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The refugees in Parrot's Beak, a region in southeastern Guinea that borders Sierra Leone, inhabit a lush tropical splendor that belies encroaching danger. The Revolutionary United Front, the rebels in Sierra Leone who mutilate civilians to instill fear--double arm amputations are a favored tactic--may be approaching if U.N. troops push them to the north. The U.N. High Commissioner for Refugees is in the process of transferring refugees by truckloads to Guinea's interior--an ambitious plan that is sure to tear apart more families. "You cannot avoid separation," says Alfonse Munyanza, who works for the agency. "You can minimize it, but there is no exodus that is done with people smiling." There are things that can be done by donors in other countries to help stitch these families back together (see following story). But for now, West Africa is filled with parents and children searching desperately for one another.
When the bad woman came for Aisha, she didn't understand what had happened. One day there was food and Bobo and Mamma, braiding her hair, washing her, cuddling her. And then nothing except angry shouts in a strange tongue and hard hands. Hands that landed on her backside and her face, hitting her if she cried or walked too slowly or asked for food or just because. She walked with the woman, who talked about doughnuts that never appeared for a very long time. She walked and walked until she ended up in a strange place where no one spoke Susu and no one looked familiar. She spent her days cleaning and helping with domestic tasks. The time passed.
Then they started walking again. The woman took her to a store with big bales of dried fish and posters of a big man in a yellow robe, the President. They went to sleep and woke to an angry man shouting. He didn't want them dozing on his fish. The angry man took them to another place and told them to sleep there. Then the bad woman left.
Aisha tried to keep quiet so the bad woman wouldn't come back. She stayed with the angry man and his wife and children. She began to feel very bad and hot all over. She didn't eat. She didn't play. She just kept very quiet in the corner.
A child without an identity cannot be found. In the refugee camps and the streets of Guinea there is no tree that locates a child and acts as an address. It is for humans to find the roots of a lost child.
After Aisha's disappearance, Marie refused to eat for a week. Ibrahim went to all the mosques in the area, offering sacrifices for his daughter's return. He gave a bag of kola nuts and 5,000 Guinean francs to each mosque that he visited. He asked all the local radio stations to publicize Aisha's disappearance. After six months and six mosques, he ran out of money and hope. Marie, for her part, believed her daughter had died.