Makeda's Story

Makeda’s Story

Ruth Jackson

Makeda’s story Published in Australia by Ruth Jackson Email: jackson.ruth4077@gmail.com Text and photographs Copyright © Ruth Jackson 2019

Drawings Copyright © Matewos Shiferaw 2019 National Library of Australia ISBN 978-0-6487078-0-6 In lieu of normal copyright explanations, this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, circulated or transmitted, in any form or by any means with prior written permission of the publisher. However, for each copy you reproduce please make a small contribution to support the distribution of my new book to be published and distributed to school children in Kafa Zone, Ethiopia in 2020: From the rainforest to the pot: following a brown, double-combed chicken in southwest Ethiopia. ko-fi.com/buyruthjacksonacoffee

The thing I hate most about my mother is that she won’t let go of me.

She won’t learn English.

And she won’t talk to the interpreter because she gossips.

“These interpreters talk about people without using their names. Maybe they talk to their friend and tell them that they went to the doctor’s appointment or to the hospital appointment with someone,” she says.

But my mother gossips too. I heard her whispering with her best friend Lily in the kitchen the other day. “So and so's husband left her and went off to Perth and moved in with a girl who is 16,” my mother’s friend said.

I’m 16.

How disgusting is that!

1

I mean, I’m 16 and she’s 30. Can you believe it. 30!

She had me when she was 14. 14! Who's stupid enough to have a baby at 14?

Not me.

I mean, I started a relationship when I was 14 and Neil was 20, but we are real careful.

Neil takes me out on the weekends. He won’t let any of the other guys touch me. Not me, not my drink, not my smokes, nothing. Any of the other guys try it on and he smashes them in the head.

When I sleep at his place I tell my Mum that I’m at Tasha’s place every time.

2

My mother wants me to sit for hours with her.

One day she wants me to straighten her hair.

The next day she wants me to braid her hair.

I'm learning hairdressing at TAFE. Braiding, shampooing, straightening, relaxing, cutting, all that kind of thing. She must think I need extra practice or something.

3

Lately my Mum has tried to make me stay home more and more. It’s driving me nuts. She wants me to help with shopping, cleaning and cooking.

And every time someone comes over she wants me to help with the coffee ceremony. All that roasting and grinding when she wants to share coffee!

Incense and smells of roasting coffee beans fills the house.

Everything.

I’m sick of spicy food too. Sick of it smelling out the house. If I don’t close my bedroom door it fills the room and all my clothes smell like berberé.

It’s on my fingers from eating Ethiopian food.

Neil makes me wash my hands with perfumed hand wash and then put perfumed hand moisturiser on.

4

My mother hasn’t been to church for six weeks. She was staying at home because she was too tired to go. Too tired to shop and cook.

I’ve been eating noodles every day.

That friend of hers, Lily, the one who gossips with her, told her she had to go to the doctor. And that I had to go with her.

The only way my mother will go to the doctor or even to sign up for a new phone plan is to drag me along with her.

Kicking and screaming.

At least that’s what I feel like doing.

Inside.

5

I hate my mother.

She won’t let me do anything.

One of these days I’m just going to leave and move in with Neil.

6

My Mother tells me I’ve got to come with her to interpret because the doctor doesn’t speak Amharic.

He only speaks English and Arabic.

So we go to this Doctor, not the usual one who knows us, but one on the other side of town where we won’t see anyone from the community.

You know, it took 45 minutes in the second bus, after we changed buses in the city. How on earth did she find this quack?

7

So we’re sitting there and I’m translating back and forth.

So what’s the problem?’

“She’s always tired.”

“When did she start feeling tired all the time?”

“About six months ago.”

“Did she have flu or any other illness back then?”

“No. She didn’t.”

“Did she change her diet, or start losing weight?”

“She’s too tired to cook. She’s too tired to shop, to clean. She hasn’t been to church for weeks.”

8

So the doctor looks at her eyes which are a bit yellow, takes her blood pressure, feels her abdomen, listens to her chest and writes out requests for tests.

One for pee, one for blood.

Tomorrow.

Then come back in a week for the results.

9

In the meantime, the doctor said I've got to cook soup for my mother so she eats something.

Soup!

It’s the middle of summer! Who eats soup in the middle of summer?

You know I've got to go out with Neil so I make him go to the shop and buy some of those tins of soup that taste like tin.

She can have that.

10

I hate my Mother. She didn’t whinge about the soup but she didn’t want me to go out.

She doesn’t know Neil, he’s never gotten out of the car but I reckon she must know I’ve got a boyfriend.

Neil likes me, cause my skin is chocolate brown. He likes my frizzy hair.

