MAMA DUDU by Meja Mwangi
HM Books
HM Productions Intl.                                        All Rights Reserved
copyright 2008 by HM Entertainment Inc.
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Mama Dudu
The sun had finally risen, scattering the cold haze and bringing with it an air of
irrational optimism, an unreasonable expectation.

‘You know,’ the giant said, pointing at the barrier with his silver-tipped baton, ‘In
the old days this place was full of strange people.’

He had stepped out of his office at nine o’clock sharp as promised, dressed
incongruously in white shorts and shirt, and his dreadlocks tucked under an official
cap with a shiny badge that identified him as an officer of the customs and exercise
department of the Government of Tanzania.  He had proceeded to raise a tattered
flag on a mast in front of his office hut, saluted smartly and, only then, turned and
approached the travellers’ vehicle.

His name was Bwana Fadhili, he had told them, but they were free to call him Mister
Customs or Bwana Forodha in Kiswahili as other travellers had before they were all
lured away by the new crossing at Namanga.

‘Many travellers came here in the old days,’ he informed them.  ‘Some going north,
some going south, and some going nowhere; just helping stuff across my border.’

But no one came this way anymore, he revealed, no one except hardcore
smugglers.  Even those were having second thoughts after he caught two of them
sneaking past his post with gemstones stolen from the diamond mines at Mwadui.

‘They are buried over there,’ he said, pointing to a gnarled tree about two hundred
yards away, ‘where they fell trying to dodge my bullets.’

Two piles of rocks marked the smugglers’ final resting place.
He let Ruben contemplate the sight and consider whether it was worthwhile trying
to outwit him.  Then he cleared his throat loudly and said, officiously, ‘Your
passports, please.’
ISBN 978-1-84728-468-6
Mama Dudu
hm books, 2007
315 pgs
Mama Dudu
by Meja Mwangi
The story begins with the arrival of a white couple at a remote and
crumbling border crossing in the African bush. When they try to pass a
day-old, black baby as theirs, the border guard smells a crime. He
becomes more suspicious when they fail to pinpoint the location of the
Bush Hospital, where they claim their baby was born, or produce
documents to support their story. While they wait for the police to
investigate, the border guard extends traditional hospitality to the
travellers and he and Ruben, the white man claiming to be the natural
father of a black baby, forge a friendship bordering on brotherhood –
well, almost.

... well-written and entertaining. THE READER.
A humorous clash of cultures,
egos and purposes.
- The Reader