DERTOGADA

A novel
By
Yisma`ake Worku

Translated By
Zelalem Nigussie
©Yisma`ke Worku

First Print 2012

 PUBLISHED BY
Unity Publishers
Email unitypub@gmail.com
Mobile +251912028794
+251911669946
Addis Ababa
Ethiopia
Sold Online at www.mereb.com

TRANSLATOR’S
NOTE
Dear readers,
Before everything else, I would like to
thank the Great Godwho had shaped the
universe and all life in it using only His
words. a lot of great individuals
contributed to this work. This book
contains pieces of the good spirits and
helping hands of many people of good will.
I would like to thank all my friends and
family especially:- my dear brother
Ashenafi Nigussie, my dear sis Hanna
Nigussie, my good mentors and friends
Desta Kebede, Solomon Mengesha,
dearest Emebet Alemayehu – who
currently lives in Dublin, Daniel
Taddesse, Artist Henok Melkam-zer,
Assefa Adenew, Samuel Zewge,
Mekonnenthe great technician, Wondwossen
Gemechuand Dese Melese. I really do not
have the words to tell you, how much
help you had been as I went through the
job. I could not have achieved it without
your support. Most of all, my sincere
applause for the great writer of our age
Yisma`ake Worku who has successfully
ignited the flames of literature
renaissance in Ethiopia that had been in
the dark for many years – you shall remain
in the hearts and souls of your country for many
ages to come.
Allow me to say something about the
general style and trend I followed when
translating this magnificently written
novel and give you a picture of my views
as to the ideas and characters depicted in
the book.
Yisma’ake writes with a style of his own,
made of intricate web of events filled
with suspense, excellent story telling -
coherent, flawless, and very well chosen
characters interesting enough, just to be
with. Its Amharic version gave me little
trouble during the translation. It was as if
the promising writer who gave birth to
our literary renascence, knowingly wrote
it thinking ahead of time. By that I
meant, he did not intend the novel to
reach local readers only but as a tribute
for readers all over the globe.
My humble opinion is that, maybe Africa
and all the developing nations could use
some of their genius minds if they
showed them just a little bit of
appreciation and acceptance.
If you have anything in your mind that
you would like to tell me after you read
the book, please do so.
I wish you all a very enlightening reading
experience.
Zelalem Nigussie -
Translator

Email:
zelalem66@gmail.com

Phone:
+251913251853

Addis Ababa,
Ethiopia
FORWARD
In this sophisticated age of space
exploration, you are now presented with a
prime novel, adequately capable of
deserving the eyes of all readers.
Written with a flawless literature coupled
with a magnanimous storytelling, it has a
particular style that is unique only to the
author.
I have personally read several science
fiction novels and watched scientific
movies, and this one competes with every
single one of the best. You will know this,
when reading it from a perspective, which
takes into account the author and the
conditions that presented him the
enthusiasm and the perseverance of
writing it until the end.
Chapter after chapter it takes you on a
voyage overflowing with suspense. It does
not stick to a single theme; rather it is a
sum of many complicated stories. Action
and breathtaking speed follows along, as
we turn each page.
It manifests all the characteristics of a
science fiction, a romantic, an
underground action, and a historical
novel. In this sense, the novel has shown
us intricate events with such
interconnectedness, we have never
realized before. It is a magnificent novel,
which successfully bonded the past with
the future.
Aha! About this last point, here lies only
one of the ideas, the book included. It is
about the battle between achieving
material or intellectual wealth. Moreover,
it is a book about nationalism... about
who will give away...what or who, for the
sake of one's own advantages? And who
shall fight, ‘Until the last drop of blood,’
for the sake of his/her identity? And etc...
The rest is left for the reader to
contemplate with...
Author Sebhat G. Egzea’beher

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
To my father in all things, Alemu
Beyadigae Getahun, I say to you; let the
books you provided me since the time I
was unfamiliar with modern education,
witness your greatness as a father, if they
can utter a word of oath. Here now…
accept the blessings of a son!
Aboye…Author Sibhihat
G/Egziabher, you have shined your light
on the script, even though I am the one
who wrote it. Your actions brought to
light one of the secrets behind your
unmatched ability to live with every
passing generation, in harmony. You are
an innovator never intimidated by new
ideas, new generations, and new eras. I
now pray, Sibhihat Le'ab (In the name of
God, The Most High) to commence my
journey with your blessings, for I have
lived my past days with and by you.
Gash Yeshaw Tesema ( Author and
Critique ) or shall I call you the masseur
of Kotebe, allow me to raise my pen and
show you my gratitude, because you have
shown me that , there is no literary sprain
or cramp that can`t heal or be restored,
with the touch by the hands of wisdom.
To author and poet Be'iwqetu Seyoum,
author and poet Endale Geta Kebede, Dr.
Yoftahe Seyoum, author and poet
Zelalem Getachew, Dr. Kefelegne and to
the American Authoer Daniel Jonson, I
pray for all of you to stay around the
table set for art.
To poet Belew Gebeyehu or my
'Gemaliyal' ...as I call you: The name of
the demon that possessed us both is
“Literature”, which shall not be exorcized
with a holy water, slashes, or even
crucifixion. It will not die with us when
our times are up.
To Engidawork Habte, “my stack
library”’: we have all the time we need
until our graves are dug, so that we can
listen to all you have read about. How
blessed are we. To Tsega Andargie, would
a “thank you “be enough to reach the
heights of our efforts? If so, accept my
blessing to last a lifetime. Also, to Melaku
H.Micheal, Emebet Endale, Senaiet
Tesfaye, Kal-kidan Getachew, Teigst
Solomon, Fasika Getachew, Nardos
Tsegaye, Ins. Alazar Getachew, Ato
Derege Walae, Getenet Dana and Delalem
Ayu; I want you all, to please accept my
blessings.
 Maher Shalal Hash Baz

The Spoil Speedeth;

the Prey Hastenth.
Isaiah: 8:1

In memory of
Ethiopian
NASA Scientist

Kitaw Ejigu
PREFACE

Half way in the darkness of the night, a mighty

angle sent from The Celestial Author, flung open
my door and woke me. I was lying upon myself.
The angle plucked a single feather out of his
golden wings, shaped it into a pen, and handed it
to me. Then he told me to scribe the words,
Maher Shalala Hash Baz “The Spoil Speedeth;
the Prey Hasteth.”

I dipped the feather in my own sweat and begun

scribing while at the same time; I summoned the
characters who will be speaking his words that I
was listening right now. The few characters I
created developed a strong likeness - in flesh and
in soul - with the characters I knew from my
generation and the characters created by the
hands and breathe of the celestial author. It is a
sure fact that, the characters created by God
were made out of mud; while the characters I
created, using the knowledge I learned from my
creator, were adopted from real people. The
characters of my imagination captured images of
me and my kinds inherited a flesh from human
flesh, a desire from the human desire, and a
dream from the human dream; and manifested
with a perfect human nature, at the same time
keeping their true natures unperturbed.

Nevertheless, there lies a difference between the

characters I brought to existence and the
characters made by the Celestial Author. The
One Who authored us, eventually ended the lives
of the characters he created. Unlike him, I neither
kill nor save my creatures; they were destined to
die of their own accord or they shall be saved
likewise, for I am not superior to them. That was
why they had gone wild with joy, when I told
them that, I will not be responsible for their
demise nor for their salvation.”

I said, “In my hand, I hold, not a sword but a

pen. None of you shall be held guilty for your ill
fate... your damnation! Save yourselves! We are
all our won patients, and our own doctors. I am a
character myself, created by the hands of the
Celestial Author. I am my own patient, my own
nurse and my own doctor. We all are characters
made in His hands. True I am your god, yes
indeed! However, I will not be crucified for your
sins. I have no knowledge about you more than
you know thy selves.... One more thing that sets
me apart from the Celestial Author is that: I have
no hell to burn you in, or a heaven to reward you
with eternal life. Hell and heaven are both within
you. There exists no sin, nor a holy being, a
damned or a good character on the face of the
earth. When any force that stands against you,
looks upon you as “the damned” then, you in
turn call that opponent with the same name. For,
all are good characters in their own eyes. Thus, I
shall not dishonor or favor any one of you over
the rest. I have no part in your life except to
author you. That is why I shall not judge you.”
What I said made a big impression on them.
They were delighted and became one with the
characters that the Celestial Author created. Then
I was engaged in writing this book with both sets
of characters and their lives. Then when I was
done with my writing, the angel who awakened
me came and sealed my lips with a blazing hot
sword, so that I dare not speak about the rest of
their story. He told me in the ancient Ge’ez
tongue, “keep the prophetic words of the book,
for the time has come.”, and went back flapping
his wings to where he came from. He was saying
He pinned back the feather he gave me into his
golden wing, as if he were afraid that the celestial
Author would be angry with him and say ,
“Where in the damned world have you lost it !?”

Yisma`ake Adonie
PROLOGUE
USA 1997

In the American Air Force office, the

lieutenant General tossed the black
document on the spacious table, with
anger. An American Air Force top flying
officer, Gera, had not yet returned from
his last mission until this day. His co-
officers and colleagues who called him
the Winged Pilot, never failed to bring up
his name every passing day since his
disappearance. The Ethio - American
pilot was said to have been seen with the
prestigious Ethiopian scientist repeatedly,
before he was reported missing without a
trace. Though the Secret Service put him
under interrogation, he completely denied
any knowledge of the subject. Gera was
suspected to have flied to Africa in a
small combat aircraft.
Two years after the incident, another
famous Ethio-American Scientist Colonel
Fissiha - nick named `Ethiopia`–was
reported missing, leaving on his desk his
unfinished project aboutdeveloping
Surface - to - Air Missiles. His coworkers
were left speechless. They used to make
fun of him whenever he talked about this
country,`you must be that last dictator of
Ethiopia! Or else his nationalistic spirit has
possessed you!` He just laughed off these
remarks. However, some said that the
missile scientist run away without a dime in his
pockets. sources had it that he managed to
transfer his money to his homeland.
Three days after this disappearance, an
investigation was conducted on NASA`s
engineer Shagiz, to prove alleged
meetings with the colonel. Nevertheless,
the NASA man retaliated by saying, “I
suspect, you would`ve came to me even if
you had lost a cock you brought from
Ethiopia.”

ISRAEL, March 1998

Two Ethiopian scientists engaged on their

duties inside a clandestine Research
institute, built underground near the
outskirts of Tel Aviv, suddenly vanished
without a trace. The Israel security
conducted a thorough search to arrest
these scientists, to no avail.

North Korea, September 1999

The disappearance of an Ethio-Korean
scientist was kept classified. The scientist
had a double citizenship, born from an
Ethiopian father - veteran of the allied
Korean War who never returned back
home - and a Korean mother. The search
for the scientist, who worked in a secret
nuclear reactor operated by robots,
continued but without a result.
 India, August 2000

The well-known computer scientist,

Girmachew Zeleke, never returned from
the Himalayas, where he went for a
holiday. The search conducted with a
helicopter full of the Indian police failed
to explain about his whereabouts.
Girmachew was a very important
personality in India.
 Russia, October 2002

This one is known by his nickname -

Amoraw (The Eagle) - among his friends
in Ethiopia, before setting out for the
former Soviet Union for academic
purposes. The Republic of Russia wasn`t
yet ready to let go of the man`s unique
talents. He was a bright lad. However, this
senior radar technology scientist was
reported missing on a Russian newspaper
four years after he left his country.
CHINA, December 2003

Engineer Shagiz took a confidential flight

to china, to make a certain bargain. The
negotiation was unfruitful, for reasons
that were unexplained. The day after the
famous NASA scientist turned down a
request to work for china`s space
Research centre, another scientist working
for the centre, by the name Engineer
Eyouel Atnafu never showed up to work.
His whereabouts remained as baffling as
an unsolvable quantum mechanical
equation.
Eyouel had just returned from
transferring all his cash to an Ethiopian
monk`s account, when a small aircraft
with an engine silencer touched down on
a field behind his apartment. Forty
minutes after the monk called to confirm
to him that the transaction was successful,
the engineer left Hong Kong on the small
aircraft. Here also, the intensive research
brought no results. Chinese secret service
associated the incident with the recent
visit that Engineer Shagiz made to China.
However, they didn`t have any grounds
to prove their speculation.

CUBA, January 2004

President Fidel Castro received a bad
news. As soon as he heard the news, he
banned all kinds of traveling out of
Cuba. Following his orders, all boarders
of Cuba were closed. There was a joke
made to humor the strictness of the
situation: that day, the only places that
managed to get away without being
searched were the pockets on Castro`s
clothes. Every public and private vehicle
along the highways were queued and
searched. Every apartment - low or high
in standard - was a search target. In spite
of all this, the medical laboratory
scientist, Cuba has for so long stashed
away, could be found nowhere. Nowhere!
RATIONALE
ETHIOPIA, 1969

On the horizon west of Addis Ababa, the

sun was setting with an illusion of a
glowing hot red ball. Among the hectic
hour pedestrians, a monk was seen taking
off his red skullcap that declared his
priesthood, with an angry snatch. He then
tossed it at the bottom of the statue of a
man, who stood proud on his knees with
chains on his hands, in the middle of the
Abune Petros square at the heart of
Addis Ababa.
The statue was made in the honor of a
monk Peter. He was a patriarch of the
Orthodox Church of Ethiopia during the
Italian invasion. The legendary pop never
ceased to assist those who were fighting
for the nation`s freedom, with his prayers,
until at last he was shot dead on the same
spot that his statue stood now. Therefore,
for Ethiopians the statue signified
freedom and disapproval to tyranny in
flesh or spirit.
As the actions of this other monk started
attracting the attentions of many
passersby, he suddenly cut short his
dramatic performance and begun walking
toward the bars alongside the Aradaw
George church. He chose one among the
queue of bars and entered surreptitiously.
Though he gulped more than his usual
amount of liquor, he was not feeling
drunk, except that he had to pee
repeatedly. He then paid his bill and left
the bar holding tightly to this bag tucked
under his armpit. Only this time he did
not raise a fight, instead he kept his anger
to himself and left.
“Shame on you, Abba Diddimos!” he
kept on saying, repeatedly, as he walked to
the statue and back again, “From now on,
I want no one to call me Abba Diddimos!
No one! ... I am Ayalew Belayneh ...
Ayalew the brave! Ayalew, who grew up in
the wilderness like the monkeys! ...
Ayalew! Not Abba Diddimos. Go and
find your Abba somewhere else”! He said,
cursing continuously. He was feeling like
his bladder was about to burst.
As he reached the statue, he began
emptying his bladder on it. He cursed as
he did so, “I`m pissing on you. You stone
head!”
Nearby strangers took a moment to
pause and watch the daring scene in
astonishment.
“Stone head.... I am pissing on you ... see.
I am alive and well, but you ... you are
dead! You have become and remained a
stone. That is what you are! I told you to
give it up, hadn`t I? ..... You stone! Have I
told you the art of surviving tough times?
You did it deliberately! ...consciously...
there is nothing nobler than the wisdom
of surviving through tough times... I told
you. Do you think this bloodthirsty
country can change? It devoured upon
the blood of our heroic and wise leaders
who were yearning for change, just like
Tewodros, Gbereye, Menilik, Fasil &
Alemu, but she is not yet satisfied. It
crucified you but, change hasn`t come
yet.
Peter! I did tell you ... you did not listen.
Shame on me! If you were here today, I
could`ve been called…Pop Diddimos.
Then we would be the ones to decide the
fate of this country. We could have
changed it! But… you died! You chose to
die, against my word...patriarch of
Ethiopia.
This abbot of Daga Estefan wouldn`t let
me be even a parish priest. He gave it to
Abba Jenberu. If you were here,
hooligans wouldn`t have been dabbed
pops. This country`s precious secret that
we both knew, wouldn`t have been given
away to vagabonds. Damn you! But why?
You were already damned, you`ve became
a rock! Did you think what I wanted was
authority? Hell no! A papacy is petty
authority, and so is Patriarchy. You knew
this. We made a vow to do a great job for
this country, but you double-crossed me!”
He went on cursing, swearing, and calling
the statue- a stone.
“A stone!” a young passerby responded,
“He is not a stone!” he confronted him
with a sudden wild furiousness.
“He is a stone!” the monk replied with
equal fury. “A stone! That`s what he is!”
They leapt at each other with clenched
fists. The monk knew the angry young
man prior to this incident. He knew he
was a famous poet. He saw him before he
went into the bar. The poet was to attend
a meeting conducted in the city hall
situated on Arada George square.
His timing until the young man
adjourned his meeting, to his pissing on
the statue; his curse and their fight were
all proofs for the perfect trap he had set
and his successful prey.
Their fight continued with fury until at
last several of the spectators got between
them.
Tsegaye - the poet who had suddenly
became famous around the country -
went to his apartment still carrying the
temper boiling inside him. He knew he
could not sleep. The thought that a nation
does not care for, or even looked upon
freedom with contempt, was forcing him
to write something inspirational.
Something that will render worthwhile
the martyr patriarch`s and many others
sacrifices. He then wrote the famous play,
“Peter at that Hour” a legend - it was called
later. When he felt he was done with it, it
was past midnight.
Just then, he heard a knock on his door to
the room he was writing in. He opened it
in a state of trance that the day has
turned him to. As soon as he opened the
door wide, the monk who fought him a
few hours ago, came in not bothering to
ask for his permission. Now, fear came
over him suddenly that sent spasms along
his spine. He noted later on that the man
was here for a reason other than
commencing their fight.
The monk is now in a different mood, far
from any hostility. He went directly to the
desk Tsegaye was using for writing, and
going through his manuscripts, he even
said, “I`m proud of you!” which of
course added to the astonishment,
Tsegaye was going through.
He went on, “You haven`t seen it all, yet;
the world will honor you even before you
suspect it. Do not put down your pen.
This country has a nation, but only a
handful of wise men. You see, a guitar
with different strings cannot play a song,
unless its strings are tuned to produce a
composed melody. So is a nation with
different cultural and social makeup. This
nation needs wise composers who can
give it a sweet tone of harmony. The
country is now left with few composers as
good as King Tewodros & King Menilek,
who shall guide it towards prosperity and
original civilization. You cannot be those
people but, if you share their dreams, you
can even be better than them. And you
don`t need to be the emperor of
Ethiopia, to replace them.” he paused,
raised his brow and studied Tsegaye`s
eyes with scrutiny. Tsegaye did not reply,
except to stare at the monk with
astonishment.
He brought out a long scroll from his bag
made of animal skin, filled with strange
belongings. He spread the parchment on
the table. On the fading parchment, made
out of goatskin, a map drawn with red
ink could be seen. There were words
scribed in the ancient Ge`ez letters. On
the upper right side of the spacious page,
there was a Geez numeral written in
black, it read ፬፬፬, the equivalent of 4,4,4
in the Arabic numeral.
“Swear!” the monk told Tsegaye. “Swear
in the name of Ethiopia!” he repeated,
producing a Bible and searching its pages
until he reached a page where the map of
Ethiopia was drawn in red. Tsegaye put
his right palm face down on the bible
without a moment`s hesitation.
“Are you done with writing the play?” he
asked him, and sent his hand into the bag
made of animal skin in search of
something else.
“More or less ...”,Tsegaye replied.
“Good. And this is the poem you wrote
for the play!” said the monk. Then he
took the poem Tsegaye prepared for the
concluding part of “The passion of
Peter” play and begun reading it with a
thunderous voice. Tsegaye liked the way
he was reading it and wished that he too
were a poet.
After he read it until the last line, he said,
“Excellent! ...It is a marvel! I should get
the honor of shaking your hand!”
Tsegaye felt the crushing strength of his
hand on his, as the monk shacked him
vigorously, unable to contain his joy.
Tsegaye wondered if he would have
survived to write this play, had this man
gave him a serious blow during their
fight. Now everything was more apparent
to him. He picked the fight deliberately,
he thought.
“Good! Now things are changed! I
wanted to give you a task. Now you have
made it a lot easier. We can do it this
way...” He said, producing another
parchment made out of a goat skin, with
some words written upon it. “Jumble
these words together with the words of
the poem randomly, keeping their rhythm.
They will give your poem strength, and I
won`t even have to carry around this bag
any more …Do it! Spread out the words
randomly all over your poem!”
 The Passion of Peter

V_01. Oh why, Mother of Glory?

