Read Online The African Equation by Yasmina Khadra - Free Book Online Page B

soaked for days in a dye he’d made himself to turn them black. He loved wearing the colours of the German national team, a white shirt and black shorts. The shirt was okay, but for the black shorts, my father had got the formula and quantities wrong when he made the dye. After the match, he started getting spots on his buttocks and around his genitals. And the next day, he was really sick and walked around as if he’d shit in his pants.’
    I found it hard to comprehend the fact that you could tell amusing, heart-warming stories in the same part of the world where a man could be thrown in the sea like a cigarette end being flicked away.
    ‘And who are you a fan of?’ I said.
    He shrugged, losing interest. ‘There’s Messi, Ronaldo and lots of others, except that Joma says an idol doesn’t have to be a white man. So I went for Drogba, Eto’o and Zidane.’
    ‘Zidane’s white.’
    ‘Only white-skinned. He’s African at heart.’
    ‘Do you play football?’
    ‘I’m rubbish at it.’ He looked at his toes sticking out of his worn-out espadrilles and wiggled them. An unexpected sadness came over his face. ‘I’ve never been good at anything,’ he sighed.
    ‘You should have stayed at home.’
    ‘There wasn’t anything at home. I was like an old boat in a disused harbour, taking in water while waiting for a buyer. Except that nobody was buying. Nobody where I lived had any money. They couldn’t even afford a rope to hang themselves with. I was fed up with taking in water. After a while, I told myself, if I was going to sink, I might as well sink at sea. At least, nobody would see. So I raised anchor and set sail.’
    ‘You chose the wrong sea.’
    ‘Maybe the sea doesn’t exist, maybe it’s just a mirage. In any case, I don’t see the difference. Here or somewhere else, it’s all the same.’
    ‘No, it isn’t.’
    ‘For me it is.’
    ‘I’m sure you’re a good person. Your place isn’t among these people. What they’re doing is a serious crime, and they don’t realise. They kidnapped us and kidnapping is against the law. They’ll be severely punished.’
    ‘They don’t give a damn about the law. They don’t even know what it is. All they know is how to kill and loot, and they seem to enjoy that.’
    ‘Don’t you agree with what they’re doing?’
    ‘I don’t have an opinion. Nobody asks me anyway.’
    ‘So why join them?’
    ‘It’s just the way it is.’
    ‘There’s such a thing as choice.’
    ‘I don’t have a choice.’
    ‘Yes, you do … Nobody’s forcing you to go along with this bunch of … of reckless idiots … What’s your name?’
    My question threw him. He thought it over, frowning and pulling at the tip of his nose, which was thin and straight, then lifted his chin and said bitterly, ‘What’s a name? A trademark, that’s all. My family’s name doesn’t even mean anything. I’ve learnt to get along without it. I sometimes forget it … Here, they call me, “Hey, you there!”’ He took off his glasses and wiped his face on his vest. ‘That doesn’t make me much of a person either … But I’m patient. One day, they’ll give me a combat name. There’s no reason why not. I’m a warrior and I risk my life like the others … Everyone has a nickname – why not me?’ He started biting his nails again. ‘I’d get a kick out of having a nickname,’ he added in a feverish breath. ‘That would make me someone … A nickname that sounds good, that you can’t easily forget … Blackmoon, for example … I’d like that, Blackmoon. Plus, it sounds like me.’
    ‘Well, Blackmoon, you’re not someone who’s good for nothing.’
    ‘You don’t know me.’
    ‘You don’t need to spend lots of time with people to know them. I’m sure you’re a reasonable person.’
    ‘It’s true, I’m not wicked. The bad things I’ve done were to defend myself. It isn’t that I have regrets or that I’m trying to clear myself. I’d have liked things to happen