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Red Apple

Fiction By Karamoh Kabba karamohslylhorg@aol.com

ed Apple is not just another grocery store – it’s a way of life for Africans in the Washington Metropolitan area. Situated at Langley Crossing in Maryland, a heavily immigrants populated shopping center and owned by Asians – Chinese immigrants with mostly a minority work force from third world nations of North, Central and South America and Africa, a place where Africans, especially Sierra Leoneans, come to shop, hangout and gossip. Here, one can give and take updates on past, present and future events. One can hardly see inside the store from outside because its already dirty windows are papered with posters and flyers of announcements. Many, in fact, are several years old. Inside, shoppers, mostly Africans, crisscross its busy aisles, to buy oggidi[i] and kaenda[ii], to buy maggi[iii] and peppe[iv]…

The clerks at the cash registers are all Chinese. Immigrants from Africa, the Caribbean and South America make up the rest of the store’s work force – mostly stock clerks and meat cutters. Tall poles are welded onto the store carts to prevent shoppers from taking, riding and abandoning them in the parking lot of a huge apartment complex, a block down the road, nicknamed Little Freetown but known officially as New Hampshire Towers. Its rear balconies are lined with rusted railings caused by years of residents hanging their laundry out to dry. In response, the complex’s management sent a strongly worded letter to its mostly Sierra Leonean residents banning this practice, and continues to send reminders, especially to the “jos cam[v]” residents. In and around the lobbies and parking lots of Little Freetown, the tones and inflections of Krio[vi] dialect abound. Claudia Johnson, a long time resident of Little Freetown, stood by the door of the south tower looking for Isatu, her friend who lives in the north tower. Isatu is slender in shape, but when dressed in a burgundy mini skirt she is fond of, her waist and belly look like half a portion of red apple. It was a hot summer day, and Claudia watched her walked on the sun-lit side walk across the towers. Claudia was dressed in an African outfit, a cotton gara blouse and wraparound.  She is slightly heavy with an over-sized buttocks and she thinks African apparel fits her better. Claudia and Isatu used to be dark in complexion, but are much lighter now due to bleaching their skin. Traces of their former complexion could only be seen on their knuckles, which are resistant to bleaching. Isatu pushed open the door and beckoned Claudia outside.

“Mi sister Kusheh oh[vii]!” Claudia greeted Isatu in crystal Krio as a Latino woman walked by and stared at the two women. Swoop! Swoop! The red apple like and over-sized buttocks swapped left-and-right and up-and-down up the street to Red Apple to do their weekend grocery shopping.

The most striking thing at Red Apple is the meat counter. A glimpse over the counter reveals cuts of steak and tenderloin perishing, drying out and turning black. That’s because Red Apple patrons – Sierra Leoneans and others from West Africa – buy enormous amounts of ox-tails, portions of cow-gut, cow skin and pig feet. Claudia and Isatu walked straight to the meat counter and stood in line.

“Na you de take da kine nonsense. If na me, ah de go right na de nursing home en cherr ee[viii]…,”  Isatu encouraged Claudia to deal with her husband, Sahr Johnson, a Registered Nurse and also the Nurse-in-Charge at Hebrew Home, a senior assisted living facility a few miles down the road from Little Freetown. Isatu revealed that Sahr Johnson slept with many of the women who work for Hebrew Home, but she did not tell her friend that her vehemence stemmed from being dumped by Sahr Johnson for a younger, more buxom worker who had just arrived from Sierra Leone.

“Nex! Nex! Nex[ix]!” the Jamaican meat cutter yelled, repeatedly in a deep Jamaican accent, at Isatu who was busy giving a run-down of last night’s episode at Hebrew Home.

“Na complete dog u de sleep with so[x],” she pounded on Claudia.

“How for do – ah no say na player, but if ah bin don pass mi board so now, ah no go suffer lekeh so bo[xi]” Claudia consoled herself.