V_02. Why shall Ethiopia send you into
fury?
V_03. Why must you forsake your side so
righteous?
V_04. For how long shall you stay in
reluctance?
V_05. And deny her of your conscience?
V_06. Unforgiving to her trials and
mischief,
V_07. Ignore her sighs of relief?
V_08. Don`t you know she had no one
except yourself?
V_09. Europe`s plagued and unheard
voice,
V_10. By a fascistic cancer rotten into
decadence;
V_11. Its shoulders lean under a cruel
violence,
V_12. Trodden down by a Hitlerist
malignance,
V_13. As bulky as a mountain;
V_14. Bent its neck down,
V_15. Its soul tramped to submission,
V_16. Though it longed to look up and
see truth,
V_17. Europe has become a civilized
greedy filth.
V_18. And so virgin, lest I retreat in fear;
V_19. When the light of Your power
dimmed away from me,
V_20. Do not leave me Virgin Mary, ever;
V_21. Lest I abandon Ethiopia and think
no more of my promise.
V_22. For loneliness haunts me, yes I am
afraid,
V_23. I have no co corner to hide
V_24. And no heart to abide.
V_25. In fear of betraying her for good,
V_26. Incase my spirit absolved.
V_27. As I came fresh to this world,
V_28. My very first meal, I tasted,
V_29. In her womb, I came by and rested.
V_30. From her soil scrapped my bones,
V_31. Poured her blood into my veins,
V_32. Reaped my sweat from her brows.
V_33. Explored her with a baby`s feet so
slim,
V_34. Flown across it flapping my wings
 of dream,
V_35. My shepherds` days in her farm, I
lived,
V_36. By the sweat of her land;
V_37. With fowls and lambs I snuggled;
V_38. The shepherd`s square as the
summer;
V_39. The winter as the streaming river;
V_40. At the hall by the valley, under the
roof of clouds;
V_41. With the antelope, the partridge
and the grouse;
V_42. Caressing my body with their
 odors;
V_43. Holding on to an ivy rope,
V_44. to swing across the river;
V_45. Darting and swaying in air.
V_46. Sprinting the mole in a race,
V_47. Hide - and - seek with the fox;
V_48. Cut some grass under the hills,
V_49. A little meal for my milking cows,
V_50. A shelter for my calf to sleepin,
V_51. A dinner for the pair of oxen;
V_52. And some hay for their night-dine.
V_53. A fence for my lamb, away from
the wild-beast,
V_54. Under the farm to set a hut;
V_55. An oak shed for the sun;
V_56. A straw shed for the rain;
V_57. In search of a bees` hive all day;
V_58. As the roses, bud flowery;
V_59. When the meadow colorful in
green;
V_60. As they all wondered away to feast
it upon,
V_61. When the ripe crop swayed with
majest`,
V_62. And farm animals driven for the
harvest;
V_63. When I sped like the wind,
V_64. Upon the backs of horses so swift;
V_65. Mimicked melodies of the bird,
V_66. For my heart on the cosmos to
glide,
V_67. A flute that renders me avid.
V_68. That is what I call My Country,
V_69. Have you forsaken Her Mother of
Glory?
V_70. That childhood surprise,
V_71. The herald of innocence,
V_72. A time of joy and peace,
V_73. For longing and hope a reverence;
V_74. That mother of childhood,
V_75. O, your Tenderness how you could,
V_76. Face her with teeth so clenched?
V_77. While I took your name as mine,
V_78. To submit to your shrine,
V_79. Going past “House Of Melody”,
V_80. Stepping into Poetry,
V_81. For “Degua`s” house, I stood
sentry,
V_82. And To “House Of Books” All
the way;
V_83. My fate entwined with your fate,
V_84. My soul treading your path,
V_85. From “Qefefa” to “Deje-Selam”,
V_86. To the chapel from “Bethlehem”,
V_87. Fighting against nature`s tide,
V_88. For a coat, only a hide;
V_89. Verbalized local verbs, poetry to
create,
V_90. Incented the altar, to pray away the
night,
V_91. In his costume of papacy so vivid
 and bright,
V_92. A crown of silver to signify God`s
might.
V_93. Oh mother of Glory,
V_94. The seal of your ark branded with
fire upon my soul,
V_95. Even as I dined with in his hall,
V_96. When I was a disciple of the monk
Abba comfort,
V_97. My life bears your trust.
V_98. Kept my carnal will suppressed,
V_99. For your home in the city I stood
guard,
V_100. As a shade and a pillar,
V_101. I gave myself your name as an
honor,
V_102. A lantern of my faith - as You
were.
V_103. On pilgrimage to Geshen
Mariam, in celebration of your eve,
V_104. To Debre Libanos an honor for
your glory to give;
V_105. I lived through all these!
V_106. Only to blind your eyes upon my
deeds?!
V_107. It is you I lived to quench a thirst
I miss,
V_108. But you gave me a sit - St. Mark
the lion`s;
V_109. Now when I see Ethiopia falling
down under,
V_110. Before you leave me to the omen
of fear;
V_111. I would rather chose, for my eyes
to go blind,
V_112. For a vulture to pock them out
however sad,
V_113. Back then when I was still a
shepherd,
V_114. An eagle of the devil veiled in
darkness to descend.
V_115. Mother of God I plead you to set
a rein,
V_116. By the image of love it`s you I am
beggin`
V_117. Give me the diligence to share her
pain,
V_118. To taste the hemlock meant for
her poison,
V_119. To die her death, her body as
mine.
V_120. Yes, I am afraid for alones
haunted me,
V_121. I have no heart to abide.
V_122. Sometime as a child, when I
 watched in surprise,
V_123. A baby dove that hunger made so
powerless,
V_124. That famine drove out of its cage,
V_125. And flung it under a tree,
V_126. Its mother would hasten flying to
its rescue,
V_127. To warm it before its time was
due,
V_128. Breathing life upon its temple,
V_129. So little and so pure.
V_130. That is when it would revive,
V_131. Fluttering ready to fly and dive.
V_132. I want you too not to leave me
alone
V_133. O,Mother of Care breathe life
upon your son,
V_134. Breathe upon me Your strength,
V_135. If this chalice I`m to take a sip of
death,
V_136. Is sucking my soul short of
breath,
V_137. Let it pass over me and never
taste it at this moment,
V_138. Or snap away it`s ominous wings,
V_139. And force it break its promise.
V_140. If that can`t be done, bless me
with your merit,
V_141. And let me drink my share of the
covenant,
V_142. Let only be it,
V_143. As my will is your trust.
V_144. So that akin to Paul I persist,
V_145. Lest I become a prisoner of
fright,
V_146. So that my eyes won`t go blind,
V_147. By the lust inside me so wild,
V_148. So that I keep my word of the
promise,
V_149. And I won`t tarry for my daily
loss;
V_150. Let your word rest inside the
whole of my conscious
V_151. And your power upon my cells.
V_152. Even when fear swayed me,
V_153. It shall be no more if you`re here,
V_154. I shall find a corner to hide,
V_155. To cuddle away with your guide,
V_156. I shall find a place of patience,
V_157. Be it upon the tower of a splinter
of my cross.
V_158. Otherwise I`m alone and for
 Ethiopia only you are left,
V_159. So that I can endure her allow me
to tolerate,
V_160. Sublime me with faith - the
power,
V_161. To balance and match up to my
fear.
V_162. True that I`m afraid,
V_163. For loneliness has haunted me,
V_164. I have no corner to hide,
V_165. And no heart to abide.
“Marvelous! A brilliant poem! A brilliant
guy!” he said, kissing Tsegay`s forehead
passionately. “Let me warn you!” he
continued. “The poem should be kept
intact; no changes are to be made!
Absolutely no changes! This is a secret. If
you leave out even a single word out of
this poem, your good relations you have
with your country will be ruined. Ok…
do you intend to publish it?”
“That will be the will of God…”
“So mind what I told you! Don`t change
a single word! Some day this poem …” he
started, and the then tucking in his bag
the copy of the play he wrote on the
leather parchment, he gave Tsegaye a long
penetrating look. He closed his bag and
left Tsegaye unable to comprehend what
had happened and left the way he came
in.
Birds were already singing, announcing
the start of a new day. Tsegaye suddenly
came to his senses and followed him
running to the doorsteps. “Who shall I
call you? I want to meet you again …,” he
said, breathing heavily. The monk stopped
and turned around.
“You can call me with whatever name you
like. You and I will meet again only after
your book is published. Good bye!” he
replied and started walking again. Tsegaye
followed him with his eyes.
It was in 1975, five years after the
incident, that Tsegaye`s book of poems
entitled “Fire or flower” was published. The
day the book was checked into a
publishing agency, an unidentified monk
was seen in the printing agency`s camera
room. The monk came to the agency with
the business of getting information about
a book with the title `Axafos`, which was
supposed to get published. However, it
was later confirmed that his true mission
was to make sure, if the poem`The Passion
of Peter` was being printed along with the
other poems in the book. It was not
strange that a book by the title “Axafos”,
never made it to the publishers` desk.
Many years after the incident, in the year
2004, Tsegaye produced an audio
replication of collected poems with his
own voice. The prelude on the CD talks
about the reason why he wrote the poem.
It goes:-
“`The Passion of Peter` is a poem written
as a sequel for the play: - `Peter at That
Hour`. As the ancient historical theatre
writers like Eke ran, Ephrata…Euripides
used to say: -‘Save the final words to the
hero.’
Abuna Peter was violently assaulted all
night long - physically tortured and
interrogated. He was being forced by
Grazziani (an Italian army general) and
his compatriots to `Betray Ethiopia and
accept Mussolini – The fascist` who were
traitors to their country. The next
morning - July 28 1939 - he was sentenced
to death on the same square where his
statue now stood. Our own fellow
citizens fired the torrent of bullets that
ended his life; with a command from
Grazziani. Peter gave his life after
addressing his message that cursed the
land of Ethiopia - not to mention the
nation – never to submit to the tyranny
Fascism.
“The first time I came to Addis, I was a
child of fifteen years of age. I begged a
driver of a truck on his way from Ambo
to the capital, to take me with him. I was
planning to join the Kebur Zebegna
Cadet team. I got down from the truck at
the Pop Peter square on the heart of
Addis. As I remembered the life of Pop
Peter, as a shepherd and a heroic fighter, I
was left standing under the statue with
awe… Ten years after my arrival in Addis,
our boss the Ministry of
Communications called a meeting in the
City Hall by the square. We stayed late in
the evening at this office and at last the
meeting adjourned and we started to our
homes at around seven thirty in the
evening. Out on the street, I saw a
drunk…an angry monk peeing on the
Abun`s statue and swearing to the statue:
“You stone head! Your friends are driving
their comfortable Mercedes Benzes, while
you became and remained a stone. You
are now a stone, I`ll piss on you.” What
he was doing and saying sent my young
blood boiling. I couldn`t control my
temper, and I started a fight with the
drunk. “He is not a stone. He is not a
stone.” I said and I went into a fistfight
with him. People leaving the meeting hall
came between us, and I went to my
apartment still angry. I did not sleep all
night. I think I wanted to say,‘Peter is still
alive. Peter had not become a stone...’,
that I spent the entire night writing the
play - Peter at that hour.

As I said earlier these were the witnessing

words of Lauriat Tsegaye. Many
Ethiopians heard these words. People
who have read his book valued the
Lauriat, and so had those who didn`t…
Everyone knew about the Lauriat, but
nobody knew anything about the angry
drunk monk. The Lauriat`s speech says
something puzzling about this powerful
man, a drunk…an angry monk. The
phrase creates so many questions in one`s
mind. A drunk, but an angry monk! A
drunk, but who could fight back and hit
hard…and who wouldn`t fall with a fight! And,
guessing from his words, someone who
had a lot of knowledge about the Abun.
In addition, who could bebrave enough
to call someone so revered, astone head?…
weird, isn`t it?
However, the monk who denounced his
papacy – Diddimos did it. He was the one
who dared to pee on the statue. He was
the reason for the famous play to be
authored.
The play `The Passion of Peter` wouldn`t
have been composed if he hadn`t peed on
some statue - a symbol of national
freedom. The sweetly rhyming poem,
which was published, with the exact
words it had on that day, has 105 verses
and 497 words. However, the code behind
those 48 words remained a mystery even
to the Laurite until this day.
CHAPTER 1
CALIFORNIA, 2004
A few moments had elapsed since the
man in the recovery room - scientist and
engineer Shagiz Ejigu - regained his
consciousness. He opened his eyes. Slowly,
the blurred image of a man with a light
brown skin came to his vision. He had
never seen the man who was looking
down at him, in a doctor`s gown.
Guessing from his expression, he seemed
worried Shagiz thought.
“Welcome to the real world.” said the
doctor, smiling with an effort.
“It`s been a while since I woke up, but
thank you anyway for your welcoming
smile.” replied Shagiz, with partly closed
eyes.
“I`d like to thank you too, engineer
Shagiz. However, contrary to what you
just said, I knew I have not welcomed you
with a bright smile I was supposed to
show a recovering patient I treated. I
must apologize for my confused state of
mind. I believe; a doctor`s bright face and
smile has more healing effects on his
patients than his treatment. There is no
disease that is not cured by a bright look
and a loving smile!” the doctor explained.
The expression on his face could not
conceal the fact that his mind was filled
with many unanswered questions. A
noticeable look of puzzlement displayed
all over him.
It has been a very long time, since he
travelled to the United States of America
on a clandestine mission, as an agent for
the Ethiopian Secret Service. Now, every
fiber in his body is telling him, all he had
ever lived for is coming to an imminent
sad end. Armed men were surrounding
his apartment. They have already called
him on his phone demanding his
surrender.
His reply was unwaveringly determined,
“You will not have a single strand of my
hair, let alone capture me!”
Now, he can hear their whispering voices.
As the sound of their footsteps echoed
closer to his door, slowly but without a
hint of hesitation, he raised his gun,
aiming it at his temple.
“I`d rather be the first one to go.” he
said. “I shall not squeeze this trigger at
him.”

“You look like you`ve got my blood.”

Engineer Shagiz said. Ethiopians have a
way of easily recognizing each other on a
foreign land, a simple glance was enough.
Perhaps, something of their unique
culture has left a mark printed on their
faces, or it could only be their rare,
unevenly brown skin. “I guess you`re
from the land of Habesha.”
“Exactly!” said the doctor, lighting up his
auburn face with a knowing smile.” My
name is Doctor Mirage.”, he was going
through many papers he was holding in
his hand. “I`ve been in the US for a long
time. However, it has only been a while
since I started working in this hospital. In
this short time, I was able to understand
only a few facts about your medical
condition.”
He sat on the blue plastic chair along the
side of the bed, still studying the papers
that held clinical information describing
the engineer`s state of health. The
engineer wondered if the time has come
for the bundle of questions in the
doctor`s puzzle mind, to take the shapes
of words.
“Engineer Shagiz ...” he paused. “As I`ve
recently gathered from a classified
document; you`ve gone through a lot of
heart surgery in the past.” said Mirage,
sliding his long fingers on his foreheads.
“Because of your heart failure, you were
obliged to make repeated heart surgeries
since 1977. And, from that time on,
you`ve been on a regular schedule for a
heart surgery thatshould be performed
every two months. Your medical schedule
also included an appointment with your
doctor that you are not to miss every two
weeks…which demanded your diligence!”
exclaimed the doctor shaking his head
with an emotion that he himself can`t
figure out.
“Do you mind telling me who you really
are?” Shagiz asked, watching him with a
fixed gaze. “How did they allow you to
treat me?”
“True... I have never treated you before.
However, I used to keep track of your
condition. I have been waiting for this
moment eagerly, to share you the
information I have stumbled upon_ I was
not alone when I performed this surgery.
I did it with other doctors. Dr Luke
Khan, who was supposed to be your head
sergeant, was transferred to some other
hospital due to unknown reasons. Since I
was on duty at the time, I was made to
replace him. Definitely, you do not know
who I am until today, but now we are
getting to know each other.
“I took on the task of following up your
medical condition, not only because it is
my civil responsibility, but also what my
professional duty as well as my conscience
requires of me.” He paused and took a
deep breath. “It would`ve been surprising
if I never heard of you, not the reverse.
Surely, your name has been strange
among Ethiopians, until recently. Only
the civilized world knows who you really
are. I managed to collect some
information about your profile from the
media and through the inquiries that I
made. Therefore, I knew that you are one
of the greatest scientists the world has
ever had in the field of space research. By
the way, I want you to know that I`m
proud of you. I should be! Your country
should be proud of you too. It`s not very
easy to find a successful as well as famous
Ethiopian space scientist. You are a
priceless jewel to your country. It would
have coasted this poor country billions of
dollars to train a scientist like you. The
single-handed effort and perseverance you
have demonstrated in order to achieve it
shall always remain a lesson to your
fellowmen. Your journey, which begun
with a poly-technique diploma and has
elevated you to the heights of becoming a
scientist of unmatched importance, will
go on inspiring them. Your enduring
journey to your destination fills their
hearts with enthusiasm. You`ve absolutely
succeeded in proving to the world, that
Africans are not only people who fought
for their freedom but, they are also
people with the brilliance of intellect
capable of being trained and nurtured to
the highest possible level of intelligence,
if and when they have the opportunity.”
“Do you have the document with you?”
the engineer asked, completely
overwhelmed with admiration by the
doctor`s speech. He was also amazed with
the possibility that, this man may have
uncovered something he`d already gave
up trying.
“It is not complete; it has missing parts.”
replied Dr. Mirage a little sadly.
“What about the part you`ve with you?”
asked Shagiz , with an eagerness that was
tempting to sit up in spite of all the wires
and gadgets attached to his body Instead,
he waited for the doctors` reply with
widely opened blazing eyes.
Doctor Mirage seemed nervous; he was
continuously looking towards the door
repeatedly.
“Yes, I have it with me, but there is one
thing __,” said Mirage, flapping the
papers in his hands. His expression
contorted under the shadow of an
ominous grimace.
“Yes, I know what you`ve in mind, but
what I want to find out now is about
what you brought to light. What you
uncovered.” Shagiz interrupted, moving
up his brows with a questioning attitude.
“The matter is unclear and much
complicated to easily understand. The
report on the document does not exactly
state. About your hearts however, I have a
good reason to suspect there is something
baffling about your first surgery. What I
witnessed during this last surgery and ...I
mean what was done and what the report
talks about were completely different.
COMPLETLY!” he became nervous
again.
“I went to the medical director and raised
the issue to him. Can you believe what
reply I got? …They told me to mind my
own business. They even gave me a
warning to back off. If I pursue the
investigation any further, I am to be
expelled from the hospital without any
ultimatum, within hours. But, I`m the
kind of man who loves living in
adventures. So, even if you don`t care, I`ll
never stop pursing it. I know the US
needs you, and you are a key personality
to the States. But it doesn`t have to be
this way. It is a great crime to put your
freedom and human rights under
jeopardy. The surgery was a unique one
which can`t be conducted in any other
country except the United States.” said
doctor Mirage, trying to find the right
words to explain the circumstances, with
what he thought was their true picture.
“I`m aware of that. Isn`t it because my
condition cannot be treated outside this
country, that I remained a prisoner here?”
Shagiz said, with a tone of voice that
betrayed his frustration.
You better tell me if there is a secret
you`ve uncovered. I need your help. I`m
ready to pay you whatever amount you
ask.” Shagiz was now pleading him.
“This matter concerns me too. You are a
man of unique importance to your
country. Helping you means getting the
chance to help my country for the first
time. But, how can I do it? I am afraid; it
is a matter of utmost confidentiality. I
would be very glad to support you, with
God`s help.” after saying this, Mirage
took off his white ivory-rimmed glasses.
He sent his hand into one of the pockets
on his white gown, brought out a white
handkerchief, which he used to wipe the
underside of his eyes. He then stood up
from the plastic chair, went towards the
table and started punching the keys on his
laptop with an amazing dexterity of his
fingers.
Engineer Shagiz followed doctor
Mirage`s actions with curious eyes and
raised eyebrows. His mind suddenly went
back to this prestigious but troublesome
life filled with his achievements.
Among famous American space scientists
who were said to have brought space
research under their control, Engineer
Shagiz was one of the most important
personalities to achieve special
recognition in the American Space
Technology Society, because of his
exceptional contribution to the American
space research institute - National
Aeronautics and Space Administration
(NASA). All before his fortieth birth day.
When he was working as a space Design
Engineer in the NASA, he has designed
two space shuttles, along with the Apollo
astronaut Buzz Aldine, who was the
second man to reach the moon. He has
also contributed a great deal as a leading
man in the special group of scientists
who were studying Jupiter and Saturn in
search of a habitable planet for future
powerful nations and Americans to live
on. Now he is engaged on a research,
studying the earth`s internal and surface
natural resources. He is also one of the
leading scientists with a profound
knowledge about satellite and radar
technology.
This man of brilliance, had the honor of
accepting an award only very few were
entitled to - from the hands of an
American president, for his outstanding
achievements since he came to the United
States. Due to the highly classified
technological secrets he was harboring
and the accesses he had to sophisticated
scientific laboratories, he was under a
strict watch at all times. Once, the CIA
gave him the clearance to visit his
country, only after they went to Ethiopia
prior to his flight and took care of every
possible security breach. It was said that,
the protection he was getting in his own
country exceeded the protection provided
to other overseas American diplomats.
And he only knew that he was given a
medical treatment to last him only a few
days, so that he can`t prolong his stay in
Ethiopia for more than the period he was
allowed to. That was the reason for his
quick return. In addition to the fully
armed men employed to provide him
protection openly, there were other CIA
men hovering all around him in civilian
clothes. They went wherever he went, in
order to insure his protection. These
secure men and women were not only
protecting an important space scientist,
they were also protecting the top
technological secrets of the US America.
A lot of countries including china, Japan,
Iran, India, Pakistan, South Korea, Israel
and Russia had the deepest of desires and
the fattest wallets to make this man work
for them and even made him proposal in
secret . Israel, realizing the
communication he made with these
countries, begun pairing up its secret
agency with its American counterpart, in
order to force him away from the hands
of other countries -especially Arab
nations. But, except his own country,
almost all other countries were trying to
snatch him away from the strong jaws of
the powerful nation .

