Now is the Time for Running

“You know what sacrifices were made for the freedom we now enjoy. Should we now let it go at the stroke of a pen? Should one just write an X and let the country go just like that? You voted wrongly at the election. You were not thinking straight. That is why the president sent me here.”

Commander Jesus explains to the people of Gutu why he is here: to correct their mistake of not voting for Mugabe, the president. Within Mugabe’s regime, he is touted as the sole reason that Zimbabweans have freedom; consequently, they are expected to always vote for him or else risk facing violent consequences. This incident also serves to introduce the recurring theme of The Traumatic Effects of Political Violence.

“I wait until they are gone, until the jeeps are out of sight. Then I run into a place that is no longer my home. I stand in a village that is no longer the place where I live.”

When Deo’s home is destroyed by the soldiers, it ceases to become a real place to him. Everything and everyone that he has ever known has been destroyed, except for Innocent, and he no longer has any reason to stay. By describing the brothers’ determination to plunge right into the next necessity of their lives—fleeing Zimbabwe—Williams also implies that Deo simply has no time to grieve and process the true depths of his loss.

“Mr. Goniwe is my father too. My mother has shown me some others, but not this one. I am angry for no reason I can think of. I look at the man embracing Innocent. There is no photo of me this close to my father.”

Although Innocent and Deo share a father, only Innocent has spent time with him. Deo feels somewhat lost without a father figure, and this is a source of pain for him; it is one of the only points of tension between the brothers as they struggle to survive.

“I don’t understand but give him more money to pay for the inflation anyway. I don’t think Mr. Singh would cheat me, but how can something cost three times more in a month’s time?”

As the political situation in Zimbabwe worsens, inflation skyrockets in a way that Deo does not understand. The value of money will continue to be a stumbling block for Deo as he tries to navigate his way through Zimbabwe and South Africa; he makes several mistakes with money when he does not understand how its value shifts and changes rapidly over time.

“It is not good to see adults cry. They should not cry in front of children. Captain Washington sobs. I don’t know where to look or what to say.”

Deo’s grief at losing his mother, grandfather, and entire village is not always obvious to the reader. He hides his grief in order to protect himself from the trauma and is uncomfortable when the adults around him do not do the same. This moment also serves to create a sharp contrast between him and Captain Washington, for while the man is able to indulge in the luxury of expressing his grief, Deo is still far too deeply entrenched in survival mode to even know how he should feel about the enormity of his recent losses.

“It is always terrible to see Innocent when he has one of his fits. When he gets them it reminds me why I have to be with him, always.”

Throughout Deo’s life, he has always known that he must guide and protect his older brother. Within the context of their flight from Zimbabwe, their bond becomes especially vital to both of them, for just as Innocent could not get very far without Deo, the younger boy’s fierce desire to protect Innocent gives him a reason to go on when they lose the rest of their village. The two-way nature of this strengthening bond becomes all the more obvious when it is lost later in the novel; upon Innocent’s death, Deo loses all motivation to take good care of himself and succumbs to his grief and hopelessness.

“There is no yesterday or the night before; there is no tomorrow or the day after that. There is only now: a soccer ball, players running from side to side, and the goal at the end of the pitch.”

Soccer offers Deo an escape from the horrific circumstances that he and Innocent must navigate. In this moment, the freedom of simply playing the game he loves allows Deo to momentarily forget the hardships and struggles that he must endure every day. The insertion of such a game amidst great tragedies also foreshadows the role that soccer will play when he ultimately gains the opportunity to join a full-fledged soccer team and change his life for the better, thereby Overcoming Adversity Through Sports.

“I suppose I was like a ghost hovering above the shell of me, watching myself spraying tomatoes, picking tomatoes, packing tomatoes, and even eating tomatoes. It was so easy not to think about what happened to Amai and Grandpa Longdrop. If I worked hard, they stayed away and I didn’t have time to invite them into my mind.”

This passage illustrates the mental tricks that Deo uses to avoid dealing with the trauma of what happened to his family. Rather than opening himself up to the pain of the deep inner wounds he still carries, he instead deliberately distracts himself with the work of the moment, keeping himself busy and in an exhausted state. Even after so many months, he is still in survival mode and refuses to let himself mourn his many losses.

