Behold the Dreamers Read Online Free Page B

Winston added, “my job as a corporate lawyer does not involve any lying or manipulation.”
    â€œOf course,” Bubakar replied. “I’m sorry, my brother. I must have mistaken it with another kind of law.”
    The two men laughed.
    â€œWhat happened to the young lady you impregnated?” Bubakar said, turning to Jende.
    â€œShe is back in Limbe.”
    â€œAnd the child you had with her?”
    â€œShe died.”
    â€œI’m so sorry, oh, my brother. So sorry.”
    Jende averted his gaze. He needed no sympathies. He certainly did not need condolences coming fourteen years later.
    â€œYou went to prison before or after she died?”
    â€œBefore she was born, when my girl’s parents found out I was the one who pregnant her.”
    â€œThat’s how it normally works,” Winston said. “Parents call the police, boyfriend gets arrested.”
    Bubakar nodded, double-underlining a word on his writing pad.
    â€œI was in prison for four months. I came out, the baby was one month old. Three months later, she died of yellow fever.”
    â€œSorry, oh, my brother,” Bubakar said again. “Truly sorry.”
    Jende took a sip from a glass of water on the table and cleared his throat. “But I have another child in Cameroon,” he said. “I have a three-years-old son.”
    â€œWith the same woman that you had the daughter with?”
    â€œYes. She is the mother of my son. She is still my girlfriend. We would be married now and be a family with our son if only her father would let me marry her.”
    â€œAnd what’s his reason for disapproving of the marriage?”
    â€œHe says he needs time to think about it, but I know it’s because I’m a poor man.”
    â€œIt’s a class thing,” Winston interjected. “Jende’s from a poor family. This young lady’s family has a bit more money.”
    â€œOr maybe it’s because this young lady’s father hasn’t gotten over what happened to his daughter?” Bubakar said. “I mean, as a father, to see your young daughter get pregnant, drop out of school, and then lose the child, it’s all very hard, abi ? I don’t think I’ll ever like the person who did this to my daughter, whether he is from a rich family or poor family.”
    Neither cousin responded.
    â€œBut it doesn’t really matter what his reason is,” Bubakar continued. “I think the story is our best chance for your asylum. We claim persecution based on belonging to a particular social group. We weave a story about how you’re afraid of going back home because you’re afraid your girlfriend’s family wants to kill you so you two don’t get married.”
    â€œThat sounds like something that would happen in India,” Winston said. “No one does anything like that in Cameroon.”
    â€œAre you trying to say Cameroon is better than India?” Bubakar retorted.
    â€œI’m trying to say Cameroon is not like India.”
    â€œLeave that up to me, my brother.”
    Winston sighed.
    â€œWhen can we send the application?” Jende asked.
    â€œAs soon as you provide me with all the evidence.”
    â€œEvidence? Like what?”
    â€œLike what? Like your prison record. Birth certificates of your children. Both of them. Death certificate of the little girl. Letters. Lots of letters, from people who’ll say that they’ve heard this man say he’s going to kill you if he ever sees you again. People who’ve heard his brothers, his cousins, anyone in that family talk about destroying you. Pictures, too. In fact, anything and everything about you and this gal and her father. Can you get it for me?”
    â€œI’ll try,” Jende said hesitantly. “But what if I cannot get enough evidence?”
    Bubakar looked at him with a dash of amusement and shook his head. “Ah, my brother,” he said, putting down