It had been three days since his apartment

was surrounded. He has nowhere to go.
He was still aiming the gun on his head,
when he heard a knock on his door.
“My executioners are here!” he said,
talking to himself.
As an immediate man next to the
engineer, he had kept the matter in his
own hands until this time. However, since
the end of the fast meeting, two other
men were assigned to watch him. His
ideas on that meeting created a division
among the participants. One side favored
the idea of keeping the engineer as the
leader of the opposition political party,
and another side voted for his removal.
Since that event, he became the pursued.
He kept eluding his predators, by moving
from state to state in an unpredictable
ways, carrying the information and
documents with him. Three days ago, he
was arrested in California, as if he had
run out of his illusions.
Just as he heard them breaking in through
the doors and windows, he quickly
lowered his gun to his side and started
setting his documents on fire. Smog filled
the room. He went on to destroy the
audio and video information on CDs and
tapes, crushing them with his hands and
under his feet. At last, he wrote
something down on a piece of paper and
left it where it could be found easily,
before aiming his gun back again on his
head. This time he had no second
thoughts…a bang… and it was all over.

Shagiz`s accentuated interest in the

internal mechanisms of electronic devices
begun at an early age. When he was a
child, he stayed with an Italian family,
who remained in Ethiopia to start an
electronics shop. Just after he completed
his high school studies, he joined the
Bahir Dar Poly-Technique Institute to
study Agricultural Technology. He graduated
with honors, scoring the second highest
grade in the history of the institute.
Later on, he served as the Technical
counseling manager of the Ethiopian
Automotive services company for two
years. In 1972 he traveled to Japan, to
peruse a free scholarship he was given.
There he studied Industry and
Automotive engineering in Hiroshima
University. He never hesitated to study
Japanese, so that he could understand
their technological supremacy originally
using their own ways of thinking. He
then made his way straight to the United
States, eager to make his dream about
taking part in Space Research, true.
America knew better than to think twice
about welcoming the man from Japan
with open arms. He stayed for a few years
waiting, working for some Aero - Space
companies, when in 1977 he joined
NASA.
During his stay in NASA, he took on the
task of Space Craft System Design - a
field concerned with the duties of
designing, constructing, assembling,
testing, and launching of a space vehicle.
It was at this exact time that his
reputation as a science genius went as far
out as Europe. The European Space
Agency also owes a lot to this man.
He is the sole owner of a patent for, the
so-called `Next Generation` Global
Positioning Satellite System and a hi-tech
flight simulator used in the space systems
design department of NASA. In addition
to these, he has served on the
development of the defense system
technology called Star Wars, leading the
group of scientists and engineers.
His three children were born from his
American wife. It was an unsuccessful
marriage, which ended him on a lawsuit
for the custody of his children.
Astonishingly, he`d gone to law school,
just to defend his lawful rights as a father.
Many had said at the time, `Shagiz could be
the only man who went to college every time he
was faced with a problem.` which, by the way,
was not a farfetched conclusion for, he
graduated with a doctorate degree in
space systems and Aeronautical
Engineering and has a master`s degree in
Business Administration.
Scientist and Engineer, Shagiz Ejigu was
able to attain all the exceptional stardom
and expertise in a very short time since he
joined the NASA in 1977. Unfortunately,
shortly after, he was diagnosed with a
severe heart condition. From that time
on, he has been on a continuous heart
surgery. What creates so high a curiosity
was the reality that even he was unaware
of the true motives behind these periodic
medical treatments, which were extreme
in nature.
He often told his friends that, he could`ve
been the first black man ever to set foot
on the moon, had his poor heart allowed
him to fly more than a limited altitude
above the surface of the earth.
These days, he was sparing his attention
to Africa, trying to bring - especially
Ethiopia - out of poverty, by integrating
the efforts of other academically and
economically capable Ethiopians into
using the latent natural resources of the
country. There were some, who
speculated that, if he returned to his
native poverty-stricken country, the
American Government would not have
the guarantee of keeping him only to
itself. Perhaps this is the reason why the
routine investigations conducted on him
had toughened. Even Israel has
heightened its security measures not to
lose the man to the hands of countries
with anti – US, or anti – Israel stance,
including most Arab countries.
One may wonder, why a single man`s
importance should this much be inflated!
The man is a man with a brain like a key,
who could engage or disengage any of the
satellites, radars, or communication
systems in our world or in outer space,
whenever he desired, just with a clique on
his laptop, sitting on a beach in the
Bahamas. That is why. Imagine what
could happen, if he gets in the mood of
shutting down any one of the “Black
Boxes” - Anti Missile Scanner Satellite
Systems - code named SAMOS, or other
satellites capable of collecting more
information than 50,000 solders could
gather within a year by revolving every 90
minutes around the earth.
More than anything, he knew if he gave
away any of the information in his mind,
in any way to their enemies, the ultimate
existences of the two powerful nations
would get into a big question mark. Any
leak in information could be enough to
transform part of the States of America
or Israel into unrecoverable wreck, using
just a cheap terrorist missile, let alone
with any army and bomb loaded jet
attack. The Government of America
knows what the consequences would be
that it can`t afford to let him be in a
situation which left him vulnerable to let
the cat out of the bag. That was the
reason, for his permanent stay in the
states or his inability to stay away for
more than two months. Yes, it was
because of his bad heart!
Doctor Mirage spent some time
consulting his computer and walked back
to sit near the side of Shagiz`s bed. This
time, he drew his chair very close to the
bed. Shagiz watched him, guessing that he
came up with a solution.
“Leave it to me. I want you to give me
time. I`ll give you an update of what I`m
up to. The matter needs an intensive
research and time. We must know this
secret from its source.” said Mirage
resting one finger on his lips.
“But it must be done quickly. If my heart
condition deteriorated...” his mind
suddenly went home.... to Africa... into
Ethiopia.
“There is one other thing that is puzzling
me,” said doctor Mirage and came to his
feet. He was in a deep thoughtful state of
mind, still holding his finger to his lip.
“Have you ever closely observed the
tattoo on your back?”
“A tattoo...?”
“Yes...” doctor Mirage replied. “If I`m
right, you have a tattoo with writing on it
that says: DERTOGADA.”
“It was tattooed on me when I was
younger.” Shagiz answered, recalling
childhood days.
“Who made the tattoo on you?”
“What was his name? Ah...Yes. It was
Chief Ayalew! Yea, I remembered Chief
Ayalew.”
“Who is this chief Ayalew?” Mirage asked
eagerly.
“I know him from Bonga, when I used to
live there during my childhood. Bonga is
a county in Kefa - a region in Ethiopia.”
Shagiz said, trying to picture old Chief
Ayalew in his mind.
“I remember when chief Ayalew first
came to the town. He was a brilliant
storyteller and had a good knowledge of
history. He told me more tells than my
own father did. He knew details of the
conditions at the time of the Italian
invasion of Ethiopia. He told me that, he
fought against the enemy as an inside
man, by joining the Italian army. After the
Italian army was defeated and left the
country, he came to Bonga following the
arrival of the king. Nobody knew the real
reason why he came to Bonga. But
according to him, he came to Bonga to
visit his son Diola, who was living with
an Italian family staying behind in
Ethiopia. He used to hide whenever he
saw an Italian. His relation with his son
was not very intimate, so he used to
spend much of his time with me. He
loved telling stories. Healso liked me, not
only because I listened to him, but also
because I brought him news about his
son every day. I was close to the Italians
and even spent a lot of time in their
electronics shop. The stories he told me
were so much like the stories my father
used to tell me. My father was a solder
known for his bravery and heroic
adventures during the war. How I loved
to hear those stories!
Chief Ayalew was a highly educated man.
He was educated in the local academy,
which has its base in spiritualism and the
art of words. His knowledge was a
profound one. In fact, he tried to
convince me into joining the local
academy. He was the reason for my habit
of reading the bible, and who taught me
how to ask God for guidance before my
every single actions. He also learned the
art of hand - crafts from Italian
craftsmen.” It was easy to see that,
Shagiz`s love for this man was very deep.
“So why make the tattoo on you?”
“He said that, it was a highly valuable
thing in my life. It was something he
wanted to do for his son, but since he was
not that intimate with his son, he did it
for me instead. I was a student at the time
and I guessed it was something that will
make my mind brighter, cleverer.”
“Didn`t he tell you it`s meaning?”
“It`s meaning ...” he tried to bring back
his memories of Chief Ayalew, “...he had
so many words of wisdom. He did tell
him the meaning. However, his attention
had been on the talisman, not on its
meaning. He thought it was a talisman to
make him a genius...”
“What does `DERTOGADA` mean?” he
had asked Chief Ayalew once.
The chief smiled at him and said, “That`s
good my son. Good. Asking makes one
wise. You are a brilliant boy! If you have
ever noticed ants crossing a pool of
water, first they make an ant bridge by
chaining themselves with each other on
the surface of the water. On this bridge
of ants, an army of other ants can march
across the pool. They cross the pool of
water - which for them is a fierce river -
leaning on each other; holding on to each
other. They couldn`t have made it in any
other way. A drop of rain may seem like
an ocean for a single ant, but when ants
are chained to each other, they could even
cross a real ocean. So `DERTOGADA`
means...” he retold him the chief`s reply.
Just at that point, he suddenly no longer
wished to tell him the rest. The rest was
something only he wanted to know.
“I guess I wasn`t listening attentively
when he was telling me the meaning. My
attention...you see...I thought it was a
talisman to make me score good grades.
At the time, I was eager to know and
understand many things. I was a very
curious lad. So my greatest desire was
learning. For many years, I`ve accepted
the tattoo as a genius maker. My belief
that a special kind of power was working
in my brain had indeed heightened my
self-confidence. I had enough belief upon
myself to make me say that I`m capable
of doing anything. I guess my belief that,
there is some kind of power within me
has helped to make my academic career a
success. Without exaggerating, the truth
that I was able to become head of a
scientists group to study the planets -
Saturn … Earth ... Mars and Jupiter,
beginning with a Bahir - Dar poly
technique diploma is an achievement not
to be taken lightly. What`s more, I had a
highly developed psychology.”
“Do you still believe in this power?”
doctor Mirage asked in amazement.
“At this time I can`t have a belief or a
disbelief in it. I do not have the chance to
do any scientific research on the field.
And, it is unscientific to say in absolution
that the matter is not factual. I proved
nothing until now. But, the psychological
influence on me hadn`t been easy. “
Shagiz never gave the tattoo on his back a
lot of attention since the 1970`s, because
it was found on the most inconvenient
place on his body - that needed the help
of a mirror even to look at it. However,
to say that he had forgotten about it
would be far from the truth.
He often concealed the tattoo from
anyone`s view, to escape a possible
backbite, `…no wonder he is a genius! He`s
got a voodoo tattoo on his back! ` But in spite
of the possibility, he sometimes thought,
I`m a naturally brilliant genius. The tattoo may
sure have given me special powers. But it can
never be satanic. How could the devil bless me
with knowledge? If Satan is not against human
resurrection and civilization, then who else shall
be. If there is a devil that can make a genius out
of men and develop their memorizing power,
then how could he be my enemy? Never! It
cannot be. Rather, wisdom is from God! And,
God blesses with wisdom those who seek
wisdom. Chief Ayalew was a man with the fear
of God. If the chief were a friend of Satan,
then we would all have belonged to Satan. We
would have all been doomed. When men become
incapable of wisdom, they conspire against wise
men. They label them with seemingly unclean
names. They call them magicians and witches.
While the wise men of our land were being
patronized as magicians, the witty French
researchers studied our books of wisdom in their
laboratories, to collect their PhDs as the fruit of
their work. When a man begins to be deaf and
ignorant, he calls his ears an extra, disposable
part of him. But, man is a complete being just
by himself, with no disposable faculties. God did
not create me to be ignorant. Even if the chief
never blessed me with his genius-making tattoo, I
will always be a genius, because I was created a
genius. He did it because of only one reason -
his love for me. Men of ignorance are all -
criticizing and talkative. Talkative! he
reflected whenever he thought about the
tattoo. Then he would say in curiosity,
But, what could it be?
Dr Mirage saw the tattoo on the back of
the engineer for the first time, during the
surgery. He was filled with a peculiar
emotion at the time. It was a minute
before getting ready for the surgery which
had taken a very long time that he found
out about the tattoo, while turning
Shagiz`s body on the operating table. He
went on thinking about the tattoo even
after the surgery. He was waiting
impatiently for the engineer to regain his
consciousness and ask him about it. He
had hoped to get a reply for all the
questions that were troubling him. The
age long tattoo even though a little faded,
could be seen clearly.
The letter `ቶ` in the word
DERTOGADA “ዴርቶጋዳ” was drawn in
the shape of a cross with a bulging tip.
There were found three numbers written
with tiny letters inside the ring this letter
created at its top. On the top - 544 95 106
2933 775 30456 527 332፬፬፬995 followed by
another word which read Orea Ethiopia
written with a similar small sized letters.
Moreover, at the bottom of the ring
additional set of numbers could be seen: -
98123 96 1067 40567 88123456. On the
horizontal tips of the cross in the shapes
of flower buds, additional two phrases
with rather confusing meanings were
written “appointment word” and “bitter
wing”. The pairs of numbers were written
as the second a subscript of the first. At
the bottom of the cross, which had the
shape of an anchor, the same word
“ዴርቶጋዳ” is seen inscribed.
“Are you telling me that you don`t know
the meanings of the words?” asked
Mirage in disbelief. “In ancient times
scare - crews and shepherds sit at the side
of their cultivations during the reasons
of harvest, to protect the ripening fruit
from being a feast for a flock of birds. To
do this, they used swirling catapults from
which they launched a stone toward the
birds engaged on an indecent act of
destroying the good harvest. However,
just before throwing the stone the
shepherds raise their voice to the bird
that was on a mission of destruction and
command it: `Orea!` Then they would
hurl the stone at the bird that ignored
their command. They break its wing as a
punishment to its ignorance. So, the
phrase `Orea Ethiopia` is an expression
used to express warning, with an
equivalent meaning of, `Rise and flee
away, Locusts of Ethiopia!` In addition,
`Maher Shalal Hash Baz ...` is from the
old-testament to mean `The Spoil
Speedeth; the Prey Hasteth.` Thus, `Orea
Ethiopia...Maher Shalal Hash
Baz!`...means, `Locusts of Ethiopia,
Rise and Flee away! The Spoil
Speedeth; the Prey Hasteth.`... Why
was it tattooed on my back? My answer is
that I have no idea. But, why are you
giving it this much attention? Why should
my fading tattoo interest you while you
live in America, where there are
thousands of people who`s got colorful
tattoos much more colorful than mine?”
he said, concluding his answer with a
question.
“That`s what surprised me!” answered the
doctor. “On my back I`ve got the same
kind of tattoo you`ve on yours! See!” he
took off his gown and shirt and turned
his back to him. Shagiz unbelievingly
stared at the tattoo on the doctor`s back,
which was a carbon copy of his tattoo.
He could read the same words:
Dertogada...Oria Ethiopia...
Maher Shalal Hash Baz!

“How could we`ve the exact same thing?”

“Do we know each other in the past?”
asked engineer Shagiz.
“Not at all! Forget being intimate enough
to have any secrets in common, we`ve
never even met before. Impossible! We
lived in two different worlds. I told you
that, all the knowledge I have about you
came from what I read and heard. I saw
you for the first time when I was doing
this surgery a few days ago. Other than
this, there was no way you and I could
know each other. Absolutely not! No
way!”
“Where were you born and raised?”
“I don`t know where I was born. But I
was raised on an island situated on Lake
Tana, in Ethiopia.”
“Lake Tana...which island?”
“It was on the Island of Kibran. I grew
up on the pair of islands called Kibran
and Entons, a few Kilometers away from
the city of Bahr Dar. I spent my
childhood until my adolescence on
Entons Island, which is a convent for
women only, and after that on Kibran
Island - a monastery for men only. That is
where I grew up, and you grew up in
Kefa! ...So... our intimacy would be even
geographically impossible!” said doctor
Mirage.
Suddenly the door was hurled open and
three men impolitely forced their way in.
Two of them wore doctors` gowns; the
other man had nothing particular to
identify him.
“The director wants to talk to you
immediately, doctor Mirage!” one of the
doctors told Mirage, “Immediately!”
The stranger went towards the table
where Mirage had placed the medical
records of the engineer, and then he
baldly gathered up the papers, closed the
laptop and started to walk to the door
taking everything with him. Mirage acted
quickly following his instincts. He took
him by the collar and pulled him violently
with such force that sent him along with
the documents and the laptop scattering
and crashing to the floor. The man did
not seem bothered from his fall as he
recovered himself quickly, smiling.
“It`s been awhile since you crossedthe red
line.” He took out a gun and stuck it
directly on Mirage`s temple. “Move…
Stupid!”

The door flung open and they rushed in.

