Biology Reference
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Albert paused, sitting, his elbows still against his knees. He thought a moment before he ex-
plained that his father was wanted by the Simbas not only because he was an évolué and held a po-
sition of leadership, but also because he was a member of the PNP, one of more than fifty political
parties created after independence and perhaps the closest to Kasavubu's government at that time.
When he tried to recall what the PNP stood for, he remembered only the epithets.
“They were called la Partie des Nègres Payés—the Party of Paid Negroes—or Pene Pene Na
Mundele. Pene meant close, and mundele was a white person or a foreigner. It meant very close to
the whites. The real name was probably Partie Nationale du Peuple or something like that.”
Albert and his older sister, Gertrude, were staying in Yetee, his maternal village, when one af-
ternoon five barefoot Simbas arrived along the path, carrying machetes and clubs. Albert was only
three, but he remembered the moment and all that followed clearly.
The Simbas wore elaborate headpieces of small branches woven together as camouflage, and
their silhouettes were terrifying against the sun. They had come to find out where the rest of the vil-
lagers were hiding in the forest, and they called to Albert and his sister, “Where is your barrière?
An older man, Fabien Lokonga, whom Albert referred to as an uncle—nearly all villagers being
related—had taught them that if Simbas asked about their barrière , “barricade,” they were asking
the location of the secret camp. He'd taught them how to respond, and the children told the Simbas,
“Our barrière is at Bekongo.”
But the Simbas knew that the camp had to be closer. They began pushing and slapping Gertrude,
threatening both children with severe beatings if they didn't reveal its whereabouts.
Across the village, Fabien came out and called—Albert acknowledges the great courage re-
quired to do this—“You shouldn't mistreat those children. What is the problem? If you want to mis-
treat them, then you should come and mistreat me.”
As the Simbas grabbed Fabien and began tying his hands, an old woman motioned to Albert
and his sister from behind a hut. The two children quickly followed her past the buildings, beyond
the sandy yellow earth of the village, into the undergrowth around the slash-and-burn areas, what
he calls les champs , “the fields,” though they were heavily grown up, ten-foot cassava plants mixed
with trees and surrounded by forest. In the village, Fabien was beaten and told to confess the loca-
tion of the village. He would refuse, and eventually be released, but not until Albert and his sister
were far away.
Albert would forever recall hurrying from the cassava fields into the full rainforest, which
seemed, suddenly, like a different climate, comforting against his skin. Though he'd been in the
rainforest before, he'd never seen it like this. Everything had its own color, every color alive, his
heart beating fast, the trees perfectly still, the air moist. Maybe it was because of the adrenaline
and fear, or simply the contrast to the village, its exposed ground and buildings where all things
appeared washed out in the sunlight, the same shade of dusty earth. He was seeing hues he hadn't
known existed, a memory so vivid that it would seem to him, recalling this years later, that the eyes
of children perceive more, have yet to be dulled to experience.
He followed his sister and the old woman through the towering trees, not pausing at narrow
forks in the path, repeatedly ducking beneath undergrowth. The distance to the camp was less than
two miles, his sister at times carrying him on her back when he fell behind, though he walked most
of it, accustomed to traveling on foot, as most Congolese children were at his age.
For the next year, Albert lived with his family in the rainforest, in small huts hidden beneath
branches. They learned to avoid or flee elephants, and the adults did everything possible so that
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