Seeing as I want to be a hairdresser I hang out at the African Beauty Salon and do braiding on Saturdays and some Sundays.

I had my hair braided when I was little but I didn’t like it when my mother braided it and put butter in my hair like they do back in Ethiopia.

It stank!

But now, most girls don’t want braids, they want their hair straightened or permed. That stinks too.

11

My mother talks about ‘back home’ in Ethiopia almost every day.

When I was little she used to tell me stories about the Queen of Sheba and Solomon and how the Ethiopian emperors descended from them.

After the Queen visited Solomon in Jerusalem she gave birth to Menelik I. Emperor Haile Selassie, the Conquering Lion of the Tribe of Judah and King of Kings of Ethiopia and Elect of God, was descended from Menelik I.

Anyway, that’s how I got my name. Makeda. The Ethiopian name for the Queen of Sheba.

12

My mother told me that we came to Australia when I was very small.

“We travelled to Kenya by foot,” she says.

“Then we stayed in the refugee camp for eight years,” and she smiled a little and wiped her eyes with her netela.

13

“We” means her and my father. He died of malaria in the refugee camp in Kenya. My mother gave birth to me there. A traditional midwife helped her.

That’s all I know.

The other thing my mother talks about all the time is making injera, brewing tella, and cooking for her mehaber.

Things were always so much better in Ethiopia. I heard my mother talking about the mehaber to her friend Lily. The food. The family support, the church, the coffee. How the sisters met every month to sit and talk about their problems and to celebrate their Saint.

My mother was in the Maryam mehaber to celebrate Saint Mary. This was because she couldn’t get pregnant and when she finally did she wanted to be part of the Maryam mehaber because Maryam is the protector of labour and childbirth, the midwife of midwives and the one who gave birth to Jesus Christ to protect them.

14

A week later and we're back at that doctor’s office across town.

“How are you today?”

“She’s the same.”

“Well, this might not come as a surprise to your mother.”

“I’m afraid I’ve got bad news for her.”

I tell this to my mother and she starts crying that she’s got cancer and that she’s going to die. She’s crying so hard I can’t hear the doctor.

15

“Your mother has an infectious disease of the liver called Hepatitis B.”

“This is probably why she’s been feeling so tired,” the doctor says.

“It’s why she doesn’t feel like eating anything.” https://www.freepik.com/free-vector/diagram-showing-hepatitis-b-virus_4918102.htm

15

I ask the doctor about Hepatitis B. How did she get this liver infection?

My mother’s been in Australia for 12 years. She’s never had a relationship since my father died in the refugee camp.’

“It's an infection that most Ethiopians have been exposed to.”

“I've heard that sometimes people in the countryside think this infection is caused by a night bird or a bat so they call it Bats Disease,” he says.

“Your mother probably got this infection back in Ethiopia.”

“She may even have gotten it from her mother when she was born.”

“It’s even possible she got it from your father.”

“Because it's so common, most people don’t even know they have this type of infection in their liver.”

17

I hate my mother when she starts that wailing and chest beating stuff like someone’s died and she’s at a funeral. I mean it’s only an infection isn’t it?

The doctor tells me that there’s medicine to control Hepatitis B infection and slow down the damage to her liver. It won’t cure it but it will reduce the risk of it getting worse. She should eat a healthy balanced diet and not too much fat. She shouldn’t drink alcohol, or if she does, not much, he says.

Then the doctor tells my mother to go out to the waiting room.

He wants her to make an appointment to meet the special nurse who talks to people about how to manage liver infection.

The nurse is very nice and brings her a cup of tea.

18

The doctor tells me to wait.

“I want you to have a blood test too. This type of liver infection is so common in Ethiopia that almost everyone has been exposed to it.”

“Most people who've got this type of liver infection were born overseas. So it's possible you might have gotten this from your mother when you were born back in Ethiopia.”

“I was born in a refugee camp.”

“In Kenya.”

Now I really hate my mother.

19

Before we left, the nurse gave my mother a pile of brochures to read.

I can see that they're all about Hepatitis B.

Back home my mother doesn’t want to talk at all.

She makes me swear on the photograph of my father that I’ll never tell anyone anything.

Not even her best friend Lily.

20

I do all the same types of tests as my mother and then a week later I go back to the doctor.

He tells me I have Hepatitis B too.

But I haven't developed an immune response yet so I haven't gotten any liver damage and don't need any treatment.

I will still need a blood test every six months.

When I get the news that I have Hepatitis B I can’t tell Neil.

But I have to tell Neil because we’ve been having sex for ages now and never use a condom.