He pulled the trigger. The wall behind the
chair he was sitting in was splattered with
his blood. They looked at the body of the
security man who has taken his own life
in rage. Coughing and straining their eyes
to look beyond the smoke filled room,
they fired whole rounds on the dead body
creating more than a dozen holes on it.
One of the security men kicked
everything on his way in anger, while the
other one laughed in frustration taking a
handful of the ash - the remains of
burned documents. He had burnt
everything, except a message he had
written at the last moment, on a piece of
paper. Both agents stared at the hand
written single word. “DERTOGADA!”
They looked at each other, “What?”
Just before Miraje left for the director`s
office he gave Shagiz one long last gaze in
sadness. Shagiz seemed to want to tell
him something. The medical director was
listening to every word the two had been
talking using an intelligent electronic
translator, which he switched off just
before Mirage came into his office.
Without saying a word, he picked up a
paper from his desk and handed it to
Mirage. It said that he was fired.
“Why?” Mirage demanded.
“Leave me alone now, I`m busy!” The
doctor replied harshly.
 CHAPTER 2

Tel Aviv

Israel

“Your circumcision must have cost a

fortune, right?” he said closing in on her
with viciously narrowing eyes. He had
begged to get inside her for the
hundredth and one time. She never gave
him the clearance.
“Don`t come any closer!” she told him,
with a blaze of rage.
“God would`ve given me thirty wives just
like you and added eighty mistresses, if
I`ve begged him the way I begged you.”
still coming closer to her.
“Don`t come any closer!” she roared at
him again, backing away. He shook his
huge head on his lanky skeletal neck, until
it seemed that his head was about to leave
its natural place and fly away.
He closed in on her with eyes narrowing
more and more. She could`ve splashed
the glass of water in her hands on his
face, to make him leave her. However, it
was her apartment. Also, there was a task
that they were supposed to do together.
“I told you a million times! You better
not waste your time for nothing.” She
paused, sipped from the glass, and
swallowed it down with the lump in her
throat. She was holding back her anger.
He wet his lips, eyes fixed on her tight
breasts positioned close to each other.
They took the shape of the two most
beautiful, symmetrically curving
mountains in the whole of creation. At
least that is what they seemed to him. He
thanked the angel who had awakened and
guided him here, in time to watch her
half-naked body he adored so much, with
only the thin blouse to cover it.
He looked down as if in sorrow, his huge
head dangling like a lose bell from his
thin neck. Only to raise it up again slowly
scanning the whole of her body with his
blood-stricken eyes that seemed to have
the power of penetration and touch. They
went past her toenails that glitter with a
golden light.
He moved his eyes up following the
outline of her legs beneath the
transparent white night gown, sucking in
every detail of the sensual body.
Suddenly, the voluptuous front of her
closely curving thighs opened into the
heart of a magnificently carved V-shaped
cleavage. They seemed to beckon him
with their sweet arousing song-
whispering to him; come and get in between
our hot softness, there is something special hidden
deep inside us. The wide hips lie
commandingly under her slender waist at
the sides of a very smooth abdomen. His
eyes slide up along her cute belly button
outlining the centre of her belly, back to
her breasts that made him lose control
every time he looked at them. His journey
ended, at the sight of a cross in the shape
of a sign: “ቶ” that she wore around her
neck on a chain.
She was following his every move. Now,
as she realized he was about to complete
his tour, she smiled allowing him all the
time in the hope that he might indulge
himself enough from the incredible
beauty her body of. He could not ignore
the whiteness of her leveled killer teeth
without an effort, before her sexually
magnetic eyes commanded him to a halt.
She seemed like a super natural creature
he had never seen. Before he could realize
what he was doing, his lips aimed at hers
only to find the side of her jaw as she
turned away from him. She responded to
his improper act by sending him
staggering backwards with a blinding
blow to his face using the back of her
hand.
He was determined to taste the blessings
he was dying for in between her legs, or
even force her into giving it to him.
However, her fierceness could not let him
be a match for her.
Zipporah was her name; her friends in
Moss ad call her, “The Cheetah.”
He was the one who had recruited her as
an agent for Moss ad and who conducted
her medical checkup. More than anything
else about her, it was her beauty made
him a captive. Ever since then, he has
been trying to make her and her beauty
his captives.
Speaking of captives, today they have a
trap to set together for someone who was
supposed to be unfortunate enough to
fall in their trap. Then, the two Jews must
hand over the subject to Israel, in one
piece. That was their mission.
Zipporah first saw Anania during
“Operation Moses” - a successful
operation Israel carried out, to migrate
Ethiopian Jews out of Ethiopia through
the Sudanese border, illegally.
Dr. Anania never gave a moment`s
thought about having a satisfying
personal and love life. He began working
for the Medical Section in Moss ad as an
agent as well as a researcher, at early age.
He grew up singing the song of Zionism.
Judaism has always been moving in his
veins. His patriotic feelings grew to such
heights that he never concluded a speech
without the phrase “Viva Israel!” as his
inevitable final words. He had no doubt
whatsoever that she will be his and only
his goddess. Especially now at the peak
of his desire, her ever blossoming
feminine charm was making him restless.
Now, he slowly turned his huge head back
to her, indifferent to the humiliation that
her blow created on him. She cut him
short, just as he was trying to regain his
composure so that he could start pleading
all over again.
“…Anania! You and I, have nothing in
common, except the patriotic mission we
are assigned to execute together. And, you
know I can do it only by myself. Even
without your help. Believe me! I will
apprehend engineer Shagiz to Israel,
whatever the sacrifice I must pay. You
have completed the initial and important
part of the mission. Leave the rest to
me.” She said, excluding him out of the
mission.
Nevertheless, he was not a man to be
intimidated that easily. He was
determined to make her his, by taking the
advantage of working on the same
mission with her. He is by nature too
ambitious. He will go on fighting, until at
last she is in his hands.
Grabbing his hand, she led him to an
adjoining room filled with photographs
and maps in all shapes and sizes. She
pointed to a big photo among several
others hanging from the wall. On a
background of blue expanse of a lake, he
could look at the pair of islands, outlined
symmetrically as if they are bosoms of a
young woman.
“These two islands are situated in
Ethiopia on Lake Tana. They are named,
Kibran and Entons. We spent all our
childhood on these lands. I grew up on
Entons a women-only monastery,” she
looked at him with a trace of smile. “And
he… he grew up on Kibran, a men-only
monastery.” she said, her eyes fixed at the
picture of the two islands. Her thought
hastened back in time against her will, to
a far way past memory. “He is the love of
my childhood. He shall stay in my
memory forever. He shall be born with
me, even if I die and given the luxury of
reincarnation. Mi…Ra…! Mirage!” she
said with a sigh.
She was unable to control the scenes that
were now being recreated in her memory
so quickly. Her mind took her on a
journey from Tel-Aviv past the Red-Sea
… across the central terrain of Ethiopia,
to a special place at the heart of Lake
Tana. The two islands...

There are around 40 islands on Tana. On

about 20 of these islands, age-old
monasteries and churches loaded with
lots of priceless ancient manuscripts and
antiques could be located. However, the
remaining halves were uninhibited with
no single soul other than birds to visit
them. The two islands in Zipporah`s
memory were in reality found at North
West of Bahir-Dar in Africa. Both are full
of peculiar high lands and hills, covered
with tightly stretching natural forests that
gave the sun`s rays a hard time reaching
the ground. The expanse of water
between the pair of islands runs only a
couple of hundred meters. To attend to
the ceremonies and services on the
nunnery, male monks from Kibran must
travel to Entons. However, as it was
customary anywhere in the world for
women to fight for their rights, here also,
no one at Kibran needed the services of
the nuns. There existed a law that strictly
forbade all nuns to set foot on Kibran. At
the entrance to the island, a sign stood
written in black with the words:
Females are not allowed to pass through.
However, Zipporah had an unfinished
business that will take her to the island,
despite the sign. She still yearned to be
with the love of her life. Though she
could never go in flesh and blood, she
always sent her heart and her dreams
there. Since the instant she fell in love
with Mirage the sight of that island
beyond the waters nowadays seemed to
fill her heart with love and a strong
longing of being there. She would
sometimes wonder: - why wouldn`t they want
me to go there? Do they not know I grew up in
chastity under their own eyes! Why must they
prevent me as they do to the other women? …
But they allowed me to do everything I don`t
want! …Oh my poor heart! But why must it
always desire something forbidden from it! It
would have been better if they told me the truth!
Now, they are making me want it more. It
amazes me to think that all I want is found
hidden in things forbidden! – in
contemplation with herself whenever she
was alone.
Zipporah was only three, when she first
came to the monastery. It was Abba
Finhass from the distant islanded
monastery by the name Daga Estefan`s,
who brought her to this island and
entrusted her to the nuns. Abba Finhass`s
word about the identity of the child was
that he found her, after her unknown
parents had forsaken her. But there were
rumors about him being her father.
Indeed, as she got older, a startling
resemblance with Abba Finhass began
showing up, as a witness that nature never
lies.
At the time when Zipporah joined the
monastery, there was a boy two years
older than she was, under the care of the
nuns was. The monastic society held a
meeting to decide if they should be raised
together. It was voted in favor, with the
reason that it will nourish their
psychology and enable them to pass
through a normal period of child hood.
That was how their bond was created.
Just like hers, the boy also had no identity.
Another monk that goes by the name
Abba Jemberu told the nuns that the
baby was crying at the side of a road
alone, with no one to claim him.
“It doesn`t matter where he came from,
as long as he is a human being.” the head
nun Reverend Mother Welete Kiros had
said, at the time “God has already created
him. It does not matter if he was born in
sin or marriage; the criminals are his
parents who had forsaken him, not he.
When God called him to live in his
house, where else could we send him
back?” then she took him in her arms.
Reverend Mother Welete Kiros never left
the baby out of her arms whenever she
recited her daily prayers. Mirage`s
attachment with the nun grew to the
point of clinging to her robe reluctantly,
whenever she left him alone so that she
can occupy herself with something
desiring her fill attention. Later on, when
Zipporah arrived at the monastery, he
developed a curiosity on her leaving
Reverend Mother alone; to continuously
stare at her innocent face trying to play
with her. Zipporah also loved the
company of Mirage`s humbleness. He
became her only friend. The pair grew up
playing merrily on the island in their own
small world.
At an age of the beginning of their
transformation into teenagers, they were
taught all the basic spiritual as well as
knowledge of verbal communication.
Starting with the ancient Geez alphabet
they went on to study the daily prayer, the
Hailey Mary and Melody of Incantations,
Night Incantation and The Psalms until
they mastered the bible including the
extras, as a way to attain the peak level of
the prime stage of divinity. In addition,
they learnt the art of divine poetry from
Abba Jemberu - the monk who brought
Mirage to the island. They used to sit
under a tree overlooking the lake every
afternoon practicing how to site poems.
Young Mirage received his deaconship,
which entitled him to conduct church
services and the divine incantations. But
Zipporah obviously couldn`t get the
chance, though she yearned for it. She
was completely against the law that
foreboded a female deacon in churches.
She took in her anger, without openly
vocalizing it to anyone.
She told herself, “I toiled day and night
so that I can learn all this, only just for
fun! For nothing! Wait a minute …Isn`t
Holy Mary a female? Wasn`t she brought
up in a monastery?” and then she would
regret her wish. “…Oh my God forgive
me for equating myself with Saint Mary -
Mother of Jesus! I say things I should not
say, knowing I will never get a place in the
church. But, it is because I desire to serve
you in your altar. What is sinful about
that? Oh…now I remembered, Our Lady
Virgin stayed in the altar till she was 15
years of age. And I am already fifteen.
Forgive me my Lord, for I had unholy
thoughts about entering your altar at this
age. Forgive me!”
Sometimes as she looks down at her
bosoms, she leans down with shame as if
her sprouting breasts were signs of a
great sin. She would cover them and her
desires with the run`s robe she always
wore. She tried to push them back to her
chest. She prayed they would disappear
like the measles she know from her
childhood. But they wouldn`t! Worse,
they continued to grow. No one except
her shared the pain from her anxiety,
because the blossoming fullness of her
body was always covered with a robe of
unattractive color - the color of the soil.
She feels hot inside her. A strange feeling
of lust makes her restless. Whenever the
feeling takes over her body, she would
start praying and bowing at the altar
front, to fight against Satan, against her
nature. But the victory was not to be hers.
Even with extreme fasting and hunger,
her bosoms and her bottoms persisted
growing in their opposing directions. Her
heart also; it never stopped pounding like
a drum whenever she saw Mirage.
It was at this time of desire that a
decision was made by the societies of
both monasteries. The decision stated,
`Now that the two children have reached
adolescence, they can no longer go
through the day together.` So, Mirage was
taken to Kibran Island – where there was
a monastery for males only. She remained
at Entons, alone.
She missed her childhood. There was no
one else that matched her age. The
sudden loneliness was unbearable for her.
Whenever she turned her head, her eyes
met the tired, weary eyes of women so
old and with no worldly life in them. She
would look up only to gaze upon an
empty meaningless sky, and she would
look down to find the expanse of water
she knew since she could remember. Or,
even better the disfigured sight of palm
trees along the beach, with their ugly
black berries. Otherwise, the heedless
lifelessness of cocks that can`t even
looked back at her.
The love she had for Mirage burned the
inside of her heart even with more
flames, especially when she heard some
news from the other island about Mirage.
The old women talked a lot about him.
Exceptionally, Reverend Mother Welete
Kiros was never tired to tell Mirage`s
story. Her love for him goes far far
beyond simple remembrance.
The days she went through, without
Mirage by her side, seemed to her like
years. The sleepless nights went-by so
slowly, every second adding more to her
pain. The only times she could look at his
face from a distance was when he came to
the nunnery to perform church services.
She couldn`t even talk to him lest she
`tempted` him and break his covenant
with God. Both knew better not to say a
word to each other, to avoid being talked
about and to close the door on the devils
temptations.
She reflected, `Why!? Why should I be
the reason for him to break his covenant?
…But what is this; a spirit that is pulling
me to him? Why is my body challenging
me? Why is my soul thirsty for him? Am I
acting like this because of a bad spirit?
Yes, the devil is tempting me. Satan is
setting his trap for me. Is it not true,
Satan dwells in monasteries? Who will he
tempt in the world? The world is all in
sin! All are in his hands! All have failed
without a challenge! Nobody left for him
to tempt in the world. But here, in
monasteries, there awaits a battle for him
to fight. It is true; evil shall have no
existence where there is no good! …
Even if it exists, what sign does it have to
prove its existence? Who am I to walk
between evil and good spirits? Wasn`t
even Christ tempted when he went to
pray for forty days to the monastery of
Korinthos? I`ll be much easier to tempt
for the Satan who dared to tempt Christ!
I wish he`d leave me alone with a scorn.
How could I go on with my body
burning with desire? I can`t. Oh my God!
Protect your servant, if you don`t want
me to tempt him. Hold back your son,
away from me. Even angle are envious of.
But I lie under his feet, defeated. I love
him. Have I chosen to be in love? It was
your deed!`
Then she would suddenly turn the pages
of the Bible to the Songs of Solomon
section and read, `Let him kiss me with the
kisses of his mouth,` the page whispers to
her. `…for your love is better than wine.` The
words tell her exactly what was in her
heart. `I am black, but comely, O ye daughters
of Jerusalem, as the tents of Kedar, as the
curtains of Solomon…Tell me, O thou whom
my soul loveth, where thou feedest, where thou
makest thy flock to rest at noon: for why should I
be as one that turneth aside by the flocks of thy
companions?`
As she read from the verses, and she
thought she heard Mirage reply “I shall
hide between the watchful rocks of Tana
under the shadow of the tress.”
The Bible went on, `I sat down under his
shadow with great delight, and his fruit
was sweet to my taste….My beloved [is]
mine, and I [am] his: he feedeth among
the lilies. Until the day break, and the
shadows flee away, turn, my beloved, and
be thou like a roe or a young hart upon
the mountains of Bether....By night on my
bed I sought him whom my soul loveth: I
sought him, but I found him not.`How
she loved these verses! She would never
have opened the bible if it had no Songs
of Solomon part.
The sweet verses of love set flames to her
body. Her heart would start pounding.
Her breathing would go up. Finally, she
would feel coldness between her legs. She
would and then suddenly come to her
senses, make a sign of the cross on the air
with her hands and turn the pages of the
bible to revelations.
The book written on Fitmo Island by St.
John brings calmness to the flaming lust
of the island girl. The end…The beast…
`And I stood upon the sand of the sea, and saw
a beast rise up out of the sea, having seven
heads and ten horns…`
That was what made her tranquil again.
The other book, which created the same
effect on her, was `The Chronicles of
Repentance`. The words lash at her with
their flames of repentance. Otherwise,
she would pick up another book of
divinity - `The Road to Heaven` that talked
of the terrifying journey the soul makes
to heaven, after it was parted from its
body. It tells how the angels of Darkness
and the angels of light fought for it. The
book depicts a picture of the Angels of
Darkness at war against troops of
daemons with their swords drown. When
she had regained a normal heartbeat, she
would recite the Holy Mary and got away
from her fantasy, crossing herself.
However, her taught would wander back
to Mirage again. He came to Entons
following a shift. His services that would
last for two weeks, started at the
beginning of every month. For the
remaining two weeks, she couldn`t see
him. These were the worst weeks that she
had to go through with a heavy heart -
terribly missing him. `You can`t stay half a
month without looking at his eyes, raise your
voice so that it reaches his island, and call him to
come to you.` She heard a voice whispering
in her ears. She longed to look in his large
eyes.
One night she couldn`t sleep. Dawn
neared without dozing off for a second.
At last, she got up from her bed and in
the darkness; she sought her way towards
the beach, and sat on a rock breathing in
the comfortable coolness of the wind
from the lake. She was so deep in thought
and lost, that she didn`t even notice the
waves crushing upon the reefs and
wetting her cloths. The passing of time
seemed unaware of her presence, as she
too was unaware of it. In a state of
complete trance she stayed there sat on
the rock. Suddenly a thunderous lightning
begun flashing across the sky, and rain
started pouring down on the island as if
it wanted to unite the lake. She was
unaware of it, heedless to the downpour,
like a statue in the rain. She kept a
constant gaze beyond the waters on the
love of her island, until the rain ceased,
daylight came and the covenant bell rang.
The following night she went into her
small hut decorated with paintings of
saints and lighted the tip of the lamp
fueled with oil, at the altar. The book she
was trying to read sprawled open beside
her bed molded out of mud and allowed
to dry in the shape of a curving box. It
was covered with a white satin over a thin
mattress. She lied down above the covers
naked and stared blindly at the altar,
directly in front of her. The stain on the
white sheet reminded her that she had
cried the night before.
She had come to a decision. She has to
write a letter to him. There was a pen
made out of bamboo and a black ink
prepared by grinding grains torched to
blackness. It was the same writing set that
she thought herself how to write. The
problem was that papers were found only
in the library.
`I must write to him today, even on a
piece of dry leaf, if I couldn`t lay my
hands on a piece of paper. I`ve to let out
all my despair and give it to him in the
morning without anyone looking at me…
` she thought. In a moment, an idea came
to her. She tore up a piece of the white
sheet, laid it on the book, and dipping her
bamboo tip in the black ink, begun to
write her heart out.
The morning covenant prayer seemed to
her take the whole day, as she waited for
him, impatient to complete his services.
As the big church bell rang announcing
the end of the prayers, she was standing
right at the east gate waiting. It was
forbidden for women to enter the place
of God or even stand at the eastern gate.
Zipporah had no other alternative.
The gate opened at last. As she saw
Mirage come out wearing a white robe
with a cross engraved on it, in an
atmosphere of divine majesty, all the
confidence she has been summoning,
vanished in a moment. Her legs betrayed
her. She could not take a step. Except to
follow him with her eyes, the panic was
too much to let her do anything else past
blindly stare at him as he walked way,
down the narrow road that led to his
boat.
At last, after much wrestling with herself,
she was able to regain some of her
courage back.
She ran as fast as she could to reach him
just when he was about to embark on the
boat. Two other monks on their shifts
were with him. “Mi…Mirage…?” she
called him between clenched teeth. He
looked at her and without a moment`s
hesitation; he got off the boat and came
straight toward her. She handed him the
folded up white satin as quickly as she
can. “Don`t show it to anyone!” she told
him and went back to her hut. She was
still trembling when she reached home.
Mirage jumped off the boat as they
reached Kibran, run up the island`s hill,
sat under the fur tree. Then he eagerly
unfolded the white satin.
“Mirage I`m in so much distress. I tried
to be my real self. If I told anyone else
except you that I had fallen into a trap, I
know they will give me no solution except
to tell me to repent. I severely punished
my body for many days fasting, thinking it
was the devil`s temptation. I recited The
Image of Jesus Melkea Iyesus; Mesteme
Aganent Submerger of Demons; Gedle Pop
Ze-Yohannes The chronicles of Pop Ze-
Yohannes; spent many days in deep prayer.
Our Reverend Mother Reverend Mother
Welete Kiros saw my restlessness and tied
me with the punishment log, so that I
could pray for many more days. But I
couldn`t get myself feel better. The
challenge set before me has caused my
mind to live in constant pain. I hear the
daemons laugh happy to drive me out of
God`s dwelling place.
Mirage please come and save me. Let me
tell you the truth, all the truth. I miss you
every moment. I want to see you always.
… Why is that happening to me? …
Mirage … do you want to see me
devoured upon by daemons?
If you do not want this to happen, come
and provide me with a solution. Use a
boat if you have to. If you are not
coming, I`ll be forced to throw myself
into this lake and surrender my soul to
the devil and his daemons. Because there
will be no pain more powerful than I am
now going through. Tonight, I`ll be
waiting for you sitting on the big rock by
the side of the lake.
Greatness Be to God
N.B. When you are done reading it, wash
the words away or burn it.

