picked up his children and stood outside the tent waving to us. Jose held my hand tight and at that moment we felt close to each other. We both looked back and glanced at the poor family which didn’t even have a decent place to stand.

“At least, the dumb slave has a happy home, he isn’t a very poor person after all!” I said to Jose.

Home, for every single person was a source of joy and happiness! Even living in a hard and bitter life, it still was warm and sweet; the dumb slave had a home, we didn’t feel he was too poor.

After that, we bought some cheap clothing for his children and wife, when the dumb slave got off from work, we quietly gave it to him and rushed him home, in case his master gave him a hard time. 

When the Muslim festival came, we gave him a big sac of charcoal and bought him a few kilograms of meat. I felt that I always gave those things to him with shame and so often I went to his home in the daytime when he wasn’t there. After I left the goods for his wife I escaped straight away. The wife of the dumb slave was a gentle but low intelligence woman who couldn’t think and behave normally. She always smiled at me and always wore the same blue cloth wrapping that I bought for her.

The dumb slave was a decent person, he didn’t has anything to repay us but he quietly repaired our ceiling that had been broken by the goats; he stole water at night for washing our car and when the strong wind came, he rushed out to collect the drying laundry for me and put them in an already cleaned wash bag before pulled out the panel from the ceiling and lowering them down for me.

Jose and I always wanted to find a way to free the dumb slave but completely failed in any way, everyone said the same, the matter was impossible to do.

We didn’t even know that if we had finally fought for his freedom, how could we afford his cost and what if we left the desert, what would happen to him?

The fact was, we hadn’t completely figured it out; the situation might end up worse than what it was for him now, so that we couldn’t realistically find a way to set him free.

One day, it started rain heavily in the desert, the raindrops were knocking on the ceiling loudly; I woke up and nudged Jose, he had already woken up too.

“Listen! It’s raining, it is raining heavily in the desert.” I was scared to dead.

Jose jumped up, opened the door and rushed out in the rain; the neighbours woke up too and everybody ran out to look at the rain while shouting out from their mouths: “Water from the gods! Water from the gods!”

It had not been raining for so long here that I got scared of this kind of strange weather in the desert and felt ice in my heart. I didn’t dare to go out, instead I hid myself inside my home.

Everyone took their buckets to catch the rain and said this was the water given from god and if drunk it would cure illness.

The great desert became a land of slushy mud caused by the non-stop torrential rain. The roof of our house was leaking and turned our home into an unrecognisable mess. The desert in the rain became a terrifying and horror inducing occurrence for me.

The rain was falling for days and nights, even the Spanish newspapers published the news about the heavy rain in the desert here.

The work of the dumb slave was finished after the second week of the rain.

One day, I was reading at home and the evening came; Jose was working an extra shift, he would come home the next morning. 

Suddenly I heard there were children making a strangely noise from outside the door and the adults were talking too.

My neighbour Guccka knocked on my door very hard and loudly, when I opened the door, she spoke to me in agitation: “Come quickly, the dumb slave has been sold, he is about to go.”

My ears were ringing, I held tight to Guccka and asked: “Why is he sold? Why all of a sudden has he been sold? Where is he going?”

Guccka said: “After the rain came, there are so much vegetation growing in Mauritania, that someone came to buy the slave to look after their goats and also delivery the baby camels.”

“Where is he now?”

“He is at the front door of the family who build houses, his master also has come too while counting the money inside the house.”

I rushed myself running to the house, my face charged with rage; I desperately ran to the front door of our neighbour’s house. I saw a jeep and sitting inside next to the driving seat was the dumb slave.

I barged to the side of the car, he looked like a statue made from mud and I saw his eyes were staring in front of him looking into the far distance, his face didn’t show any expression. I looked at his hands, they were tied up with rope and with his ankles too, all tied up with a lose length of rope.

I covered my mouth and looked at him, he wouldn’t look back to me; I looked around, it was just children surrounding here. I rushed into the neighbour’s home and saw the respectable master leisurely drinking tea with a group of well dressed people; from that moment I knew, there was no hope to save him as the deal had already been closed.

I quickly went outside again, looked at the dumb slave, his eyes were completely dry but his lips were trembling. I quickly ran back home and took all the crash I had whilst looking around in the house, I saw my big colourful desert blanket that I had spread out on my bed; I pulled it out without a single thought, holding tight this bedding blanket and ran over to the jeep where the dumb slave was quietly sitting. 

“Sahaba, this money is for you, the blanket is also for you.” I stuffed all these things onto his chest shouting loudly.

At that moment, the dumb slave eventually saw the blanket and me; he suddenly held the blanket tight and a sound of crying spilt from his mouth. He jumped out from the car while holding the beautiful bedding blanket on his chest, desperately running to the direction where his home was; he could only skip and hop because of the loosely tied rope tied around his feet, I was looking at him and he was running with an incredible speed towards to his home.

The kids around seeing him run away, immediately shouted together: “Escape! Escaping!”

The adults from inside the house came out straight away, the younger ones also grabbed a large wooden board on their way out and started chasing after him too.

“Don’t beat him! Don’t….!”

I almost fainted with nervousness running after them whilst shouting out. Everyone was chasing the dumb slave, I was desperately following them but totally forgot I had a car parked just outside my front door.

I ran and had almost reached the tent where the dumb slave lived, everyone saw the colourful blanket spreading out and billowy in the wind in the far distance behind the dumb slave.

He stumbled into the arms of his wife and his children, the rope broke away from his hands, he was crying out with a hoarsely voice that had burst out from his throat.

He put the blanket around his wife and the children with all his strength he had left, pulled on the hand of his wife desperately asking her to feel how soft and how good quality the blanket was; he also stuffed the money that I gave him into his wife’s hands.

The only sound I registered around the dumb slave and the red blanket was the beating of my heart and the wind.

Some of the young men came up and caught the dumb slave straight away, the jeep also arrived. The dumb slave went into the car dejected, his hand tightly pushing against the glass window and the expression on his face showed neither sadness nor joy.

The wind blew over his grey hair, he was staring far away again and there was not a single drop of a tear from his dry eyes, only his lips were still uncontrollably trembling.

The car was about to leave and the crowd was making way for the vehicle. The shadow of the dumb slave started fading and disappearing slowly behind the sunset; his family didn’t cry but embraced together, burying themselves inside the big red blanket as if three stones forming by the sand and wind.

My tears was running down my face, streaming like river and I walked back to my home slowly.

I closed the door and lay by myself on the bed loosing all track of time, not knowing, when even the rooster was already crowing outside my door.