21

Neil drops me like I’ve got the plague.

22

My Mum is still not going to church.

Every time her friend Lily calls she makes excuses why she can't come over for coffee.

23

Then………about six weeks after we found out we both have Hepatitis B, Lily shows up on the doorstep and won't go away.

She insists on coming inside and talking to my mother.

They're both crying and Lily has her arms around my mother the whole time.

When my mother finally tells Lily that she has Hepatitis B, Lily starts crying even more.

24

Lily picks up her phone and rings another friend who is a nurse.

Would you believe it?

Before long Lily rings the whole mehaber and they all came over.

Some women bring injera, others bring wat, some bring bread and Abinet brought coffee.

It was just like that story about Stone Soup that goes something like this.

25

Once upon a time two travellers came to the edge of a town. They had had nothing to eat that day and didn't have any money.

So the travellers told everyone that it was so sad that no one in the town had any spare food but that they would make a pot of delicious stone soup for everyone to share.

The travellers asked someone to bring a big pot to cook the stone soup. One woman filled the empty pot with water and another placed it over a fire to boil.

“And now,” said one of the travellers, “for the special ingredients.” He reached into a special bag and took out three smooth stones and dropped them into the pot of water.

“We'll all be feasting soon,” he said.

26

Soon a crowd gathered around the pot. The travellers started sniffing their air and licking their lips before tasting the soup.

“It's delicious,” she announced.

“I agree,” said the other traveller, “however, I think it needs a little salt and pepper.”

Before long the travellers had people bringing onions, carrots, cabbage and other vegetables to add to the pot.

Potatoes. Oil. Lentils. Herbs and garlic.

Of course, the stone soup was delicious with all these ingredients.

Everyone went home to get a bowl and spoon.

27

In the end all my mother's friends have stayed friends.

They've all decided that there's nothing that can be done about her having Hepatitis B. But what they can do, is still be friends.

The nurse told them over and over that they won't get hepatitis from my mother.

28

My mother still wants to braid my hair and always does it too tight but at least she doesn't put butter in it anymore.

And even though I have to be careful and not use razors or sharps or anything when I'm learning hairdressing, I should be fine too if I get regular six-month check ups.

My mother still wants me to braid her hair one day and straighten it the next.

I don't know what that's all about but somehow I don't mind.

I've decided to let my hair grow for now and see what happens.

29

Glossary of Amharic words berberĂŠ

BerberĂŠ is a mixture of spices and red chillies, used in many types of wat and for seasoning.

injera

Injera is a staple flat bread made from tef, sometimes with sorghum or barley added.

mehaber

Mehaber is a rotating socio-religious gathering of 10-30 people who meet each month or so on the day of the saint that they honour. Each member takes a turn hosting the event, providing food and drink for the guests. In addition to the religious symbolism, women stress the social support through the mehaber.

Mehaber sisters are expected to visit each other when they give birth, at christening, if there is a funeral or at other major events. 'Mehaber provide an event to which women can look forward, an occasion to think about, to dress up for, and one which is socially approved. It is also an opportunity for regular visits to a different community, an important consideration given the restricted mobility of women'

(Helen Pankhurst, Gender, Development and Identity, 1992, Zed Books, London and New Jersey).

netela

The netela is a thin handmade cotton scarf with the texture of gauze worn by the women of Ethiopia and Eritrea. It is white with a colourful woven borders of one or many colours and patterns, called tibeb.

The netela can be worn for general wear covering the back and shoulders with the border folded up over the right shoulder. For church, the two layers are opened and the border goes over both shoulders.

During times of mourning the border is worn around the face or shoulders. For recreation or resting the

border goes over the left shoulder.

tef

Eragrostis tef is a cereal similar to millet, although it contains higher amounts of the essential amino acids, including lysine. It is used to make injera and sometimes porridge.

tella

Tella is a local beer, ideally brewed from barley.

wot

Wot is the spicy sauce dishes eaten with injera. It can be made from beef, lamb, chicken or vegetables.

30

Thanks…

Ruth Jackson talked with members of the Ethiopian community in Adelaide, Australia including Aden, Alganesh, Gize, Halima, Dr Tamrat and Shiferaw. Thanks to Pat and Francesca for feedback. Special thanks to Matewos for the drawings.

Please support my next book for Ethiopian children in Kafa Zone, Ethiopia. The story will be about the journey of a chicken—a brown, double-combed chicken that are prized throughout Ethiopia—from a rural neighborhood, through the rainforest, to the market, and then to the pot, and how food connects ordinary people during one of the Ethiopian Orthodox feasts. ko-fi.com/buyruthjacksonacoffee

33