Mirage jumped up with joy. He was glad

to know that the same feeling which for
so long had been eating away his heart,
was in fact inside her too. He thought
`Zipporah… if only you knew I spent all day
long looking towards your island, from the big
cypress tree? Let the night fall and I`ll come to
you, swimming if I`ve to.` unaware that he
was speaking his mind out.
The day went very slowly for him. He as
usual read the songs of Solomon part
from the Bible, repeatedly `Come, my
beloved, let us go forth into the field; let
us lodge in the villages. Let us get up early
to the vineyards; let us see if the vine
flourish, whether the tender grape appear,
and the pomegranates bud forth: there
will I give thee my loves.`
He thought she responded back to him
from where she was, `Until the day break,
and the shadows flee away, turn, my
beloved…`
“No! Twilight seemed far away from me.
Long nights are better than days that
never end.” he said stretching to get up,
still reading the songs. `Thy lips, O my
spouse, drop as the honeycomb: honey and milk
are under thy tongue; and the smell of thy
garments is like the smell of Lebanon.`
He halted his soliloquy for fear it would
drive him to madness. He got up and
went into the monastery`s storeroom to
guide some Englishmen and women
tourists on a tour around the monastery.
He spent the rest of the day explaining
about the ancient antiquities and
manuscripts contained in monastery with
the help of a translator and with more
vigor than any other day.
“The church was built with carved red
stones.” he began explaining to the
visitors. “These twelve pillars around the
altar were made out of the same type of
stones… The building adjoining the altar
is the grave of Pop Ze`Yohannes – the
monk who founded the monastery. …As
you can see, this church was built on the
highest tip of the island. …This is a bell
made out of stone. One of the most
amazing pieces of ancient art is this
painting of Saint Mary made by the
hands of Saint Luke himself.
“This one is the iron robe of Pop
Ze`Yohannes he wore during his prayers.
“This monastery is special in the sense
that it is allowed only for men. But
women are also not allowed in Daga and
some other monasteries across Tana …
And next to this island there is a
monastery built only for women.” He was
saying to the tourists, telling them
everything they didn`t ask to know. But
now suddenly he remembered her.
Zipporah he went out without even
saying good-bye. Later, someone else was
summoned, to start form where he had
cut the tour short.
Midnight struck while Zipporah sat in the
darkness waiting for Mirage to come. She
became impatient. She suddenly can`t
stand it anymore. Took her clothes off
and dived into the lake. She started
swimming toward the men`s monastery.
She guessed he would find her in the lake,
if he were already swimming in that
direction, dead or alive. The crocodiles
and the hippos were not making her
worried. She used to swim long distances
without a trace of tiredness. Now, her
fear-stricken shivering body was getting
out of her control. It kept drifting down
under water against all her efforts.
Suddenly she saw a shape in the dim light
of the moon, as she was starting to panic
for dear life. It was the shape of a man
swimming toward her.
“Zipporah!” she heard a voice she knew.
She delightedly raised her voice, “Yes, my
dear!” she replied keeping her head above
water with a renewed strength.
“What`s wrong?” he asked her, nervously
“You were late!”
“Ok, let`s swim back to your island.”
“No, I can`t. I `m tiered.”
“Hang on!”
“I can`t Mirage.” her attitude of
impossibility made the swimming even
more impossible for her. He came very
close and held her. Her body was
unbelievably hot, almost burning through
his body as they touched. Her breath
swept over his face like a desert wind.
“Hold on, we are getting closer.” he said,
his heart pounding faster and faster every
passing moment. The heat radiating out
of her body was scorching even under
water. His body was also starting to heat
up.
Upon reaching the shore, they both lied
down on their backs breathing heavily.
She became aware of her nakedness and
quickly covered herself up with the cloths
she had left on the bank earlier.
Mirage got into his clothes, he had
wrapped up on his head when he first
started swimming. Both sat down on the
rock in silence. They were not the
children who used to play wildly and
shamelessly. Now they seemed to find
nothing to talk about__
“Mirage …” she said, “… I`m so cold…”
her teeth were clattering.
“What shall we do?”
“Why don`t we go to my hut?” she said a
little ashamed.
“That`ll be hard to do.”
“How?”
“What …What if someone watched us?”
“So… what do you think we should do?”
“Ok, what about the room outside the
monastery…” her courage amazed
herself.
“In the graveyard?”
“Yes, for the cold…”
“Ok. Let`s go.” he said, without any
hesitation even though his instincts were
telling him he was about to do something
dangerous.
They went into the graveyard, got into
the bell room and locked the door from
inside. The loose earth under their feet
gave way their legs went down, ankle
deep. They didn`t care. Mirage reached up
to bring a bundle of straw on the wall.
He laid it evenly on the ground for them
to sit down. They were silent again.
“…Is Reverend Mother Welete Kiros
getting better?” he asked her, just to break
the silence.
“No, she is getting worse. They tried to
persuade her to do a medical checkup, but
she was reluctant. Only God has the
power to heal or to kill.” she`d said. Her
old age was also adding up with her bad
health.”
“What was the thing that was troubling
you?” he finally asked her, with an effort.
“I don`t know.” she couldn`t find the
right words to tell him that she love him.
“How?” he asked, he guessed what it was
about, but…
“If only you…” she couldn`t go on.
Instead, she went on thinking, “Why must
he ask me? What kind of a conscience
does he have? Why can`t he understand it
without the words being said?”
Mirage…simply, let me ask you a
question. Have you ever wanted
something so much?” she said forcing the
words out with effort.
“Yes,” he said “There are things I
desire… some of these things I can get
and others I`m not allowed to.”
“And what I desire …is only…” the words
were stuck at her throat. “What I
desire…is, you. I want you.” She said, at last
telling him what she was holding for a
long time.
“Which means__”
“What is there left to explain. I want you.
Simple!” she said, fearing for the worst to
come. Praying he wouldn`t ask her any
more questions.
“I want you too …I mean…” he said, to
her surprise, coming unbearably close to
her neck. They were both breathing
heavily in unison. They had no idea how
and when their lips joined. Both heard
verses from The Songs that they have been
reciting long enough to remember by
heart…unaware of the time, they
remained lost in each other`s worlds and
in each other`s arms, when suddenly they
heard the sounds of the morning bells on
both islands. In their hearts, they cursed
the bells for sending them both back to
the real world.
Just when they were getting ready to leave
the room in the graveyard, he took off a
cross, made in the shape of a `♀` from
around his neck and placed it around
hers.
“Thank you. It is the most beautiful cross
I have ever worn in my life. … I`ll be
thinking of you whenever I look at it.”
She said holding the cross tightly in her
palm
“When will you be back?” she asked him,
missing him already.
“We will meet the day after tomorrow,
here in the grave yard house.”
“All that time! …It seems as if it will
never come. But I`ll wait for you. You
must come, whatever happens, ok!”
“…I will.” Mirage said. “You too.” he left
her, quickly walking away through the
forest down to the shore. She sat down
on her usual rock to watch him swim in
the direction of Kibran Island. He waved
his hands to her as he reached the other
shore. She returned his greeting by
coming to her feet and waving both her
hands.
Three days passed. They met again at the
exact same place. As they were in the
middle of their seventh heaven, the
sudden ringing of the church`s bell froze
them with panic. It was midnight. They
both knew, the bells would not be ringing
at this hour, except something out of the
ordinary had happened. They heard
lamenting voices of nuns. The voices
seemed to come closer and closer to
where they were staying - towards the
graveyard.
Within minutes, men holding shovels
reached at the graveyard. Zipporah held
Mirage`s arm tightly in fear.
“Are we digging from inside or from
outside?” they heard one of the men talk.
“Oh my God, are they going to dig a
grave? May be somebody has died?” She
whispered in his ears. They were truly
afraid now.
“Was there someone sick?”
“Does this mean Reverend Mother Walete
Kiros died? There was on one sick except
her.” She said.
“Is this going to be our fate? Oh, God…
we are doomed. Why…”
“What a disgrace…” there was bitterness
in her mouth.
“What if we go out and __”
“They are at the gate!”
“How did they come here?”
“They must`ve used a boat…perhaps.”
“What`ve I done to deserve this!” her
voice betrayed her hopelessness.
The man who came back with the elders`
reply, told the men to dig from inside the
grave house.
“If we are going to dig from inside, go
and bring a light! Do you think a nun as
saintly as Reverend Mother Welete Kiros
should be buried outside?” he said
squealing the door open.
“…Is there somebody inside?” he asked
letting in only his head. It was a moment
they wished they were dead.
“Come here Abba Finhass! Come and see.
There are people in here! Bring me the
candle!” he was staring close to the two
faces. The candle light casted it`s light of
shame on the lovers. For them the light
was more ill fated than the darkness all
around them.
“God of Israel, what have you shown
me!?” said Abba Finhass, turning away
from the scene in disdain!?” he said.
He came here from the island of Daga
Estefan, where he lived, to visit Reverend
Mother Welete Kiros who was on a
critical condition, but he also had
something on his mind to talk to
Zipporah.
“Almighty God! Impossible! … Holy
Mary!” said the latter monk, letting go of
the shovel he held unconsciously, to cover
his eyes with both palms in shame.
“Mirage…my son! why? Are you not
praying anymore? Why didn`t you fight
the devil with your prayers!” said Abba
Finhass with a sad tone that made
everybody look down. He was looking at
something he has never imagined it would
happen.
“Why my children? A disgrace! A
complete disgrace!” He`d visited
Zipporah the day before; to give her his
blessings and good advises he thought
that will make her stronger. His visit
today was meant to be by the side of the
dying Reverend Mother Welete Kiros`s
last hours. But he had also something of
greatest importance he wanted from
Zipporah. He tried to find her at the day
time roaming around the monastery.
Mirage had no words to say. He wondered
if he could say a word, had he got a thing
to say. But he kept his humiliation inside
him, so that Zipporah wouldn`t panic.
“It`s all right…” he told her, leading her
out of the grave yard house holding her
hand.
In spite of the absolute distress he was in,
he escorted her down to the shore;
courageously telling her that nothing
terrible would come out of the incident.
They reached the shore where a boat and
another small canoe were docked. He
started toward the canoe.
“Follow me.” he told her. “We`ll go
together.”
“Where can we go?”
“Anywhere...but we must get out of here.
You and I can never live in these islands
anymore. Don`t forget that we were not
supposed to talk to each other. Being
discovered alone together in a dark secret
place is something else. Something very
serious! “
“I know Mirage… but…but where can
we go?” she asked him again, in a
confused helplessness. She knew both are
complete strangers to the rest of the
world. They never knew anywhere else
except the two islands.
“We will just be on our way; our
directions will decide our destination.
Don`t be afraid. Let`s go somewhere, any
place where our fate shall take us.”
“Ok, as long as you are with me, I`ll go
anywhere.”
Before go on board on the canoe he held
her hands tightly and stood watching at
her. The dim cold light from the full
moon partially covered with a brilliant
white cloud, fell upon the cross hanging
from her neck hanging down between her
bosoms. He watched it as it reflect back
her love for him deep within her heart,
and his heart was filled with it until it
overflows.
“I`ll keep it with me forever…all my life,
your gift shall live with me.” She said to
him and only to him, holding the cross
tightly in her hand. “Yesterday, Abba
Finhass asked me to give him this cross.
He begged me for it. I told him that I`ll
never do it__” a sudden flow of energy
shot at her, out of his eyes, pulling her on
to his body, beyond her control clinging
her to his chest. She eagerly sought his
lips with hers. He did the same.
Suddenly, she felt a strong hand grasp her
from behind. She cried startled. She
turned around to see Abba Finhass`s
angry face. Without saying a word he
pulled her by the arm to the boat. Its
engines had suddenly started. He forced
her into the boat against all her efforts.
The driver was Abba Matthews. The boat
made one last whining sound. As it
propelled away across the water,
Zipporah`s pitiful cry of lament echoed
over the shore.
Abba Finhass and Abba Matthews
seemed deaf to the high-pitched
terrifying sound; they kept very quiet. She
tried to jump out into the water hoping
to swim back to her Mirage. Abba
Finhass would not let her. He held her
back with his strong, iron grip. The boat
sailed away widening the gap between the
two lovers, every passing moment. She
heard Mirage calling her name, from far
away, as if she was dreaming. His voice
was lost in the powerful sound coming
from the boat`s engine and Tana`s waves.
She looked at the two islands going away
from her sight until they became like two
dots in the horizon.
Mirage jumped into the lake and started
swimming behind the boat. It all
happened so fast that they took her away
before he could decide what to do. His
instinctual reverence for his spiritual
elders was what held him back from
fighting for her, perhaps. What else is
there to fight for, greater than love.
As when the distance between him and
the boat became wider and wider, he
knew his efforts were meaningless. He
called her name one last time, with a
voice muffled up by a lump in his throat,
“Sip…pa…rah.” Finally, his voice became
inaudible even for him. The waves carried
it away in a direction away from where he
intended it to reach. At last, he gave up.
He remained there between the two
islands, with tears of loss slowly running
down his face.

Later four monks from Kibran took a

boat to bring back Mirage to his island.
All were in a state of deep sadness. Not
only because of Reverend Mother Welete
Kirose`s death but, also about Mirage`s
fall from grace. His fall was more painful
and damned than the blissful passing
away of the nun. For the monastic society,
he was a soul-less man who has
committed the unforgivable sin. A dead-
man-walking. They were sad for him, for
they had high hopes for him in the divine
kingdom - with God.
His unlawful, ungodly and disgraceful act
created a highly emotional confrontation
from the high monk, elder of the order.
“You shall be judged, for fighting Satan
was your duty. You will be restrained!”
the abbot told him, his lips quivering in
shear anger.
As was customary for any monk who is
guilty of the sin of fornication, his legs
were locked in a huge log with two
openings. He must stay locked in the log
until the elders say, “Enough.” The monk
left him in an empty room taking with
him the key to the chains to be put on his
legs.
After some hours in the dark hut chained
to a log, he began talking aloud. “Untie
me…don`t leave me alone… it was not
Satan…” everybody ignored him.
All monks were summoned together with
the ringing of the big stone bell. One of
the two stone bells in the monastery, the
big bell was rung when the elders want to
call a meeting. The smaller one rang to
announce the end of a meeting. The
monks were given instructions to pray for
Mirage before the sound of from the
smaller bell adjourned their meeting, to
their prayers.
“You old fools! Do you know what you
are doing? Why can`t you make out love
from Satan? …Untie me! Isn`t that too
much? …can`t you see she`d left me? …
Untie me! They are taking her away
against her will! Let me save her from
their cruelty! Pray for yourselves. I am
sane, I`m not going crazy. You are the
crazy ones.” said Mirage, with no one to
listen to him.
He went on cursing and blabbering while
tied with the log. Nevertheless, he was not
showing any progress for forty days. At
last his cursing ceased. They guessed he
was well again and untied him. The next
morning he took an old canoe out of the
island, away from the two islands.
Exhausted from the rowing, he reached
Bahir Dar City. It was a strange world for
him-The automobiles… the hustle!
Women wearing trousers that made their
hips move in a strange immoral way. He
begun looking at each one imagining
Zipporah may be one of them. They seem
to dislike his stare. They returned his look
with their spiteful look, making him seem
foolish and insane. But he was sure he
will find Zipporah out of all these
strangely dressed girls. It was much later
that he knew he was looking for her in
the wrong place.
He used the St. George orthodox church
as a night time shelter and ate his meals
with his new friends he`d found literally
living at the gate of the church asking for
balms. He couldn`t believe he had
become a beggar overnight. He spent
some weeks with them thinking
continuously about what to do next.
One morning he was still asleep on the
side of the church gate when someone
woke him with a harsh shake. He looked
up to see a truck, the engine still running.
People were getting inside it. Two soldiers
who were clearly recognized as command
as of the army came to where he was
laying down, grabbed him by both arms
and forced him into the back of the
truck.
Before he could understand what had
happened, the truck started moving. They
traveled for many hours. He guessed they
have covered many miles. At last, the
truck came to a stop and they were told
to get out into a completely hostile dry
environment - a desert. It was an army
base. He - along with others like him -
was being forced to join the Derg army.
The brutal Derg - the military regime of
Ethiopia - stayed in power for 30 years
since 1974. Led by a vicious dictator
Mengistu Haile Mariam, the army was
engaged in war with the region of
Eretria, which had declared its
independence, de facto. The war went on
for more than 30 years, to claim the lives
of hundreds of thousands of people in
vain. Now, Eritrea is recognized as a fully
independent state.
Soon after his arrival, Mirage begun to
hear the words, “Mother land…or
death…March…Turn right and back!” he
directly went into the training without his
consent and was sent to the battlefield.

