[Slokais]

Mbaye spent the first week with her new family confused. She imagined her biological family would be her perfect match, her mother and father complimenting her perfectly. Yet both her Mother and Father were extremely devoted to their faith. Through, conversations with the many people coming through, they were Priets of the Diawara Faith. From Mbaye’s observations, the Diawara combined the traditional animism of Kolda with a modern view of religion and Christianity.

Mbaye hadn’t come in with a plan, she had only booked a return flight in two weeks and everything was up to her to figure out in between. Mbaye had tried to approach her mother at various points but she had been quietly ignored, her father had not told her mother, who she was. When her father was in her presence, he referred to Mbaye as “nemeca ke” which she was fairly sure translated as “new member”. Mbaye spent her days mostly studying the various assortments of books that filled the home’s library. Since there was no internet, the books became her only source for translation and learning the Kango language. French had been strictly forbidden, and Mbaye hadn’t heard a lick of any since her arrival. Eventually, after a few days, Mbaye realized it would probably be best to leave. Many things seemed to be wrong with the Diawara, new young men and women would come into the compound every day, and they were then dressed in robes and taken to a community of several huts across the road. Additionally, when Mbaye walked the gardens she would be asked “Emtire ka, cane” by passersby, she would just look at them and smile, and they seemed to understand.

On her final night, Mbaye once again tried to reach her mother. Every night, Mbaye had to respectfully fold, when either one of the roaming priests stopped her from approaching her mother, or when she went to sleep in a large modern guesthouse stylized like a traditional hut. Tonight, her mother was holding a gathering with several senior priests. Although Mbaye had been raised and in her heart was Catholic, she appreciated the Diwara. They were keeping alive traditions that had been destroyed by colonialism yet also moving to a modern faith. Once, Mbaye reached the grove of plants stylized to form a tribal pattern, she paused on a curved stone bench. The days were warm, yet the night felt just perfect, light breezes blowing the smell of tropical plants around. Was this home? Mbaye had been struggling with the question for so long, was Slokais still home, or was it where she was truly born? Here in Kolda, Mbaye felt a sense of belonging and comfort she had rarely found anywhere else. At the same time, something didn’t seem right. Regardless, Mbaye would leave tomorrow, she already had plans to explore more of Kolda.

In the moment, Mbaye instinctively grabbed her phone, a habit of living somewhere with good cell service. To her surprise, she had service and more unexpectedly she had a text from an unknown number. The only message was,“I heard you were in the country, please I want to talk. It’s been so long”. The message confused Mbaye, according to records she had left Kolda when she was only 2 years old, and her parents were right there. Then just as she was starting to put her phone away, it rang with a call from an unknown number.
“Who is this” Mbaye asked angrily
“Please don’t hang up it’s Julie. Don’t you number” Julie responded
It took a few seconds for Mbaye to absorb this information, as she looked for words to respond, she saw several priests gather across the field from her. If she didn’t go over now, her mother would once again disappear.
“I know, it may have been confusing for you. But please, I heard you were in Kolda”
“No, it’s not that” Mbaye responded in Kango as she made her way across the field.
“When did you learn, Kango” Julie responded in English
“I’m with my biological family, they're part of this religious group” Mbaye whispered
“Listen to me Elizabeth, what are they called” Julie said, worry in her voice.
“Diawara” Mbaye said, just as she reached the group of priests.
“We are Diawara, the time has come,” the Priest said in Kango
“Get, the hell out of there, Elizabeth,” Julie said with panic in her voice. However, Mbaye wasn’t listening

The last thing, Julie heard in her apartment in Gueidwaye was the phone dropping to the grass, then several words in Kango, before the call was ended.