“‘We cannot live for fifty rand a month, but you hungry lions don’t know what real money is,’ said the younger man bitterly.

‘You are happy with little because you don’t know any better.’”

When Deo first learns how much money he will make with his job on the tomato farm, he assumes that the wages are decent because of the conversion rate between Zimbabwean dollars and South African rand. However, the South African villagers in Khomele know that the refugees’ wages represent a mere fraction of what they should be paid for the job; as a result, they resent the Zimbabwean refugee workers for accepting such low pay and depriving them of a vital source of income.

“You are not alone, Deo. There are thousands of people who come to find work in South Africa. And it is hard for the men from Khomele. They lose their jobs, and then they see people from across the river eating the food they used to eat and getting the money they used to get. They’re very angry, and who can blame them?”

Philani further explains why South Africans do not like the Zimbabwean refugee workers. He reveals that the local residents believe that the refugees are taking jobs from South Africans because they do the same work for less money. Their anger about this state of affairs foreshadows The Traumatic Effects of Political Violence that Deo and Innocent will face in Johannesburg when such resentments boil over.

“Is this place worse than Gutu? Did I go through everything only to lose my brother in South Africa? I should have stayed in Gutu. I should have stayed in Bikita. I should have stayed in Beitbridge. I should have stayed at the Flying Tomato Farm. None of this would have happened if I had not felt like we had to keep moving.”

When Deo loses track of his brother as the xenophobic riots break out in Alexandra, he panics, feeling responsible for Innocent’s safety, and he ultimately blames himself for everything that has happened to them. He despairs at the thought of losing Innocent after everything they have already been through, and The Solidarity of Brotherhood becomes all the more apparent as the brothers are irrevocably separated.

“I don’t feel myself falling, but I fall.

I don’t feel myself crying, but I cry.

I don’t hear myself screaming, but I scream.

I don’t feel the hands trying to stop me from going to Innocent, but somehow I reach the body of my brother, facedown on the ground, covered with rubble.”

Deo’s grief at his brother’s death is unavoidable, although, in this moment, the sheer shock of the sight before him numbs him to the true depths of his trauma even as he screams at the sight. Rather than feeling and hearing his grief, he is only distantly aware of the details of the moment, and the narrative accordingly relates the experience as though Deo is detached from his own body and from the sights and sounds of the scene.

“I used to know what to do with a soccer ball heading my way. I watch how it spins through the air: a new, shiny, black-and-white soccer ball. In another four seconds it will strike some part of my body. Maybe it will hit my face. Maybe it will hit my arm, my chest, or my leg.

I don’t care.”

At this point in the story, the narrative takes on a tone of numb detachment to reflect Deo’s indifference to the world around him. Deo has lost everything and everyone he loves, and in a desperate effort to cope with that pain, he has turned to substance abuse to drown out his feelings, keeping himself permanently numb by getting high on glue. The soccer ball that hits him in the face likewise foreshadows the sudden change that arrives in his life: the opportunity to participate in the Street Soccer World Cup.

“I am alone now. Nothing new about that either anymore. I have learned to be alone. You use people when you need them, and you leave them when you don’t. I meet people and I leave them. That is how it has always been with me.”

Despite the fact that Deo has been in Cape Town for 18 months, he feels that his existence has always been one in which he must function alone. In this moment, his despair has become so pronounced that he cannot remember a time when he had family or friends, for allowing himself to remember also requires him to open himself up to the pain of his past experiences.

“‘I am a refugee,’ I answered her. ‘How can I be anything else? Everywhere I look reminds me that this is not my home. The truth is in the pots they dish our food from, in the mat I sleep on, the blankets, in the tents. It is in the food I eat, in the water I drink, and in the look in your eyes—it’s in everything. I don’t want to be called a refugee, but how can I change what I am?’”

The only identity that Deo feels he can have in South Africa is that of a refugee. He has been stripped of everything he ever had by The Traumatic Effects of Political Violence and is now stuck in a country whose citizens view him not as an individual with a past, an identity, and a home, but rather as a faceless statistic and a problem to be resented.