Zipporah and the two monks arrived on

port Gorgora at dawn. Leaving the boat
on the port, they set on a long journey on
foot, Northward. At noon, they came to a
village where ironmongers and jewelers
dwell. None of them was saying a word.
They kept walking in silence. Many more
people had joined them along their way.
People from a village they were passing
through were packing up their
belongings, also to join the group.
After almost a week`s journey, the group
of travelers continued toward the
northern mountains leaving the town of
Gondar to their side. Their number had
continuously increased. Families kept on
joining the group from every village they
went past.
“Wait … but where are we going?”
Zipporah asked, as they were resting
under a huge fig tree.
“…To the Holy Land!” Abba Finhass
replied gazing directly at the Northern
Mountains. This was his first time talking
to her.
“Which land is the Holy Land?” she
asked him again, also looking up to the
thickly cloud covered Mount Ras Dashen.
“The Holy Land is Israel, the land
Jehovah promised to our fore-fathers -
Jerusalem.” He told her. She knew about
Jerusalem, from the bible.
A couple of yards away, Abba Matheos
was digging upon a mound of earth,
taking some of the soil in his bag. A
couple of people watching him, laughed
at what he was doing.
Abba Finhass continued, slowly blurting
out the words, he seemed a little restless,
“You see my child, Zipporah …there are
many things you don`t know. Before
everything else, I want to tell you that…
that I am your father.”
She looked up at him in bewilderment.
“What?!” she said, taking her brows all
the way up her for head, as if she heard
him wrong.
“Yes my child. I brought you to the
monastery, not because I wanted to. It
was because I was poor. And I last your
mother to the cruel hands of death. I
tried to raise you up working as a laborer,
while I carried you in my back. It was
impossible.”
He pulled up his thick monk`s robe to
uncover his left arm, to show her a big
scar, which forced a sigh out of her. His
arm was disfigured to the point of being
an indistinguishable part of his body. No
doubt, it was a scar inflicted by a bullet.
“You see my child.” He went on. “Abba
Jenberu, Abba Diddimos and I have
something in common…It happened
during the Italian occupation on Lake
Tana, I was a ship`s …ok, forget about
this one, I`ll tell you about it some other
day. Not now.”
He kept his eyes on the “♀” shaped cross
Mirage had given her. She could not
imagine why he was looking at it so
eagerly, so lovingly. He`d a heady asked
her to give it to him, once.
“You see my child …,” he said, pointing
his chin toward the mountains changing
the direction of her view. “It was here at
the bottom of this mountain that your
mother and I lived, earning our living as
ironmongers. The money we could lay
our hands on, selling ploughshares was
very little. Our lives were filled with
misery. However, more than anything else,
the death of your mother made me to
lose all hope. I loved her. I could not go
on raising you on this God forsaken
place. Even though I am an Israelite and a
Judaist, I joined the monks of Daga
Estefan keeping my faith inside me, just
to raise you, and I gave you away to the
nuns. Now our relatives are here to take
us with them.
He pointed to a westerner riding a mule,
painting his face with black mud.
The westerner was taking photographs of
everything and everybody. Zipporah
watched him interviewing Abba Finhass
and taking his photos. He looked at her
with a fixed gaze continuously. He kept
looking as long as she did not look away.
He followed her wherever she goes,
falling behind when she falls behind and
closing in from behind her when she went
ahead.
“… He is our relative! That white man!
How could it be?” she asked, puzzled.
“Who are our relatives?” she looked at
the stranger standing with the elders
talking. His shaved his head and the mud
on his face made him look like as if he
wanted to be their relative.
“They are the Israelites, our blood. They
came to liberate us from this life of
misery. We have lived below the soil
keeping our heads down. Now they have
come for us. They`ve come to take us to
the land of milk and honey, which God
had promised to our fathers.” He thought
his sweet words could melt her heart and
make her forget Mirage. However, her
heart was still as one with Mirage`s heart.
“So why hadn`t Mirage come with us?
Why did you leave him? Abba…Now
they will be tormenting him. They will
think he broke the covenant! But nothing
happened between us Abba…please let`s
go back and get him?” she pleaded with
him.
“That is impossible. You see my child that
is what you do not know. We are
originally Israelites. The People of God.
We don`t mix the God chosen blood with
a strange blood.”
“But, Mosses married an Ethiopian,
didn`t he? So what if …” he interrupted
her.
“These people, who are going to take us
with them, have completed doing all the
research about us. They`ll not transport
anyone who is not an Israelite by blood.”
He said sending his eyes towards the
strange man for a moment.
“Whatever they do, I`ll not move out of
here without him.” she said, turning away
to the direction they came from.
He did not reply. Their period of rest has
ended. Everyone was packing up again to
embark again on their journey. He held
her hand with his strong right hand and
led her to the line of travelers. She
followed him reluctantly. After all he was
her father.
People of every kind were walking all
around them. Many held their basic house
hold utensils tied on the tip of their cane,
balanced on their shoulders. Some carried
sickles, hoes, and shovels. Others held
spears, swords, and ploughshares in case
they may find them useful at some time in
the future.
Together with the elders who were talking
to the strange westerner, children and
famine stricken skin and bone donkeys
were walking with effort.
People from Gonder and its adjoining
towns – Weleka Rafael, Sielket, Gorgora,
Chelga, Kuara, Janora, Enqekoshashlit,
Armacheho, Belbaho, Teda, Dengen come
to join the mass of travelers. And from
the country of Wegera-people of Dabut,
Selamge, Guraree, Warcua, Kibra Eyesus,
Amba Georgis, Dergaj, Charbita joined
them. As they became one with the
caravan they all have nothing in common
to do, except to utter a single word to the
travelers, they met first “SHALOM!”
Also from the state of Gojam they came
together from the towns of – Bahir Dar,
Bure, Debre Markos, Dima, Yismala
Georgis, Adet, Dur Bete, Qunzela and
Gibgibit. From the country of Bege
Midir out of the towns Woreta, Farta,
Awedo, Kurea Mariam, Meneguzer,
Amora Gedel. These came behind as the
tail of the caravan. They came out from
all four corners of Ethiopia.
It was a time when Ethiopia was going
through a civil war. Everybody else was
busy to notice the avalanche of people.
The regime`s army - unable to notice
anything else except its immediate
survival - was being relentlessly attacked
from all sides by old and newly
mobilizing rebel fighters, determined to
make its life a living hell. Therefore, it
was a perfect time to execute “Operation
Mosses” – transporting Israelites back to
their land. It was also a golden moment
to infiltrate the highly trained Israelite
agents through the Sudanese boarder.
The Israelites have lived for almost two
centuries scattered throughout Ethiopia –
especially in and around Northern
Gonder - with an undying hope that
someday to come for them to return back
home. However, during their days they
lived as Ethiopians, they have fallen in
love, married and raised families mingled
with real Ethiopians. That was why it
took such a long time to study their past
lives, prove their true Judaist origin, and
prove that they had - beyond any doubt -
an origin from The Tribe of Dan –
Felashas. The official announcement made
after the research made it clear that they
were in truth the people who the bible
described as `People of Judah` dwelling
upon the present day North Arabia.
As Ethiopia continued to sway in a frenzy
of war, Israel`s intelligence agency
successfully executed its operation,
transporting Felashas out of Ethiopia.
During the operation, the prime Minister
of Israel at the time declared, “We shall
not rest until our brothers and sisters in
Ethiopia return safely to their country.” He
was not there to watch his brothers and
sisters perish with starvation in the dry
merciless windy summer.
The journey continued. Men, women,
children, donkeys, and mules swarmed the
winding road. Later on, a decision was
made to move only at nighttime, due to
security reasons. Even then, the long
single line of travelers was divided into
small groups that must follow a side road
away from the highways, traveling
inconspicuously at all times.
This was the longest and the most
hideous of all voyages for Zipporah to
cop up in all her life. How could she? She
grew up on a small island; she could walk
all the way from tip to tip in less than a
day. She never even had to run until she
gasped for breath. By God! She had swam
across Tana until her heart seemed about
to burst. Now love was also pulling her
back with its strongest of chains tied
around her heart. Though her body kept
moving reluctantly, her soul remained
with Mirage.
Her feet had started bleeding and the
blisters between her legs were bursting
painfully. Large cracks had formed on the
once beautiful smooth surface of her lips.
Her beauty was no more. Many days
passed while they trailed along roads
across roads when at last they went past
the town of Debark. They`d covered
more than 132 kilo meters even after the
city of Gondar. She looked up at the
mountain to witness amazing nature.
Mountains with pointing tips stood as if
they were the horns of earth. They seem
to gaze down from where nature had
built them intact above solid rocks, upon
beings flowing beneath them generation
after generation. Bazaar scenes
continuously unfold on these mountains
as if they were stages for a play. Fighting
baboons, wondering birds, howling foxes;
on the mightiest and most majestic of all
mountains in the region - The Ras
Dashen. A mountain that seemed to
compose a harmonious melody for the
dancing fountains originating out of the
huge rocks and flowing down upon it as
tiny narrow streams.
Zipporah stared up at the peak of the
mountain and thought for a moment that
God must be sitting up there. The clouds
and the mist circling the peak of the
mountain made it seem like a poetic
priest with a white garment wound
around his head. A priest who sat close to
the sky citing poetry close to God`s ears,
Enchanting to him. And, God rewards
the priest with a white Kuta to wind over
his head. He has blessed Ras Dashen with
graying hair under its white head-cover,
as a sign of its long age
Whoever saw Ras Dashen would not dare
to call it a mountain. No one would think
of it as a mere collection of rocks and
stones. It would seem to him like a live
body that has something to say. The
northern mountains dance beneath him
singing the “Gubae Kana” following the
beats of St. Yared`s music. And, Ras
Dashen listens to them from up above.
It stands at 9000 feet above sea level
sucking at the sky. It was clear why the
Bete Israelites (Ethio-Israelites) always
lived close to Ras Dashen. Legend had it
that in 2300 B.C when King Sebtah ruled
the land of Abyssinia that the Israelites
came to Ethiopia. They were so overtaken
by the natural beauty of the country that
they asked the king to allow them to
dwell on and around the mountain. When
the kind was reluctant, they pleaded for at
least the cold heights of the mountain
and they promised to lead a loyal and
humble life. He granted their request at
last, and allowed then to settle on the
highlands and the mountain. Some died
because of the cold and others survived –
against all odds.
They called the mountain with different
names semen, Amerga, Amba-Ras and
Aber. Aber means Godly Gate. That was
because they also used the mountain to
worship their God. Back in the days of
the Old Testament, it was customary for
followers of the faith to pray every year
on the mountain.
The Semen Mountain was a highly
important place for the Ethio-Israelites.
From the mountaintop, one can see the
ground below in every direction to a
considerable distance. Its strategic
importance for war and the reason why
they wanted it for themselves was very
clear. They have gone through many wars
victoriously. Even when enemy forces
took the upper hand, they were able to
spare themselves by hiding in the caves
scattered throughout the mountain. They
then reorganized themselves again and
launched attack by rolling huge rocks
down the mountain on to their enemies
in retaliation.
“Son of Kush Remus had two sons
named Yuda and Sabisa” as some Bête-
Israelite elders say. “Yuda is the father of
the Bete-Israelites here in Ethiopia.”
Sippahra listened to them as they all
rested under the shade of a tree. She does
not care about their origin. Half hearted
as she was, part of her had become one
of the characters in the play taking place
on the natural stage of Ras Dashen.
They reached the villages scattered
around the bottom of the mountains.
Farms were seen around the old petite
huts. In every village, she saw in
bewilderment the Star of David mounted
on the tops of the huts. Out of these
villages inhibited by Felashas, old women,
famine stricken children and old men
came to meet them with a common
greeting word “Shalom”. They welcomed
the endless swarm of people, washing
everyone`s ailing feet and providing them
with a place to rest. The travelers arrived
late at night. Ironmongers and jewelers
hammered at the red-hot cast iron into
ploughshares and swords. Then when it
gets cool under their hammers they again
put it back into the furnace fueled by coal
and an air pumps driven with their hands,
made out of skin. They hoped to sell
their products to the travelers.
Abba Finhass led Zipporah by her arm
into a place of worship with a Star of
David on the top of it. She was horrified
when she saw him took off his celibacy
hat and threw it away in a nearby dustbin
new the door. His attention to
destruction then shifted to her neck and
when he started to take off her necklace
and her “Mateb”, she responded by
cluching the cross with her hand, “why, in
the name of God!
“Not my Mateb!” she said incredulously.
“You don`t need it anymore.”
“Why don`t I need it? And let go off the
cross, it is a gift from my Mirage… let go.
It is not you who gave it to me!”
“I told you. You don`t need it here. You
don`t need it from now on. Now on you
will worship the God of our fathers.”
“Are going to make me a Muslim?”
“No, my child. It must be done, so that
you could worship God of Israel, Adonie.
From today on, you are a Judaist. You are
the family of David! You will pray and
bow to the God of Abraham and Jacob.”
“But I too pray for the same God. I shall
not denounce my belief in the trinity,
even if to save myself from a blade to my
neck. I will not denounce that Jesus
Christ was born from saint and Virgin
marry. You were not the one who raised
me. Jesus and Marry raised me as father
and mother.” Tears filled her eyes.
“Though I wasn`t there to raise you, I am
still your father, my child. How could I
advise you to make a mistake?” he said
sliding his palm up and down his
circularly bold skull. Grey hair lined up
below the line where monk`s hat left its
mark.
She held her “Mateb” deep in a debate, an
old Judaist priest wearing the customary
small hat - Kiap, begun conducting the
evening services. As he started citing the
evening prayers in Hebrew, everyone
around shifted his or her attention
towards the priest standing on the stage.
Silence prevailed in the temple, except the
thundering voice of the priest.
The evening prayer was held every day at
sunset. The old priest was saying,
“Blessed is Our God; God of Abraham,
God of David and Solomon.” She
understood the part of the prayer similar
to the Ge`ez dialect. Praise the Lord
forever, in the morning and in the night.
His deeds are great and amazing. He does
it all by Himself. Only he is Holy. The
greatness of Adonie shall fill the entire
world. Blessed and holy is his greatest
name. He is the Most Holy. He is great.
Forever and ever, He is blessed. She
translated it in her mind.
But, what the priest prayed following
that, she had absolutely no idea about,
except for some Ge`ez words she heard
once in a while.
He went on as she thought the old priest
would faint, out of breath. She was tired
of his unrelenting blabber.
Abba Finhass, who watched her confused
expression, translated it for her
whispering close to her ears, “Adonai the
ever living, glorious Adonai. He is a
sanctuary for those who fear him. He
says, `Look! My angle shall guide you up
front.` Oh Lord, your loving kindness
shall be found in heaven. Oh Lord, we
plead for your forgiveness. Oh, Adonai
the ever living, Father of Abraham,
Father of Yishak, Father of Israel, our
Father; our faith is in you. The ever-living
Adonai, your angels shall not rest in the
day, and shall not sleep in the night…
God`s name is hidden, his word is sacred,
his word is a source of happiness to the
soul and a medicine for the body. The
Lord speaks, `My son, my first born is
Israel he is my son.` …verily, you created
Israel for glory. He shall not eat raw meat
and shall not drink the blood of a
goat…” the priest never tiers.
Abba Finhass`s translation kept flowing
out of their lips covered with his beard,
close to her ears. He translated it with a
muffled voice as if someone held his
nose. She was giving him only some of
her attention, looking around the temple.
Soon the prayers ended and the priest
begun making a speech. “Praise for Lord
of our fathers, God! I welcome you all
Bête-Israelites who had come from the
sacred mountains: - the sacred Mount
Dashen, the sacred Mount Midraro, and the
sacred Mount Janie Fenkara. Welcome holy
fathers of Israel. Shalom.” He greeted
them holding his two hands high up.
All greeted him back, in a single voice,
“Shalom!” raising their hands up in the
same manner as the priest.
Every year, elder pilgrims from the
mountains came here where Bête-
Israelites prayed. They all came eagerly, in
joy because the time has come for them
to see the Holy land - Canaan.
They prayed year after year traveling to
the holy mountains. They climb up the
holy mountains calling the names of their
dead relatives and offer sacrifices for
them – `Emian`. `Emian` is a type of
grain “Teff”- used as a main food source
around Ethiopia - which they carried,
knotted on their robes. Then, they took a
bit from their `Emian` and scattered it
upon the rocks. That was how they offer
sacrifices. They believed the soul of the
dead would rest in peace following their
actions. That was why most of them held
their `Emian` tied to their robes.
Zipporah continued scanning the interior
of the temple with nothing much of
interest to see. The Hebrew Holy Book –
The Torah – could be seen sprawled upon
the bookstand at the corner. Various
artifacts and jewelry with the Star of
David Scribed on them lie around it.
When the prayer time was over and
everybody dined upon whatever they have
in their luggage. Tiered as they are, all
went down to sleep at wherever they
could lay their backs. Their bodies were
aching.
Zipporah slept sandwiched between Abba
Finhass and the boat driver Abba
Matheos. One of her hands was tied to a
log. In case, she tried to run away while
they were still asleep. Around midnight
she woke up feeling cold between her legs.
“Oh my God!” she said. Her period has
started. She wore nothing - not even
underwear - at least to hold it back to a
certain degree. In truth, she never had.
She was now wearing a long evenly
tailored outfit, except for the nun`s robe
tied around her waist - `Kinat`. Reverend
Mother Welete Kiros had showed her
how to handle her period when it showed
up. However, she had no kind of cloth to
use as a pad in her luggage. She had no
alternative except to cry.
The sun must have cursed her from the
beginning when she first set out in the
morning. Her dress was now smeared
with blood. She was hit with the pain of
shame.
Awake, Abba Finhass knew exactly what
had happened without her saying a word.
He untied her in distress, took her in his
arms and took her to a nearby river. She
went into the river, cleaned up herself
and her dress. But, when she got out of
the water the bleeding has continued
again after a moment.
The old priest who led the evening
prayers came out of nowhere. He was
angry. “How could you transgress the
customs of our fathers? How could you
perform a cleansing ritual before her
seventh day? Haven`t you said you are
Bête-Israelites? If you really are Bête-
Israelites, you should`ve asked us where
you could find the house of the
damned…” he went on bragging. She
could not understand him.
“Ok get up!” he told her harshly.
He took them to a tiny old hut on the
outskirts of the village.
“Get inside!” he told her. “You will be
cleansed after seven days.” With this, he
locked her inside and went back to the
village.
Abba Finhass sat for a moment near the
front door keeping his head down,
thinking. Then he went to the river again
to cleanse himself, for he had touched an
unclean woman.
Every faithful Bête - Israelite and Hebrew
shall cleanse himself even before going in
his house back from market. Any Israelite
should repent and pass through the
cleansing ritual for a period, if he/she
dined on the same table with Christians
or Muslims. Otherwise, the transgressor
will not be allowed to inter their temple
and to worship. The individual going
through the cleansing ritual shall fast for
seven days with only a handful of raw
peas daily as a meal. When the period of
fasting would be over he shall be cleansed
with water after the prayer of repentance
then psalms are cited and his head is
shaved.
Following the same custom, Abba
Finhass cited from the psalms and dipped
himself seven times in the river, which
concluded his cleansing ritual.
Moreover, as was the custom for any girl
on the age of adolescence must perform
when she her period first; Zipporah
stayed in the `cottage for the cursed` for
seven days and dipped herself seven times
in the river. Her cleansing did not end
there. She had to stay there until the sun
went down.
She could not comprehend how she
could live in this kind of strict discipline.
Ever thing had a cleansing ritual. Every
object connected directly with the
unclean act should also be cleansed.
Zipporah would have gone through the
ordeal even if she were a boy. The ritual
has to be made for an adolescent boy who
has had a wet dream. Even for a married
man who made love with his wife in the
night, should go and wash himself in the
river or a shower with his compatriot.
Don`t forget the seven times immersion
in holy water. Boys should all get married
at their 20th age.
These Ethiopian Israelites were now
ready to leave for Jerusalem; out of the
land, they have kept these rituals for ages.
They have gathered from everywhere
around the country, on which they had
built more temples than found in Israel.

