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.I had imagined her much older and weaker.Instead the Mama standing in front of me is a dignified and still imposing woman.We each reach out a hand and as they meet we look each other in the eyes silently, trying to say as much as we can without speaking.My God, what an aura this woman projects! I do my best to read her emotions in her faintly clouded eyes.It’s not the done thing in Samburu culture to throw your arms around each other and give vent to emotional outpourings.People try to suppress their strongest feelings and look as serious and unmoved as possible.We remain there clutching each other’s hands for what seems like an eternity.I’d love so much to be able to tell her how important it is to me to see her again, that for all these years I have lived in the hope of being able to come face to face with her again, that she has been in all my prayers, that she has been one of the most important figures in my emotional life.Instead, all I can do is stand there mute and do my best to convey what I feel with my eyes and my heart.Suddenly she reaches out her right hand and touches my face, squeezes my chin tenderly and, smiling happily, whispers: ‘Corinne, Corinne, Corinne!’ Now the taboo has gone and I put my arms around her and can’t stop myself planting a kiss on her grey head.At this moment I’m overwhelmed with happiness that I managed to find the courage to come back, and I get the impression that for her too it’s a very emotional experience.For a fleeting second my thoughts flash back to the first time we met, when I had finally found Lketinga after a long and adventurous search and the two of us were sitting on a cowhide in the manyatta talking merrily when the crouched form of Mama had appeared in her hut, sat down opposite us and stared at me in what seemed like stony disapproving silence, with the smoke from the fire rising between us.Just like today we probed one another with our eyes and tried to read the other’s soul in her face.Back then she broke the ice by reaching out a hand to take mine, just as today she reached out to stroke my face.Now all the pent-up tension and emotion of the two meetings subside and I simply start talking to hold back the tears.I compliment her on her appearance.She still has a full face with scarcely a wrinkle.At most she has simply become a little bit smaller and thinner.Her hair is cropped close and has gone grey, which only has the effect of making her eyebrows look darker.Many Samburu have problems with their eyes because of the open fire in their manyattas and the smoke from them.She is wearing several layers of coloured bead necklaces around her neck and earrings of glass beads and brass.On her arms and feet I recognize the narrow silver bands she always wore, now digging deep into her flesh.They are like the jewellery Lketinga gave me at our wedding and I wore them until I began to get painful cuts on my ankles that wouldn’t heal for months at a time.The scars are still there.Mama’s clothing is an old blue kanga thrown over her shoulders and a brown skirt stained in several places.I’m glad I have three new skirts for her in my luggage.James might have bought her a skirt from time to time from the money we sent him.But here they will wear a piece of clothing until it falls apart and the old people at least are of the opinion that you can only wear one at a time.I move aside to let Albert pay his respects to Mama too.She remembers his last visit and is pleased to see him.Klaus, on the other hand, she regards with some suspicion.She doesn’t know him and with his camera he looks potentially dangerous to her.James and Lketinga act as interpreters so we can have a conversation.I fetch the new blanket and hand it to her but instead of being pleased, a frown passes over her face.Somewhat disconcerted, I wonder what it is she doesn’t like.Only later do I discover that she doesn’t approve of other people seeing what presents she gets, because it can cause envy and suchlike problems.To put her in a better mood I rummage in my rucksack and produce the little album of photos of Napirai that I’ve put together for Lketinga and her.I’ve arranged them with the most recent photos at the front, so that the further back it goes, the younger Napirai gets
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