Every Serengeti Sunrise. Rula SinaraЧитать онлайн книгу.
college soon and said he wanted to study medicine like Hope. Maddie felt a bit sorry for Philip, Hope and Ben’s only child together, whom Maddie adored. He was only fourteen, and she could tell from his emails that he was feeling the pressure of keeping up with everyone else. As for Maddie, on one level she knew her accomplishments were great. She’d worked hard because she always felt the need to prove herself. Success meant getting out from under her dad’s umbrella. Sometimes his protectiveness and worry came off as critical no matter what she did. And now, he’d get to see firsthand how she was barely getting by as a lawyer, let alone excelling. She’d handled shorter holidays in the past with skillful maneuvering around certain topics of conversation. And those trips had been about kicking back. But a monthlong work trip was enough for everyone to catch on to the fact that she was basically a nobody. And then, heaven forbid, the career advice would start pouring in.
She shifted in her chair and put her hands in her lap, noticing belatedly that she’d left sweaty handprints on her matte laptop cover. Mr. Levy had probably noticed it, too. Could her day get any worse? She wiped her palms against the scratchy tweed of her skirt. The bottom line was that she’d been given her orders. Nine in the morning and she was already spent. She felt like a teenager all over again, getting told what she needed to do with her life. What she needed right now were her sweatpants, slippers and some ice cream.
“I understand, Mr. Levy. I’ll do my best.”
“I know you will. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that to win, you need to have the right person on the case. I’m not putting you on this one just because of your dual citizenship. I want you on this because you finished your undergraduate studies in three years, graduated law school at the top of your class and do everything meticulously—down to the way I’ve seen you water the ficus tree by the break room that everyone else forgets about—and you’re fluent in four languages to boot.”
“Three, sir. I only know a few words in Swahili. I wouldn’t call myself fluent.” She was fluent enough in French and Spanish, though not as comfortable with them as English.
“Well, that’s a few words more than I know. More importantly, you have an understanding of the people and culture. Their needs. The cultural dynamic. We need someone to actually get out in the field. And, yes, you have family who can take you around to gather information, but if you need help with that, let us know. Visit some of the Masai villagers who are being essentially pushed off their land. Find out their views and concerns regarding potential new punishments imposed on them. Get to the heart of it all, but I don’t want emotion—I want solid facts that’ll stand up in court. You have a tendency to think outside the box. I like that about you. Let me put this bluntly—if we win this case, you’ll be number one on our list the next time a promotion opens up.”
A jolt akin to the one she got from the first sip of a hot, salted caramel mocha latte coursed through her. He’d actually taken note of her work and effort? Top of their list? Her cheeks warmed. She’d had no idea he had that level of confidence in her. Everything in her seemed to shift. This was it. This was her big break. She pushed back a lock of hair that had liberated itself from her bun.
“Thank you. Mr. Levy, that—that means a lot to me. I won’t let you down.”
“I hope not.” He stood to leave. She followed suit, but gave her right hand another subtle wipe on her skirt, just in case he extended his. He didn’t. “Helen should be emailing you some files for review on the case. Easier for travel. Other than that, there’s only one thing left for you to do. Go home and pack.”
“Yes, sir.”
She gathered her things and walked out of the conference room. She could do this. The assignment, she could handle. If she felt too smothered at her parents’ house, she’d go spend time at Busara. After all, she’d be out there anyway to visit tribal villages. And seeing Pippa again would be incredible. No doubt she’d see Haki, too. The last time she’d seen him he’d gotten so much taller and...older. He’d always been mature for his age, but there had been something different about him. She’d also noticed how his relationship with Pippa had changed, even before Pippa had confided that she and Haki had become more than friends. They were an item. A couple. It was a beautiful thing, it really was, but something about it unsettled her. Probably just fear of being a third wheel.
Maddie took a deep breath and let it out as she stepped onto the sidewalk outside the building. Yes. She could stay with Pippa if she needed a break from Nairobi and her father. Pippa, though she was almost five years younger than Maddie, had always been the spunkier one when they were kids. She never let anyone pick on Maddie back then. She still always had her back.
Maddie would always have hers, too.
IF THERE WAS ever a prime example of man versus nature, the disaster Haki was witnessing was an arrow in the bull’s-eye. Good thing there was no bull in sight—this time. Haki trekked through trampled earth and mutilated scraps of what had been rows of sorghum. Understanding Swahili and a few of the tribal dialects was an asset to his work, but all he could do right now was nod his head and let the Masai farmer continue to vent. He’d slip in peace talks at the right time. He was just relieved that the elephant bull hadn’t been caught “red-handed.”
He assumed it was a bull because one such bull had been reported missing that morning from a conservation area dedicated to transitioning teenage elephants into the wild. It was the same group that took on the orphans rescued at Busara once they were too old to stay there. KWS had been trying to locate that missing bull all day. Haki was hoping the elephant would be found alive.
Just a few weeks ago, another farm had suffered a raid by a hungry elephant in search of food. The farmer had killed it in retaliation. Had KWS not found the body in time, the farmer might have even tried selling the tusks to make up for income lost from crop destruction. And that would have fed into the illegal ivory market, which would in turn have encouraged more poaching, and the vicious cycle would go on. Late-summer droughts made everyone and everything, including vegetation and wildlife, desperate. And desperation had a way of pushing a person’s moral boundaries.
Crops could be replanted. Fences could be mended. But driving a species to extinction—eradicating it because of either anger or greed—was an irreversible, unconscionable act.
Haki understood the plight of farmers in the region. He understood that they had children to feed. But killing was not the answer. If the tiny oxpecker bird could ride the back of a massive rhino in peace—trading the benefit of a bodyguard and free meal for keeping the beast’s hide free of insects—then surely humans could figure out a way to live symbiotically with other species.
A group of women swathed in a geometrical-patterned fabric of oranges and reds, with equally colorful beads adorning their necks, stood watching expectantly. One held tight to a toddler. That had to be the farmer’s young child. The one he said had been playing near their garden when the elephant came stomping through.
Haki wiped the sweat off his forehead with one khaki sleeve, then turned to two of his crew near their medical unit. They’d come out to assist, in case an injured animal was found, after a bush pilot spotted the damaged field and reported possible trouble in the area. Haki’s team had been nearby and the KWS vet assigned to this area was on another emergency call. Luckily, the only casualties here were the crops—not that that didn’t have an impact on the farmer.
“Let’s help him repair his fence before we leave,” Haki said. The fence wouldn’t hold up if the elephant returned for another meal. Even the electric fences used to block off large areas of land reserved for farming weren’t always enough to keep elephants from roaming in from the forests and reserves. But it was all he could do to temper the situation for now.
“We’ve been called out. Another aerial tip. A young elephant stuck in a mud pit. I have the coordinates. KWS still has their area vet unit working with a bull they had to dart. Infected hip wound. No time to build fences,” his medical unit driver called out.
Mud