Unlike the many women co-workers Sahr Johnson fools around with, he had managed to acquire an associate degree in nursing at one of the community colleges around the beltway. Most of his victims are Certified Nursing Assistants (CNAs). All these nursing facilities need to function are two or three Registered Nurses to meet states’ certification demands and a pool of CNAs. In these circles of nursing home work staff, someone like Sahr Johnson is considered ‘a one eyed man in the kingdom of the blind.’ He had been kicked out of several nursing homes for causing fights amongst CNAs over him in extramarital love affairs.

Well, Isatu was not quite satisfied with Claudia's response. She wanted to see Sahr Johnson busted, “Mi sister mek ah tell you waitin you nono; three days ago somebody see Sahr Johnson de kiss da rusty pickin way jus start the woke[xii]”

These women are vulnerable to Sahr Johnson’s abuse of power at Hebrew Home because they have two jobs and are always running late in between jobs. Ironically, Sahr Johnson prepares the schedules. They also like to call off whenever there is a party to attend on weekends. Sahr Johnson had also stopped seeing the CNA who had seen him with the new girlfriend. But such incident doesn’t go by without the gossiping and mocking now being manifested. She was speaking very loudly, slapping the sides of her buttocks in vogue, throwing her hands in the air, rolling her eyes, occasionally furrowing her brow in disgust that Claudia has been too patient taking “dis nonsense[xiii]!” But the noise didn’t matter to anyone in Red Apple because everyone here is loud, and the meat cutter only cared about keeping the line moving.

Red Apple brings to life many more memories – The butcher was busy weighing chicken necks for the next customer, but the sights of actual chicken heads on the far side ready to be sold made Claudia giggle. It reminded her of a story Sahr Johnson had told her many years ago. Claudia had worked hard between two jobs to sponsor his coming to the United States. Even once he arrived, he had a hard time finding a job, and Claudia tirelessly took care of all the bills. “Ah! Dis Sahr, if ah bin no[xiv],” she sighed. The chicken necks and heads had ignited old memories and she smiled as she reminisced:

“He went to a Kentucky Fried Chicken fast food chain to find a job just when he had been in the country for only two months.

He told the manager on the job interview; “I am an experienced cook.”

The manager asked him to share his cooking experience with him. Very shy then, but encouraged by the manager’s curiosity, “Tell me more boy, how do you cook chicken?”

He cleared his throat, took a deep breath and started, “First, you chase the chicken.”

“What! Did you just say “chase the chicken?” Hmmm, carry on boy…tell me more,” the manager further encouraged him.

“Yes, and you cut its throat with a knife, usually following some ritual for expiation for the life you are about to take,” he said, now developing confidence from the manager’s show of curiosity.

The manager pulled his chair closer, held his chin in his hand, looking enthralled. “What else?” He asked.

Now that his confidence was further bolstered by the thought that the manager was impressed with his experience, he continued; “You then boil the chicken in a large pot to soften its feathers before plucking them off—it is easy to pluck chicken feathers after you boil it. Now is time to cut it up into small pieces to be cooked into a delectable soup in palm-oil or groundnut-oil.” He concluded.

“I tell you what boy; you have too much experience for this job. I’ll call you,” the manager had said and dismissed him.”

Approaching the cash registers were Marie, Kumba and Eye-eye. Their topic was another weekend party three weeks ago at 25^th Place. Many Sierra Leoneans who live in Little Freetown have some things in common. From the time they arrive in the US from Sierra Leone to the time they meet at Red Apple as independent members of the community, they know no place other than Little Freetown, Red Apple and work places, mostly senior living facilities. From the airport, they came straight to Sierra Leonean households or apartments, and their lives rotate in a triangle as follows; five days of work at nursing homes mostly run by Sierra Leoneans, off days at Red Apple and nights at 25^th Place party hall. Very seldom they find themselves outside this triangle for picnics or parties at different locations. But if they do for business reasons, their body language show panic and paranoia. Many come direct to Little Freetown through sponsorship by family members, husbands or wives and friends thereby making it the largest Sierra Leonean community in the area. Little Freetown used to be part of Silver Spring. Several years ago, the counties did redistricting and Little Freetown fell to Takoma Park. Many who came to the United States in the early 90’s, thought of Silver Spring as the capital city of America. Before they arrived, many addresses they saw or sent letters to were in Silver Spring, Maryland. In fact, statistics indicate that “Sierra Leoneans make the largest population of Africans living in Maryland.” But Red Apple isn’t just popular among Sierra Leoneans in Maryland. It’s a popular destination for almost all Sierra Leoneans in the Metro area of Maryland, Washington and Virginia.