After a few days, they commenced their

journey again into Sudan. The travelers
carried their luggage on the backs of
asses and on their shoulders. They set out
into the cruel desert leading to the
Sudanese boarder.
Many children and elders perished as
soon as the caravan entered the desert.
They could not stand the hunger and
thirst any longer. Some went back home,
guessing that death would be inevitable
and chose to give their lives away to the
land they really belong. Others became
victimsof venoms snakes and scorpions.
Zipporah would not imagine there was a
pain as horrifying as this in hell. She
traveled to the Sudanese boarder on foot
for almost two months.
Two miles to go to the border, Abba
Finhass fell bit by a poisonous snake. It
did not take a while for the poison to
infect all his body. Abba Matheos
wondered around to find a plant he knew
for an antidote. Except the sand and the
scorching sun, he found nothing.
Abba Finhass fought for his life, sighing
and gasping for air. He held the
mysterious cross on Zipporah`s neck and
said, “My…child, now don`t return
back…but after…after sometime, with
this cross you`ll…” his voice faded away.
His hand eased the grip on the cross.
Everything was over before she could
make out what he was telling her, except
the one about not coming back. She cried
with all her heart, not because she lost a
father but because he died when he had
almost reached the immigrant center –
his destiny. Again, she remembered the
words “Don`t go back! Don`t return back!”
You`re right! Now I can`t, even if I
wanted to go back. This was what it was
meant to happen in my life. She told
herself. No, I will not return.
Since the day was a Sabbath day, Abba
Finhass`s body was carried away instead
of being buried. As was the Hebrew
custom, any Hebrew who died on a
Sabbath day cannot get a burial. He was
buried the next day near the Sudanese
immigrant camp. Judaist custom ordains,
especially in Ethiopia, that the grave for
Abba Finhass should have a depth of five
meters and must have the shape of a
rectangle. And, a kind of a flat shaped
stone – Mergeb - should lie beneath his
feet and above his head. As the digging
ended, one of the stones will be placed
above the ground suspended in the walls
of the grave and after the casket was
placed on this rock, the second one will
be used as a lid for the grave. The casket
mustn`t touches the ground, lest it curses
it. Before the dead body was at last
inserted in the grave, the priests address
it, “You are home, no returning out of here.”
then they bid it farewell. On the third day,
they shall slaughter a red calf in a perfect
bodily condition. The calf must be a
female and every single part of its body
its skin; horns and nails-must have no
flaw at all. Its body parts and blood shall
be burned on fire flaming from logs of an
olive or Mir tree. The ash from the
remains was to be divided among the
priests on a brand new clay plate. The ash
will also be sprinkled upon people who
touched the body or who were near it. It
was believed that, the ash would cleanse
the people from its curse. However, for
Abba Finhass even one of all these
services was not conducted.
Zipporah watched the horrible
conditions of the immigrants` camp in
Sudan. Hunger had eaten the bodies of
the children and the elders, leaving them
with were bones and skins. Dead bodies
were stretched out in the Red Cross tents
covered with battered dirty clothes. It
seemed as if the angel of death dwelled
inside them. The white doctors wearing
white gowns seemed to inject death itself,
when every patient died on their hands.
Among the hunger stricken immigrants
from Ethiopia, a woman was seen dining
upon the soil she brought with her.
Others came close to her, so that she
might share it with them. Another elder
was seen munching the `Teff`, he was
carrying for `Emian`.
Zipporah and Abba Matthews carried no
food from the start. They shared what
was left out of the barley bread their last
meal.
“Abba, that is not enough for two, you
have it.” Zipporah told him.
“No my child, you better eat it.”
“No, I can`t. You have it.”
“My child, you need this more than I do.”
“I`ll hold on.”
In the middle of their insistent
invitations, someone who seemed he had
never tasted food all his life, by the looks
of his outlined bones, came to quickly
snatch the bread away and put it in his
month.
“That settles it!” said Zipporah.
Abba Mathews took Zipporah to a
woman who was preparing a soup from
barley flour.
He pleaded her “Please, my child is
hungry. Can you spare her some?” in a
sad tone.
The woman replied, “So, am I the
UNICEF? You see my child suckling at
my blood. You had better go back to
where you came from. Are you kidding
me?”
“What shall I do my child?” he was in a
state of frustration. He looked around
and saw the man who had insolently ate
their last meal. I could not even ask him
back, he thought.
“Hang on my child! We`ll find something
to eat until tomorrow…or may be the
day after.” He told her just as an
assurance, a hope to live for. However,
she thought she could not last another
minute. She longed the taste of a drop of
water. The thirst was more unbearable
than the hunger.
She remembered the lake she grew up
swimming in. the cold water she used to
dive in. she imagined swimming in the
lake between the two islands. Then she
saw Mirage. She thought about him
swimming across the lake to be with her.
The two of them, singing about love
sitting on the rock in the dark, the moon
shining on them. Both of them, feasting upon
each other’s love while in the grave house. Then
she remembered the gravediggers arrive
at the door forcing them out. …Abba
Finhass pulling her into the boat away from
Mirage - her Mirage.
“Oh no!” she said, bringing herself back
from her daydream-almost a
hallucination. She spent a lot of time in
that state that she was completely
unaware of the hunger and thirst she felt.
Now, suddenly the pain returned.
Abba Matthews smiled when he
remembered the damp soil he was
carrying in his bag. He gave her a handful
of it. She was reluctant.
“Please my child, at least it will keep you
alive.” He begged her.
At the same moment, a woman`s screams
echoed loudly in their ears. She has lost
her baby. She was the same woman who
refused to share her soup with Zipporah.
The child had gone to the beyond world.
He started the long journey towards
heaven with an empty stomach. They
buried him instantly some distance away
from the camp in the sand.
The woman returned back from her
child`s funeral only to find out that her
soup was all gone. She had lost
everything precious that was hers.
“Who ate my soup?” she screamed with
all the strength left inside her. She came
furiously to where Zipporah was
standing. Her blood vessels on her neck
were bulging with blood boiling inside
them visible from distance.
“It`s you!” she shouted at Zipporah.
“Now do you want me to kick your ass?!”
“It wasn`t me! I swear in the name of
Mary! I didn`t touch your food!” replied
Zipporah, her mud covered lips quivering
in fearful amazement. She was consuming
the wet soil that Abba Matthews gave her.
“…Shh…hhh…” whispered Abba
Matthews placing one palm on her
mouth. “ Don`t say St. Mary`s name!
They will not take you with them if they
knew you are not Hebrew.”
“So let them go without me! You are
asking too much!” she was a bit angry.
“Can`t I call the name of my Holy
Mother? Who are they going to love if
they hated her?”
“You see…for them Jesus or the Messiah
is yet to be born from a Hebrew
bloodline. They believe in a one God not
in Trinity. They do not accept that Jesus is
the son of God born from Virgin Mary.
They also do not believe that Jesus Died
on The Cross to save the world,
resurrected from death and ascended to
heaven on the fortieth day. They believe
God can`t be born or die rather he allows
birth and death as a creator.” Abba
Matthews told her in a low voice.
“But for me Jesus is born and had risen
from the dead... He also had destroyed
the wall of conflict between God and
men. … Haven`t they seen that?! … Why
mustn`t they believe this, they were the
ones who were there when it happened,
believe this, when we do without
witnessing it? ” She had always been
inquisitive.
“It`s been written, `… blessed are those
who believe without seeing…` my child.
Even Jesus himself said, `…a prophet
shall not be honored in his country…`
“He had told them what they deserve to
hear.”
“Hush now. Even he never succeeded in
convincing them.” He said smiling in
amazement. We don`t have anywhere to
go if they are to leave us alone in this
desert. We have already left our country
for good.
You better take care. Our fathers used to
say `a hyena limps until it bites.` Once we
reached Jerusalem we will stay at the Der
- Sultan convent which is a place that
King Solomon willed to our then queen
Saba. So until then keep everything inside
of you.”
Even if Abba Mathews is not a native
Israelite he was so eager to visit and pay
his tribute to the alley that Jesus Christ
has walked on all his life. Then he was
planning to make his dream of taking
refuge in the convent. That was why he
had taken off his monk`s cap and was
holding it close to his chest.
The woman, whose soup mysteriously
vanished went on fighting and arguing
with anyone she thought was responsible,
late in the night; a somewhat dazzling
show for Zipporah and Abba Mathews.
Suddenly the place was filled with the
sound of big engines roaring. It came
from fatigue covered trucks with their
head lights on. As they came to a halt
armed soldiers jumped off hurriedly and
secured the every inch of the perimeter
where the travelers were passing the
night. Then the startled refugees fought
their way onto the trucks after they
registered their names. Some who had
just been awake joined the long queue
rubbing their sleepy eyes. Even those with
non - Israelite origin made it to the trucks
by registering pseudo - Jewish names as
there were nothing to identify Ethiopian
Jews except using their names.
The trucks were designed by moss ad for
this purpose specifically can hold about
one hundred people but now they were
stacked with more than twice the number.
There were many who were sick and
hungry who won`t hesitate to get away
from this hellish place even on the backs
of the devil`s horses.
The Israelites would have to complete a
six hours journey to board the planes that
would take them to Israel.
Zipporah couldn`t find Abba Matheos
just when she was about to get onto one
of the trucks. She started looking for
him. The white man with a mud covered
face came up to her, took her hand and
pulled her back to the truck.
“He will be here. He will find you.” He
told her in a broken Amharic. She didn`t
have any alternative.
On the trip to the airport many took
another journey to heaven. At their
destination when they were found as
standing corpuses among the living. The
rest stood in crowds according to their
arrival. She still couldn`t find Abba
Matheos.
The planes came thundering down
terrorizing the weak travelers who had
never seen one before in their lives. They
run in every direction for cover as if they
were under attack. Zipporah was not
afraid. She had no more part in her heart
to be afraid anymore. She was the first
one on board the plane.
The flight was full of the smell of death
as plane left the desert and arrived in Tel-
Aviv. Many more lost their lives in mid
air. She was now used to the sight of
death. Upon landing Israelites getting off
the plane fell and kissed the land of
Israel. So this is the Promised Land? She
wondered. Oh! Great God! She had lost
everything. Her father. Abba Matheos.
She searched for Abba Matheos again in
vain. She wasn`t sure about what to do
next. She was thinking about where the
Der Sultan Monastery - an Ethiopian
monastery in Israel - might be, when the
white man who uses mud as a mask came
to her.
“You follow me! Matheos is dead.” he
told her. She was as if struck by a
lightning. Dead?
He took her by her hand and pushed her
into a car
“My name is Anania.” The driver
introduced himself as he sped the car.
She couldn`t answer. She was consumed
by the whole of the events that happened
to her.
The car came to a halt and Anania led her
to a spacious hall. A clerk was registering
the names of newly arrived Israelites.
After she too went through the process
she was taken to a disinfecting room and
had her clothes burned and cleaned up.
They gave her a tight trousers and a
blouse which she wore reluctantly. Good
bye Ethiopia! Shalom Israelia! Shalom
Jerusalem – Salam Alaeykum.
A few months later she found herself in a
boarding school in the outskirts of Tel-
Aviv.

She spent some years there studying

Jewish language and religion before she
was recruited as a soldier. She a prized
member of her squad, favored for her
Hebrew fluency and her efficiency as a
combat expert. It`s been some years now,
since she integrated her new citizenship
deep down in her soul and started saying
`Long live Israel!`
She was amazed by herself when she
thought about the espionage orchestrated
battles she has fought victoriously. That
was when Anania recruited her as a
candidate agent. Mossad was careful in
selecting its agents. She had no family to
care for. She won`t back off from a
mission. Or, get corrupted. He always
said that he had succeeded in trapping a
predator. But he also had other unholy
intentions for her – he liked her body.
“So you`ve never seen him after that
time?” Anania`s question brought her
back to the moment, from where she was
dreaming about her past.
“Who?” she asked him back, turning her
gaze away from the photo of the two
islands.
“ Mirage!”
“No. I went to Ethiopia repeatedly in
search of him. I even went to the islands
where we grew up in disguise. But I was
unable to find him. I`ve heard that he had
run away from the island after he was
reprimanded for forty days in the
monastery. God knows where he had
gone.”
“Do you have to go on searching for
him?”
“I will search for him until the last
moment.”
“That is stupid. Zipporah, to tell you the
truth it is foolishness. For all you know,
he could be married to some woman right
now. Men don`t have a patient heart. I am
telling you, your search is over now. Now
you have me by your side.” She hated it
when he starts this. It infuriated her.
“That is so silly! You don`t even know
how to do it.”
“Would you say yes if I knew how to do
it?”
“Stupid! Don`t ever ask me this question
again. And even now, you have made me
think about the past. Which I don`t want
to do.” She looked at her wristwatch. It
was time for their meeting about the
Shagiz case, at Mossad headquarters.
“Ok, let`s go. Quick.”
They went into the car. Meroda started
driving.

CHAPTER 3

Los Angles – USA

Almost three and half years has passed
since Dr. Mirage first went to live in an
antique apartment situated some distance
off street 101, in the outskirts of North
West Los Angeles. It was an adequately
peaceful and quite neighborhood. Even
though, the apartment has an old style, its
newly built state-of-the-art swimming
pool and garage gave it an overall look of
modernity. Most of the apartments were
occupied with old people.
Doctor Mirage is apartment on the eighth
story of this magnificently structured
building was a lot more silent than the
ones near the base. Sometimes when he
got back from his duty, he would open
the huge living room windows to let in
the refreshing breeze of Pacific Ocean.
Except for the flattering white
transparent curtains and him, no other
soul was ever seen in his apartment.
Doctor Mirage led a lone life.
His apartment not luxuriously furnished.
In the bedroom, a spacious bed is seen
taking up the greatest part of the room.
However, he spent his nights sleeping on
the floor on a small mattress. It helps him
think better. In the kitchen, small and big
pans and other utensils necessary for
cooking fast food. The living room
consisted of a television, a couple of
computers, a couch and some documents
in addition to the shelves lined up across
the halls and even in the centre of the
room.
The living room seemed as if it was a
library. The books were positioned
according to their types. Philosophy
books, history books, medical books,
science were written on the shelves.
Theological books-orthodox Christian,
Muslim, catholic and protestant
Christianity, Buddhism, Hinduism and
others had taken an entire length of a
shelf. Neatly stocked on another shelf
were journals from various researches
from universities all around the world.
The lengthy table on the centre of the
living room was always occupied with a
stack of papers and two or more laptops.
A mattress with a guitar at its side is seen
lying at one corner. Doctor Mirage
refreshed himself with it whenever he
was fed up of the hectic world.
He played his own notes with it.
Sometimes he would be so taken away
and lost in the melody that his lips don`t
move at all. He would stay in a state of
trance for a long while, eyes closed. In
particular, his state of serenity reached its
highest peak when he played his guitar at
sunset looking beyond and over the
majestic colors of the pacific in harmony
with the sun`s rays. Sometimes in
moments of his oneness with nature, the
sound of the tunes ceases from reaching
his ears completely, and he would go into
a dream like state. All his works were
accomplished while in this state of
musical transcendence.
Doctor Mirage has a medium height and
a statue so taut and slender, and a gait
that could be compared to a strong
soldier`s. His clear eyes bestowed bright
warmth onto his light brown complexion.
They had a furiousness that strangely
attracted anyone who looked at them.
Though he rarely smiles, his teeth were
seen lined up perfectly white along his
dark reddish gum, whenever he did smile.
What made him laugh weren`t the jokes
that everybody laughed at. Sometimes
when he was with other people, he waits
for everyone to stop laughing before he
laughed at a joke. It seemed as if he
believed one had to wait for his turn. Or
perhaps, watching other people laugh was
a humor that made him laugh.
Mirage`s silence was like an ocean. If he
must talk, his speech flows like a river.
Many loved him because he listens to
them. Most of the time he preferred
elders than his peers to converse with. It
seemed as if the fact that he felt at ease
whenever he was with people who
resembled the old monks he grew up
watching on the island. His childhood
wish was to grow a beard as long as the
monk`s from the Daga Estefan
monastery. He now had a narrow and
sparse meticulously groomed, black
beard. Some of his coworkers call him
“the terrorist” when they made jokes about
each other;not to his face though. His
silence intimidated them more than the
look that his beard gave him. It had
grown in a shape that circled his face, as
if to defend him inside its perimeter. His
curling dark hair had a majestic beauty
that enabled him to stay a long time
without a haircut.
Mirage spokes with a rough but pleasant
voice. Back when he used to be a deacon
many people came to his church
ceremonies, just to listen to his
enchanting voice now replaced by the
sound of his guitar. He may not be
singing any more, but his smoothly
thundering voice still created a moment`s
awe in one`s ears whenever he spoke.
The books in his apartment owed a lot to
his present personality. He had read
infinitely many books written around
issues and ideas he believed them to be
true or not. He had lived through
unending days and nights hidden in the
worlds these books created for him. He
didn`t have anyone close to him except
these books. He spends a huge amount of
his income on purchasing books. He had
no recollection of his family. He had
never had an idea of what a father,
mother, brothers and sisters would be
like. He only remembered the Islandsof
Lake Tana and the shadows from their
trees.
Together with all of these memories,
Zipporah came to his mind every day. He
remembered the time they were in love.
His books were his only alternatives to
forget the nostalgia. He could not mix up
with a group of people and engage in a
long conversation. The monastic life he
was raised up had made him a monk even
among other people. However, he does
his job meticulously in a strict manner.
He doesn`t want other people hurt,
because of his mistakes. He has an innate
sympathy for patients. He really cares for
them. He believes doctors to be the hands
of God and God heals people through
medical doctors.
Sometimes - only sometimes - Meroda
comes to break the unbearable silence in
his apartment. Whenever she was around,
it seemed as if there were a hundred
people talking. She always had something
to talk about.
“Your apartment seems like an author`s.”
She would say to him.
“I operate on the tangible body of human
beings while my books operate on the
intangible part of my body. Doctors treat
only patients, but books treat patients as
well as doctors. Authors are like angles.
Angles are messengers between men and
God, while authors are messengers
between the people and the government.
When the government ignored the
messages delivered to it by true authors,
these authors also deliver the messages
from the people to God. The true and
real authors deliver the message on time
but pseudo-authors disappoint the people
by saying that they were afraid to publish
their scripts at the time of its greater
importance. However, they claim that
they were the ones who had already
written it. No imprisonment would befall
upon him if even an ordinary man
criticized a regime after its fall. An author
who was afraid to tell the truth about the
ugliness of the regime and who tells
about its viciousness after the regime had
fallen off the throne shall be like a dog
that barks after the hyena had already
gone. Anyone who incriminates an order
already fallen is not better than someone
who assaults a dead offensive animal. An
author should reflect the voices of a
nation to the system that reined at the
time, not to the government that comes
after its fall. Authors who are not
delivering the ailing cries of the people to
their kings and rulers are enemies of the
people. They mislead both the nation and
the rulers. A script which was not
published by the time it should be is like
an unseasonal rain that only destroyed the
crops.” He would reply fervently.
Meroda would look at him astonished
about the intense emotion he had on the
issue and she would say, “It would`ve
been better if you were an author.”
Then he would answer, “You can`t decide
to become an author and be one. But, I
grew up at a place very good for writing.
The manuscripts I read in the monastery
had hidden and abstract literary meanings
veiled behind their religious and divine
natures. If these Ethiopian religious
manuscripts were really works of art then
the creators and artists should be
awardedthe Noble Prize. If we looked at
them from the literary point of view, they
were entitled to many rewards.”
Mirage had participated in two battles
since he first joined the Northern front.
He found a good friend who was sent at
the final stages of the war to join his
brigade. This soldier had good manners
and an amazing personality. He was one
of the few who have had the chance to
transform Doctor Mirage`s life. He first
saw this soldier in the training base.
He had never forgotten what he heard
him say once while doing a tiresome
training maneuver. They were running
while carrying heavy sacks filled with
sand, when he said to him, “Don`t get
weary of this training. What you
exercised in times of peace will be your
savior during tough times. If it is within
your capacity you`ll save your country
from the hands of Yankees, or you`ll save
yourself using it.”
The soldier carried a bag full of books in
addition to his gear, on his back even
during battle. When the battle ceases he
took one of them out to read. When his
friends called him Lenin, he would reply
by saying “I`m not Lenin, I am Doctor
Jangida.”
“Are you kidding?” Mirage said one such
day.” Are you really a doctor?”
“Yes,” he told him. “I graduated in
Medicine. It was the day of my
graduation and while I was partying with
my family, government people came and
arrested me.”
“That`s unbelievable, they arrested you at
a time when people were calling for
doctors and perishing away calling their
mother`s name in agony. Then, they made
you an infantry.”
“Forgive them for they did not know
what they were doing.”
“Unbelievable!” said Mirage and went
back into his silence.
He was pleased to be fortunate enough
because he was able to find such a lively
optimistic friend. Jangida also lent him
books to read secretly. He read novels,
philosophy, history, psychology and
religious books. They used to tear off
their cover and title pages and burn them.
Because, if they were found reading any
other book except those with Marxist –
Leninist ideas they would surely get into
danger. They would be labeled as,
Advocates of imperialismor infiltrated C.I.A
agents. Therefore, they would change their
covers and give them new titles, like
`Marxism Leninism` or `Struggle of the
Working Class and the fall of
Imperialism`.
Jangida was the only person Mirage was
close enough to tell him the story of his
life. In their army base when they shared
a bedroom with other six soldiers, only
the two of them had the highest intimacy.
Since the time Mirage told him about his
life in the monastery, Jangida had been
calling him with a nickname
“Gedamawiw” meaning - the monastic.
“Hey there, Gedamawiw!” Jangida would
say to Mirage.
“Yes!”
“Teach me the Enchantment of St. Mary
and I`ll teach you English.”
“No problem.” Mirage would say. “But
what do you need it for, Kalashnikov and
the Enchantment of St. Mary doesn`t go
together.”
When Jangida noticed how brilliant
Mirage was as he taught him the language,
he told him that he would be a great
success if he could learn modern
education and if they ever escaped from
the base, he would get him into a school.
They both for a time had been planning
to escape from the base, as soon as they
found a way out.
One night Mirage and Jangida were as
usual engaged in a deep conversation,
inside their bedroom they shared with
eight other soldiers. A light from a
lantern hung from the ceiling dimly
lighted the room. It seemed to be battling
with the stark darkness outside the room.
The remaining six were also preparing a
wicked plan: Force the female cook into
having sex with all of them - rape her, of
course.
Not even a week had gone since they
went through a harsh military
punishment for raping a local farmer`s
wife.
That night though Mirage and Jangida
were discussing the contents of a book
they had both read, their ears wandered
away to the sexually provoking chatter
coming from the corner. Suddenly one of
the six soldiers entered the room in haste,
carrying a woman on his shoulders. The
woman`s mouth was gagged with a green
piece of cloth. She moaned and
struggled, it was difficult to understand
what she was trying to say. Her body was
soft and full, the kind that invited unholy
thoughts. It has been a while since the six
of them planned to quench their sexual
thirst all at the same time.
She was Meroda the cook.
“I`ll go first.” said the soldier who
brought her earlier. “Then you will be
next…then you…then you …then you…
you…then anybody interested can go
next. But, every one of you must make
sure that you`ve fifty birr in your pockets.
That`s all!”, he said. Then he unbuttoned
his trousers, lowered it down a little and
jumped on top of the woman. The others
stood eagerly waiting for their turn. As
they recalled the farmer`s wife had
fainted on the third round. Perhaps that
was why they were so eager to enter her
body before it went lifeless.
Mirage and Jangida couldn`t believe what
was just happening. Especially for Mirage,
the scene was unbearable, not to mention
the fact that he never witnessed such a
scene, except reading about it in novels.
His heart was beating with disgust and
panic when the lustful solider on top of
the helpless woman said to him,
“Gedamawiw, I`ll lend you the 50 bucks
if you don`t have it.”
“You beasts!” he yelled at him. “Leave her
alone, now!”
“Are you kidding?”
“I said, leave her alone or I`ll send a
bullet through your back.” Mirage stood
up loading his gun and aimed it in his
direction.
“A typical monk! You better come here
and give up your virginity. You may never
find another chance to do it! It may seem
to have no meaning at all for you, because
you have never tasted it. But to pull the
trigger on a pleasant feast like this will
only send you into hell.”
“You go to hell!” said Mirage handing
over his machine gun to Jangida and
rolling up his sleeves.
“Let go of her!” he charged at him
grabbing him by his collar and sent him
staggering backwards with a nicely placed
punch.
“If the rest of you try anything stupid,
I`ll fire the whole round on you.” yelled
Jangida aiming at them the machine gun
Mirage had loaded. “You are dogs!”
The Muscular soldier who was astride the
woman at first, retaliated by hitting
Mirage on the chin, which created colors
in front of his eyes. Mirage returned the
blow with another powerful side blow
that sent him straight to the floor on his
back.
The woman rolled closer to Mirage in
fear. Mirage stamped the head of the
fallen solider between the floor and the
sole of his boot.
Meroda was a newly recruited cook.
Jangida told Mirage to pack their luggage,
still aiming his machine gun on the
bewildered soldiers. Soon they were out
of the room taking the woman and their
luggage with them.
They couldn`t have taken any action by
themselves. They had no authority. Their
only alternative was to leave the room to
the lawless soldiers.
“I …” said Jangida as soon as they were
out of the room. “I`ll not fire one more
bullet on the enemy, with these soldiers!
Ever! Mirage…we have to get away.”
“Yes, I was thinking about escape too__,”
said Mirage. The woman stood trembling
with frustration.
“But how can we escape?” said Mirage.
“I know the guards. You will wait for
some time and appear after I go and talk
to them. And this will execute the rest.”
he replied, producing a gun with a
silencer and handed it to him. “You must
get a clean shot at all of them, taking
cover behind us. All this must take no
more than ten seconds. You must be
quick.”
“Where did you get this?” said Mirage
running his eyes all over the gun.
“I took it from a general killed in-action,”
said Jangida. “But you must be very fast
if we must get out of here in one piece.”
Meroda the cook had now regained her
composure and was listening to them.
“Wait a minute.” she said with a
commanding voice and quickly left for
the kitchen.
“Why shouldn`t we postpone our escape
plan?” Mirage asked him. He was
weighing the success probability of their
plan. He calculated it to be very small.
“There will never be a better plan than
this one, even if we keep on preparing a
thousand times. However, even if there
was, I will not fight alongside this army
any more. Let me tell you something
Mirage,” he went on with pure
determination.
“This army can never taste victory. It is
loaded with stupidity. There is a lot of
indecency. It is full of traitors who shall
not hesitate to lead this army into fire. We
do not have any proof if these rapists
were not really traitors. Daughters and
wives of poor and helpless farmers are
being raped. Our decent and kind
mothers are being raped. Many women
are urinating blood, because they were
raped by a brigade of soldiers at a time.
Many married women who used to have
honor in their villages, are now living in
shame, hardly able to look anyone in the
face. Even a priest`s wife was raped while
her husband pleaded in the name of God,
holding his cross. Teenage girls are
walking pregnant. Others are raising the
babies of soldiers they don`t even know.
All this happened because of this army
of traitors with nothing but indecency. It
is easy to guess that an army that fights
carrying this entire curse and the tears of
helpless people shall be defeated without
a doubt. How shall an army be victorious
when it ignorantly arrested small children
against their will and sent them into the
cruel flames of war without enough
training? Very few in this army are
fighting consciously for the purpose of
redeeming their Mother Land from the
rebels. And this country is losing its
heroes on every battle. This is a country
where its brave children fought for until
the last drop of their blood, while traitors
and defectors are honored and revered.
“Yes.” said Mirage, inspired by his
friend`s speech that clearly pictured the
one and only truth about the situation.
“You are right Jangida. It would be better
for us to go wherever our legs may lead
us, than staying here to witness the
destruction of our country, without
doing anything.”
“Mirage… our heads not our legs must
lead us. Our legs should follow our heads.
And we shall not be led by our incapacity
also, because we can choose not to follow
it.”
“You are right again. I apologize for my
misleading thoughts.”
“Take it easy. It is better to accept and
correct a mistake more than anything else.
You can never learn if you don`t make
any mistakes,” said Jangida
“Mirage, don`t forget what I told you, we
have to control the guards quickly.”
“I`ll control them.” Said the cook, she
was back carrying her bag on her back. “I
owe you two. I will help you. Here, hold
my bag for me. You will come only when
I made a sign with my flashlight. They
want me to bring food to them; they are
hungry. But you should wait for at least
forty minutes. Just look as if you are
going to the toilet so that the patrol
guards wouldn`t suspect you. Hide your
bags too. Leave everything else to me.”
After almost one hour after midnight,
they saw the light from her flash light.
They started towards the gate carrying
their bags out of where they hid it. They
found all the guards fallen unconscious.
“Quick!” the cook said. “We must escape
before something dangerous happened.
No questions.” She took her bag from
Mirage and sprinted into the forest. They
followed her.
It was daybreak when they went past
Tesenay, to the Sudanese boarder. There
still was six hours of journey by foot left
to pass the boarder. The cook informed
them that this was the most difficult part
of the whole journey. In addition to their
stalkers that could be following them
behind, there was also the probability that
they might fall in the hands of enemy
soldiers.
The sun`s rays were going into their
vicious mood, when the travelers reached
the middle of a rocky gorge. They hid
under the shade of a big rock.
“My name is Meroda.” said the cook.
“My name is Jangida and he is Mirage.”
All were smiling brightly.
“Now you can ask questions.” She said.
“Question number one,” said Jangida.
“How did you kill the guards?”
“The food was poisoned. Did that answer
your question?”
“Exactly_”
“I`ll let Gedamawiw ask you the next
question.” She said. “Who did you say his
real name was?”
“Mirage_”
“Ok Mirage. What is your question?” she
said turning to Mirage.
He did not answer. He was moving his
hips looking directly toward the east.
“He is saying his morning prayers. He is
always like that in the mornings.” Jangida
told her.
“Ok, you ask me the next question.”
“Can we talk about the next part of the
journey?” Jangida asked her.
“Of course!” She replied. Then she
produced a folded up map out of her bag
and began showing him territories
occupied by enemy armies as well as the
free zones.
“This zone is occupied by TPLF.” She
pointed at a particular point on the map.
Jangida was looking at her in absolute
amazement.
“And this one is EPLF territory.” Her
expertise and tone of her voice were not
at all like a cook`s.
“Cook… excuse me …Mae_, Meroda, can
you tell us something about yourself?”
Mirage has completed his prayers and
staring at the map. Now he was string at
her.
“I am the cook, Meroda!” she replied with
a smile.
“Stop joking and tell us.” Jangida insisted.
“Let`s leave that for another time. Now
we have one common vision. So let us
first complete the journey we started
together. The rest will have its own time.”
“That is ok with us, cook. Now, go on
with your explanation about the map.” He
conceded in a thundering voice.
“There is an army of three brigades on
this base. Two more brigades in the other
one.”
The map was full of information about
key strategic military positions and army
base found on Northern Ethiopia. The
bottom of the map was congested with
numbers and symbols that precisely
manifested detailed information:- number
of soldiers, types and amount of
weapons, number of trained personnel,
military efficiency, territorial advantage
etc… about the army bases and the
positions.
Jangida cannot help wondering what a
strong power was backing up this woman.
Whoever this power was, he prayed that
she would be able to lead him and Mirage
out of this complicated danger.
“Now…” Meroda said. “Take off your
clothes.”
“What!” both exclaimed in unison,
looking at her as if they have seen a
ghost.
She searched her bag and brought out
three different old outfits and three
battered thinly woven apparels customary
around these regions. At last, she
produced three casual slippers.
Everything was made for women.
“Don`t you want to be a woman just for a
day?” she said as an invitation to get into
the outfits.
“No problem,.” Jangida answered with a
weak voice.
Mirage wore his dress fighting with a
temptation to laugh. “I think I`m going
to laugh right at the face of the first man
I run into, wearing these. Is there a
woman with a beard?” Mirage asked still
battling the urge to laugh.
“There are many,” replied Meroda.
“Do you swear?”
“Don`t bother, I`ll shave you clean and
then when I decorate your face with these
dyes, you will look exactly like a local
woman. Crease your fore head.”
“Do you want me to walk with a wrinkle
on my forehead all the time?”
“No, just do it. After I painted it with this
dye, it will look as if you had a wrinkle
even after when you eased it up. Then you
will look like an old woman.”
She did what she said; and when she gave
him a mirror to look at his face, he was
astonished. His face was transformed. She
put his bag in a sack and made him carry
it on his back with the apparel, the way
the local women carried their babies and
anything bulky. She gave him a cane to
lean on and trained him how to walk bent
like an old woman. She gave him a short
umbrella made for women. She made
Jangida carry his bulk on his head. She
held hers the same way Mirage carried his
and she led the way. Mirage followed next
and Jangida fell behind. Anybody who
looked at them would think that they
were women immigrants of war.
They went on along their way sometimes
chatting with each other when they were
on a free territory and moving in disguise
near danger zones. They have covered
most of the journey when they heard a
loud rattling sound behind them.
A ranger colored army helicopter was
closing in on them. At the tip of the open
entrance to the helicopter, a soldier
wearing huge earphone with a
mouthpiece aimed a long-range automatic
rifle and could be seen talking while at
the same time looking down at the rocky
terrain below.
The helicopter was flying low. The navy
soldier took off his large sunglasses and
began scanning the territory. Suddenly
three poorly dressed women flashed past
his line of vision. He quickly aimed the
heavy machine gun on them.
“What shall we do?” said Mirage.
“I`ve no idea!” Jangida replied with a
trace of frustration in his voice.
“Don`t show any sign of running.”
Meroda gave an order.
“But why don`t we run and hide along
the rocks.” Jangida protested.
“I said, don`t even think about it. Walk
calmly.”
“They`re closing in on us.”
“We can`t escape even if we run. Right
now we are locked in their target.”
A loud shattering blast went off. All three
stopped in their tracks and turned to the
direction of the chaotic sound. The
helicopter was on fire and going down at
a terrifying speed.
“Now we`ve to run like hell. Run!” said
Meroda. Mirage had no more self-
consciousness left in him to remember his
feminine role. He started sprinting
forward as straight backed as a hundred
meter athlete. Jangida followed behind
pulling his skirt up to his thighs.
The pilot ejected out just in time to land
on a small hill, about a hundred yards
away from the crash site.
“Was it an accident?” asked Mirage Still
running after her.
“No. it was shot down by enemy anti-
aircraft system.” Meroda answered. “I was
expecting this to happen. They were
flying inside enemy air space.”
By now, they have made it into a gorge
for cover. They waited until sunset hidden
in a cave along the side of the gorge,
designing a plan on how to enter the
Sudanese boarder.
“Ok girls,” Meroda suggested to her
friends, now in complete silence. “Aren`t
you tired of being women?”
“I thing, I`m beginning to like it. Don`t
you two think the dress goes well with
me?” said Mirage smiling, humorously,
unwinding his female strap from around
his waist.
“What do you say if we have something
for dinners?” she asked, bringing out
food tied in a plastic bag from her
luggage and spreading it before them.
Mirage and Jangida looked at each other
as if they do not know if they should
trust her completely. They have been
watching her every move with eyes of
suspicion.
“I got it,” she said reading their minds.
“You are afraid not to fall in my trap as
the guards did. Was I right? Believe me;
I`ve no reason to do anything against
you.”
She prepared a large roll - up from the
local cuisine, in a manner that women
might call a manly way of dining, and she
sent it into her mouth. The fact that she
tasted the food before them was an act of
assurance that it was not poisoned.
She kept talking and munching the food
at the same time, though maintaining her
decency. “Really, you did a big favor for
me. I owe you. If all those soldiers
succeeded in their dirty plan, I could have
died pissing blood until now. But you
were there for me.”
They waited until the darkness completely
prevailed, before their preparations for
the next part of the journey began. She
now produced `Jelebias` for them to
change out of their old women outfits.
They all knew that it was customary and
casual in Sudan to wear a `Jelebia` as in
any Arab – majority country. In addition,
they covered their faces with black veils
with only an opening for the eyes. Then
the trio made all the necessary
adjustments to disguise themselves as
normal citizens of Sudan.
“You should`ve no doubts at all about
the effectiveness of these techniques,” she
told them, “because I`ve tried and proved
them.”
She handed them Sudanese identification
cards. They were eyeing her, astonished
one more time. She never stops to amaze
them. Both I.D cards declare them as
female citizens of Sudan.
“Wait a minute,” said Jangida; it was easy
to guess what he wanted to know, from
the puzzled expression shadowed upon
his face.
Mirage backed him up, “Who really are
you?”
“I am Meroda, the cook.”
“Stop making fun.”
“I told you, now is not the time to talk
about this, she reminded them, keeping
their unanswered questions suspended in
their minds.
They set out again on their seemingly
unending journey, walking mile after mile
in the stark darkness. There was hardly
any light enough to see their steps.
Therefore, they could not help stumbling
and falling several times whenever they
came across uneven ground. After about
four hours of walking, they arrived near
the border at a distance of approximately
four hundred meters from the Sudanese
border - sentries.
“Stop!” Meroda said suddenly. “We are
approaching_” she searched her bag to
produce fragments of electronics parts.
Miraculously she assembled them into a
radio transmitter. She switched it on and
begun talking in English. After some
time, there was a voice speaking on the
radio.
“We are on the rendezvous point. We are
at the suddenness boarder now. Over!”
she spoke.
“Can you please identify yourself? Over!”
the voice was firm.
“I`m four - six - six. Over!”
“You must come alone. You can come to
the boarder now. Over and Out!” the
voice gave her the clearance.
Meroda told them to wait for her and
started toward the coast guards.
Silence prevailed all around.
The car was at a standstill flashing its
headlights but the engine had gone dead.
Inside it sat men holding kalashnikov
rifles. One of the men, from the back seat
- a Caucasian - came out of the car and
became engaged in a conversation with
their leader. After a time he went to
Meroda.
“You can bring all your men and luggage
right now!” he told her.
Meroda quickly returned to where Mirage
was waiting for her with Jangida. She told
them to follow her and all went into the
car.

