The Garden of Burning Sand

When the judge disappeared into chambers, Benson Luchembe traded a shell-shocked glance with Darious and strode out of the courtroom, his defense team in tow. Zoe grinned at Joseph, incapable of hiding her elation. There was so much she wanted to say, but she couldn’t say it until the defendant left the dock. She waited, watching Darious as he stared at the door to chambers. His look sent a chill up her spine. His eyes were full of loathing.

In time, he turned toward the rear of the courtroom, searching for something. For a moment his confidence seemed to waver, then the hatred returned. Zoe followed his gaze and saw the empty bench.

Frederick Nyambo was gone.

The judge’s opinion on the matter of DNA arrived by email on Friday morning. Sarge printed it off and read it silently, then reclined in his chair, his lips curling into a smile of vindication. He waved the decision at Zoe and Niza, who read it together.

After examining the Constitution and statutes of Zambia, Mubita found no prohibition against a court-ordered blood sample in a defilement case and waxed eloquent about the benefits DNA would accord the justice system. He wrote:

Crimes of sexual violence assault the very fabric of Zambia’s communal society, and no prosecutor or court should be deprived of a constitutionally sound tool to identify the perpetrators of such crimes. If DNA changes the face of criminal justice in our country, so be it. The time has come to bring an end to the horrific acts of defilement and rape that leave our wives, daughters, mothers, and grandmothers afraid of walking the streets alone.

Mubita ordered Darious to submit a blood sample to Dr. Chulu at UTH by Monday afternoon and directed that the defendant’s blood and the samples taken from Kuyeya on the night of the rape be submitted to the DNA lab in Johannesburg for analysis.

Zoe gave Sarge a triumphant look. “We should have it framed,” she said.

He shook his head in wonderment. “This is going to change the way we practice law. Can you imagine it? A genuine deterrent against child sexual assault.” He stood up suddenly. “Wait until Mariam hears about this.”

That afternoon, when the last of the staff left the office, Zoe tidied up her workstation and found Joseph waiting for her at the gate. She touched his arm. “Interested in a drive? I haven’t seen Kuyeya in a couple of weeks.”

He pondered this. “I was going to check on the samples at UTH.”

“It’s up to you,” she said, giving him a playful nudge.

He shrugged. “I’ll come with you.”

They drove through the city and took Great East Road toward the airport. The tarmac shimmered in the heat, and the sky was the color of mustard, clogged with wind-driven dust. When they reached the spur road, Zoe rolled up the windows to keep out the grit. The six-month absence of rain had turned the highland plain into a sandy desert.

At St. Francis, they parked beside a bougainvillea bush and left the air-conditioned comfort of the Land Rover. Much to their surprise, they found Dr. Chulu in the breezeway talking to Sister Anica and Joy Herald. The physician so dwarfed the nun and the SCA director that their exchange looked almost cartoonish.

“Zoe!” Sister Anica said. “You chose a good day to visit. The doctor is about to test Kuyeya again.”

“Has it been six weeks already?” Zoe asked, waving at Joy.

“Almost to the day,” Dr. Chulu replied, shaking her hand and Joseph’s.

Sister Anica led them through the breezeway and across the sunbaked courtyard to the garden. In the distance, Zoe saw Sister Irina kneeling on a patch of turned earth with children in a circle around her. Kuyeya had the privileged position on the nun’s left, but she seemed as much a part of the group as the other children.

“I was telling Joy and Dr. Chulu that she started running again last week,” Sister Anica said. “Her injuries appear to have healed. And she’s making good progress with Dr. Mbao. She’s started to talk about her mother.”

“What does she say?” Zoe asked.

“Her mother told her stories. That’s what she seems to remember most. Stories about animals and village people.”

“Has she said anything more about the incident?”

Sister Anica shook her head. “Dr. Mbao says she needs more time.”

They approached Sister Irina and the group of children. Zoe sat in the dirt beside Kuyeya, deciding not to worry about her office clothes. Joy took a seat on the other side.

Kuyeya looked at Zoe and made the balloon sound. “Hi, Zoe,” she said.

Zoe smiled. “How are you today?”

“Good,” the girl replied. “I like your music.” She began to hum rhythmically.

Listening, Zoe discerned a familiar tune. “‘I Walk the Line,’” she said, nudging Kuyeya’s shoulder. “That’s one of my favorites.”

“I like Johnny,” Kuyeya said.

Dr. Chulu knelt down next to Zoe. “Hi, Kuyeya. I’m Manny, your doctor.”

At the sound of his voice, Kuyeya clutched her monkey. She turned away from the doctor and began to rock back and forth, her eyes on her lap.

“Why don’t we get the clinic ready?” Sister Anica said, looking at Dr. Chulu and then at Joy and Joseph. “Zoe can bring her in a minute.”

“Good idea,” replied the doctor with obvious relief.

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