Taking Risk

Fiona turned her attention back to her bag, which still had space. What else should she take ? Lifting a framed snapshot, she examined her mother as a young woman. The mother Fi had known wouldn't want to go to Africa. In fact, she wouldn't want Fi to go. Fi put the picture facedown and scanned the room, her attention drawn to a worn1 volume of Irish poetry by her bedside. She tucked it in. « How about the netting ? » Chris called from the living room where he sat with Devi. « Already in, » Fi answered.

« And repellent ? » asked Devi. « Yes, yes. » Fi waved her hand as though shooing away a gnat2.

Early on in her research about Kenya, she'd discovered that the country's annual death toll3 from malaria was in the tens of thousands. She had pills ; she had repellents ; logically, she knew she'd be fine. Still, a figure that high jolted4 her. Mbu – mosquito – had been the first Swahili word she'd learned. Sometimes the insects even dive-bombed5 into her nightmares. Eventually, mosquitoes became a metaphor for everything she feared about this trip : all the stories she'd read about a violent and chaotic continent, plus the jitters that come with the unknown. And what wasn't unknown ? All she knew for sure, in fact, was why she was going. Fi's mom had never been a big talker, but she'd been a hero, raising four kids alone. Now it was Fi's turn to do something worthwhile.« Fi. » Chris, at the door of the bedroom, waved in the air the paper on which he'd written a list of all the items he thought she should bring and might forget. Money belt. Hat. Granola bars. « Have you been using this ? » he asked half-mockingly in the tone of a teacher .

« I hate lists », Fi said. Fi moved to the living room and plopped onto the floor across from Devi. Chris poured Fi a glass of cabernet and sat in the chair nearest her. « You know, there's lots of illiteracy in this country , » Devi said after a moment. « That's why I've been volunteering after work, » Fi said. « But there, it's different. They've never been exposed to libraries. Some have never held a book in their hands. »

« Not to mention that it's more dangerous, which somehow makes it appealing to Fi, » Chris said to Devi, shaking his head. « Nai-robbery . » Though he spoke lightly, his words echoed those of Fi's brother and two sisters -especially her brother. She was ready with a retort. « I'll mainly be in Garissa, not Nairobi. » she said. « It's no more dangerous there than New York City. Anyway, I want to take some risks – different risks. Break out of my rut6. Do something meaningful. » Then she made her tone playful. « The idealistic Irish. What can you do ? » « Sometimes idealism imposes, » Chris said. « What if all they want is food and medicine ? »

« You know what I think. Books are their future. A link to the modern world.

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