Death River
I wake up with sweat dripping down my face. I was having a nightmare about my mom. She died from drinking the dirty river water. It was 2 years ago today. Outside, I hear my best friend Hena.
“Tasumi, Tasumi, wake up it’s time to go!”
I get out of bed and meet her outside. We each take a bucket and start walking the 16 miles to the nearest river. It’s the same river that killed my mom. While we walk, I tell Hena about my nightmare.
“It was awful,” I start, “We were in the house and she woke up. She got dressed and grabbed the water bucket. Just before she left she leaned over my bed and kissed me on the forehead and told me she would be back in a little while. Then she left. Before I knew it, she was at the river filling up the water bucket. After the brown water was spilling over the edge, she cupped her hands and emerged them in the river. She bent down and slowly pulled her hands to her lips and started to sip. When she got home I was making breakfast for daddy and little baby Maniam. Then, all of a sudden, she got really sick,”
Hena is intently listening to my story. She’s good at that. Never talking, never interrupting, just letting me go on and on until I am blue in the face.
“and after a couple of days, she died.” I look at Hena waiting for something but she says nothing. We keep walking and eventually arrive at the river. The water looks sort of like thin, melted chocolate ice cream. When we get closer, we see the animals that usually bath and drink the water are dead. Hena puts her hands over her mouth and looks at me.
“What happened?” she asked me. I walked over to the dead animals and noticed that one of the animals had an open wound.
"The water is contaminated,” I said, “The animal must have died in the water and contaminated it.”
I heard voices behind me and turned around. Two women from the village were filling up their buckets. I ran over to them as fast as I could screaming.
“Nooooo! No stop! You can’t drink the water!” The women looked at me in confusion and asked what was wrong. I pointed at the animals and told them about the contaminated water. As I talked, their faces slowly went from confused to panic.
“Sweet heart, we already took 28 gallons of this water to the village,” one of them said.
“People are probably already drinking it,” said the other. I look at Hena and I know she knows what I am thinking about.
By now, dad and Maniam are up and in the village. Maniam is probably playing with her friends while dad stands in line for unclean water. I start running.
“Are you OK?” I hear Hena faintly in the backround. I think I mumble something but I’m not sure if she is even close enough for her to hear me. I don’t care. All I can think about is my dad and 4 year old sister and how I can’t lose them because if I lose them, I will have nothing. I can feel the thorns pricking the bottom of my feet and I realize I have veered off the dirt path. My blood stains the dead plants all around me. I get back on the path but I don’t stop running. I can’ t stop running. I can’t stop running because I have to do everything in my power to get to the village before they drink the water. If I stop running, even for a couple seconds, I will have to live with the fact that the rest of my family is dead and I didn’t do everything I could to save them. I am almost there. Just a little farther. I turn around and see Hena in the distance. She too has panic written on her face. I turn back around and have to stop myself before I run into a mud house.
“Don’t drink the water!!!! Stop!” I am gasping for air. When I get to the buckets of water, I kick all of them over with my red feet. I run over to my dad and ask if he or Maniam have had any of the water. He looks at me and says “Of course we have. We were lucky enough to be the first ones in line.” I look into his eyes and see pure joy. I feel a hot tear roll down my cheek followed by another and another.
“That water is contaminated. An animal with an open wound was bathing in it and died,” I am crying so hard, I can barely form words. I manage to ask if Maniam has had any and to my horror he says yes. Then he pulls me into his arms and kisses my forehead. He does the same thing 2 weeks later just before he dies.
~~~~~
Tasumi was 11 years old when her mother died and 13 when her dad and little sister died; all three from drinking dirty water. Tasumi is not the only child who has lost loved ones to dirty water and she won’t be the last. Imagine if everyone had clean water. Now, imagine how that can happen.