“From somewhere far away I hear, ‘Goooaaal,’ and then the world spins around me and I hit the cement.”

Although the invitation to play soccer provides Deo with new opportunities, he has still not dealt with his grief and trauma over losing Innocent. In this moment, as he scores a goal in the first soccer game he has played for a very long time, he finds himself haunted by the voice of his brother, and the narrative implies that Innocent’s cheers are echoing back across time to greet and congratulate him.

“Finally, Us and Them were out in the open. Salie was a fool if he thought he could ignore what had happened. Us and Them were here to stay.”

When the young teammates squabble over their many differences in background, Salie is forced to confront the reality of xenophobia within the soccer team, which serves as a microcosm of The Traumatic Effects of Political Violence felt across the country. Deo and the other refugee players on the team do not feel welcome among the South African players and are still struggling to find a place of their own in this new social group.

“‘Where you come from doesn’t matter. Not for one moment,’ he added lamely.

‘Oh yes it does,’ I shouted, wiping the blood from my nose. ‘I’m not a South African, and I don’t plan on becoming one. In this country I am the lowest of the low because I come from Zimbabwe. Where you come from does matter—it matters a lot. You tell us we’ll be playing against people from Brazil, Australia, Canada, and Denmark. You think these people don’t care where they come from?’”

Although Salie tries to reassure everyone that their origins do not matter, Deo is quick to set him straight. He reminds Salie that he is treated differently because of where he is from and that he has had to deal with The Traumatic Effects of Political Violence at the hands of many South Africans. Additionally, his origins matter to him personally, just as they would matter to anyone from a different country, refugee or not.

“For a long time, many people in this country thought apartheid and segregation were the only way. And there were a lot of people who turned a blind eye to people who were suffering. Talk to me, talk to my father and his grandfather. We know about what happened in this country. And now, almost sixteen years after Mandela was president, we are making the same damn mistake again! We’re ignoring the suffering of people who come from other African countries far worse off than our own.”

Salie reflects on South Africa’s history with apartheid and realizes that the kind of suffering that the Black South Africans faced at the hands of the apartheid government are very similar to the prejudices now enacted on other African people. Many South Africans who fight against xenophobia in their country lament the same thing and use the apartheid era as a cautionary tale against xenophobia.

“And the strangest thing of all is that part of me is so sad, it feels like I will never stop crying, and another part is so happy to be talking about Innocent. I have missed my brother so much. He has been away for so long, and now here he is in this room beside me again. I wipe my eyes on the sleeve of my shirt. I can’t believe I am crying in front of all these people, and no one is laughing at me.”

When Deo finally confronts his grief and opens up about his story, he is finally able to feel close to Innocent again. By talking about his brother, he is finally able to find a way to keep The Solidarity of Brotherhood alive in his own brother’s absence.

“It is because we are not the same that we are stronger than any other team in this competition! All of you have learned to play soccer in different parts of Africa. Our combined playing style is like no other in the world, and it’s difficult to read. I can take the best from where you come from and make you the strongest team in the competition.”

Salie believes that the strength of the soccer team comes from the players’ diverse backgrounds and that their differences make them stronger, not weaker. This declaration echoes the way that people who are more accepting of migrants and refugees talk about South Africa; they argue that the country is stronger because it is made up of people from many different backgrounds.

“My father is real. I stare down at my name, written by his hand. He knew I existed.”

In this moment, Deo reconciles his complicated feelings about his father. He has spent much of his life not knowing whether his father even knows if he exists, but the inscription in the Bible makes him realize that his father does indeed know about him. Even though he does not find his father, this reassurance in the form of the Bible’s handwritten inscription is enough to bolster his optimism.

“‘They’re not refugees. They’re people,’ says T-Jay, cutting off the journalist. ‘I’m sick of all these stupid labels—refugees, asylum seekers, homeless, black, white, colored, pink! Let’s get one thing straight: On our team we don’t care about labels, we care about good soccer players.’”

T-Jay demonstrates the theme of The Solidarity of Brotherhood when he stands up for Deo in the face of the reporter’s insensitive questions. Although T-Jay was initially one of the core instigators of xenophobia on the soccer team, he has since changed the way he sees things after getting to know Deo and the other refugee players better.