Marie, Kumba and Eye-eye were discussing a fight that broke out that night between rivals over Sahr Johnson. This was prompted by the sight of Claudia in the store. Sahr Johnson had told Claudia that he was going to New York on a nurses’ conference only to go on a date at the popular 25^th Place with a new girlfriend he had met at work that week. The party was on a Saturday, but Sahr had left home on a Friday. He had already booked a room at a Days Inn not too far from 25^th Place. He had also put on his best party clothes and slapped on some cologne that teased Claudia.

“A no say noto no meeting u de go[xv],” Claudia said, but Sahr Johnson didn’t pay any attention to her. Instead, he was busy preparing himself to leave as quickly as he could before the argument turned into a fist fight.

“Sahr na to u ah de talk nor make lek u nor yeri me[xvi],” she insisted.

“U beteh sidom saffu. U de talk lek say way de rent time cam na u de payam[xvii],” he warned her.

“If na da party u de go, this tem we go mittop the[xviii],” Claudia promised.

But Sahr Johnson still did not pay any attention to her, knowing that she couldn’t go to any party without him. It didn’t really matter whether she was aware of his plan or not. The important thing was for him to leave, and whatever came after he would deal with later. He knows how to intimidate her. Just a threat to abandon her is enough to make her give in to his lies. He is the bread winner of the house and that gave him the upper hand. Claudia’s situation was even worse because she had gone through six months CNA training, and had taken the board exam many times without success. She works ‘living-in[xix]’ for old folks as a domestic servant for the weekdays only to return home on weekends. That gives Sahr Johnson time to do his fooling around with the women in the triangle. Lo and behold rumors had spread that he’s seeing a new girl he intended to take to the party. Marie explained the story compounded by uncontainable giggles creating catcalls and laughter in the store:

“She looked for help from two of her cousins, Binta and Sarah and a friend, Mabinti to help her catch him in the act. She was provoked into action by Mabinti who told her of Sahr Johnson’s plan with his new girlfriend.

Once at the party hall, Binta and Sarah went inside to locate Sahr Johnson and the girlfriend’s position. The two were dancing to a very popular Jamaican dancehall track. The girlfriend was in a crouching posture, rocking her behind on Sahr Johnson’s crotch as he held on her shoulder blades as if he was engaged in a professional massage therapy session when Claudia, Binta, Sarah and Mabinti bustled in on them. Before they could fully understand what was going on, pieces of the girlfriend’s underwear were having a dance of their own in the sound filled hall clearly visible under neon and florescent lights. She was severely flogged by Claudia and her helpers to the extent that she urinated on herself. By then, Sahr Johnson was long gone.”

The three of them broke into raucous laughter so distracting that Isatu noticed and used it to further provoke Claudia; “Na u den pikin den de laf so fulmunku[xx].”

Claudia was unnerved by Isatu’s persistent mocking. Both women walked straight to Marie and her friends in an exchange of cursing so severe both parties were asked to leave the store by the county police.

This is a day in the Red Apple, the meeting tangent in a triangle of shopping, hanging-out and gossiping. A place to buy …shakitombway and n’jolabaitae[xxi], to buy crane-crane and okra[xxii], to buy Vimto and Fanta, to buy Born Vita and Ovaltin and to buy… What about Guinness Stout and Heinekens[xxiii] – two blocks down the road is Tick-Tuck liquor[xxiv] store, a place where the clock never ticks.

Karamoh Kabba © January 12, 2004

Karamoh Kabba copyright 2004 
Post 01/21/2004

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