It took them a few weeks to come to

terms with the fact that Meroda really
worker for the CIA. They stayed at an
apartment that Meroda rented in
Khartoum. After a few more weeks in the
hot city, they went to live in Los Angles.
Jangida was able to receive his medical
degree from Addis Ababa University with
a lot of trouble. Mirage spent some time
working as a gardener before starting
studying medicine with a great help from
Jangida who was working as a medical
practitioner.
He completed his studies remarkably
within a very short time not only because
of his disciplined life style in the
monastery but also because of the
interest he developed towards healing
those in pain from what he`d seen during
his years as a soldier.
It did not take long for Mirage to go up
to the level of a top surgeon. His close
relationship with Jangida remained as
ever. Mirage occasionally visited Jangida
at the Austin Medical centre.
Meroda was the only person who broke
the persistence silence in Mirage`s
apartment during her infrequent visits.
Even she was not showing up at all these
days.

Bare backed; Dr. Mirage would stand in

front of a mirror looking at the tattoo,
studying it until his neck went painful
from the strain of turning around. It
read, DERTOGADA in the ancient
Ethiopian letters “”.
Why was it tattooed on my skin? On Engineer
Shagiz`s too? He would ask himself. I think
we have something in common.
Now, after he spent some time thinking
about the tattoo, he shifted his attention
to Engineer Shagiz and his heart surgery.
“I will solve the puzzle concerning these
two matters.”
He was still conversing with himself
when the phone rang. He picked it up.
“Hello!”
“Hello! Dr. Mirage!”
“How are you, Engineer Shagiz?” Mirage
answered immediately recognizing the
voice he was longing to talk to.
“I`m driving down street 101. I`ll be
waiting for you at the rendezvous point.”
“Ok engineer. I`ll be there right away.”
He said. Hurriedly, he set the phone
down and went to get dressed. As usual,
he put on his blue Jeans and a white T-
shirt and started to the elevator. He got
into his blue 2001-model Prado and
drove in the direction of street 101.
CHAPTER 4
SANTA MONICA

LOS ANGLES
The setting sun created a marvelous sight
at the far end of the pacific horizon. The
reddish yellow rays reflected upon the
ocean, honoring it with brilliant colors
that made anyone think about an ocean
of molten gold. Again and again, its
golden waves hastened to the sandy
shore, only to go back after sprinkling
some of its glory on the backs of the
almost nude bodies of women lying down
on the beach. The beauty of nature
seemed at its maximum.
Santa Monica sounded as lively as ever
with the sweet laughers of young men
and women. The men mostly sat in
groups talking, as spectacles to one of the
highly popular shows on earth-the
arousing voluptuous bodies of women
with the power of completely
surrendering one`s curiosity.
However, doctor Mirage and engineer
Shagiz were heedless of the scene on the
beach, their minds preoccupied with one
common interest. A white man sat along
with them. His yellowish teeth and
ghostly complexion along with his skinny
body, everything about him was as a
zombie out of its grave. He has
succeeded in the business of tattooing
since seventeen years ago. He talked very
quickly.
Soon a white speeding Cadillac came to a
sudden stop. Four men came out from the
four simultaneously opened doors and
went into the park. One of them begun
talking to a transmitter he wore on his
wrist as a watch, keeping his eyes fixed on
the three men.
“Dov you know?” the tattoo specialist
spoke to the two Africans in a Russian
accent, “America is the centre of tattoo
design. Especially since 1891, a time when
the first patent was given to an electronic
tattooing device, he cleared his throat
repeatedly. He lighted a cigar and
continued. “Many native Americans
tattooed their bodies and faces as a
custom. In addition, there are some tribes
in the state of California, who tattooed
their bodies with various colors. In New
Zealand, there are tribes who made
tattoos on their bodies using a fractured
animal bone. The Ayenu tribe in Japan,
the Ebo tribe in Nigeria, the Senoia tribe
in Mali and the Pima Indians in Arizona
made curving tattoos by stinging their
bodies with a pin or a thorn.”
Both were giving him their full attentions.
“You know?” he continued pulling in his
cigarette. “Tattoos were also discovered
on the mummified remains of Egyptian
dead bodies. Ancient Greek and Roman
authors wrote about the custom of
tattooing among Greeks, French,
Germans and the English.
“For what purpose did they use
tattooing?” asked Mirage after listening
for a long moment. However, Shagiz did
not seem to have much interest about this
tattoo business. He seemed to examine
doctor Mirages intentions deeply.
Around here, people tattooed the names
of their loved ones. Some tattooed the
year of their birthday. They also tattooed
designs that we do not know. He lit
another cigar putting out the one that
burned out completely between his
fingers.
“Do you`ve anything else to tell us about
tattoos?” Mirage asked him. Mirage was
always curious about mysterious things.
He used to say. “I`m more curious about
some enigmatic junk than a diamond I
can find in the open.”
“Something else?” he said, dragging at his
cigar with a love comparable to a child`s
to its mother`s breasts. “The Romans
made tattoos on their criminals and
slaves.”
The two looked at each other. Criminals
and slaves used to have taboos! We
cannot be criminals. Now there is no
more slavery. Perhaps we had escaped
from slavery. Was there slavery during
King Ras Teferi? Mirage thought.
The Russian went on, “To tell you the
truth, some people came to me with
designs I don`t even know and ask me to
tattoo them.”
Doctor Mirage pulled up the T-shirt he
was wearing, to show the specialist the
tattoo on his back and covered it again.
“Have you ever seen a tattoo like this?”
he asked him.
“Let me see it again!” said the specialist.
When Mirage uncovered his tattoo, he
extended his slight neck, stretching it
until it resembled a turkey`s. He studied
the sign for a long while. He could not
make out the strange letters that
constituted the word `Dertogada`
[ዴርቶጋዳ].
“Sorry, I don`t know anything about
this.” he said, gazing upon the numerals
inscribed on the huge sign in the shape of
the third letter ቶ. “I don`t think the
numbers on the tattoo were placed
randomly. The numbers on this sign
could be secret codes to something
mysterious. I guess. It`ll be a lot better if
you discuss it with the person who made
it.”
“The person who made the tattoo on us
is not alive at the moment,” said Shagiz.
He was amazed when they told him; the
tattoo was made on both of them in
exactly the same way.
“I guess you two have something secret in
common,” he said, stamping the cigar out
with the sole of his shoe.
The Russian was intently looking at
Shagiz with an expression that showed
his desire of intimacy with him. If only
engineer Shagiz were as interested as the
doctor was, he could have won his favor.
However, the engineer had almost no
interest about the tattoo.
After they bade farewell to the tattoo
specialist, they remained as they were,
contemplating the matter in silence.
“By the way, while I was in the monastery,
a monk told me about Ethiopian tattoos.”
said Mirage just to break the silence.
“What did the monk tell you?” said
Shagiz coming back to reality.
“Ethiopian Orthodox Christians tattooed
their Christian names on their bodies, so
that they remembered it. They also think
that they shall get a proper burial service
if they were to die on a strange land.”
Mirage replied trying to remember what
the monk told him a long time ago.
“Yea, I remember something else…
Ethiopians has kept changing their names
in every age. For example in the age of
the Old Testament, their names were
individually different. Meaning one would
not be called with someone else`s name.
`Abraham` used to be the only
`Abraham`, but in our generation, we
know many people called `Abraham`. The
only `Abraham` I knew, who bear the
name alone was the Abraham in the bible.
But the problem is how this was
connected with tattoos.”
“So what else did he tell you about the
tattoos?”
“After the birth of Christ, these
Ethiopians were given Christian names
when they were baptized. They were
called; Gebre-Eyesus, Welete-Mariam,
Tekle-Haimanot, Gebre-Selasie. Later on,
during the crusade, while they were being
hunted down and killed, using their
names as a means to identify them they
were forced to change their names into
common names such as Hailae, Kebede,
Ababe and so on. The generation we are
now, living in, first inherited these names
following the custom. Therefore, a tattoo
has a special as well as secretive meaning
among Ethiopians. If tattoos were used
by Christians to conceal their identities
during times of persecution, then it is
possible that they`ve hidden their other
secrets with tattoos too.” Mirage tried to
find a connection with his tattoo, but
nothing seemed to fit in place.
“Do you know anything about the middle
sign `ቶ` (Toä)? Perhaps it is better to try
to find its meaning from its alphabetical
point of view,” said Shagiz gazing
towards Mirage with eyes as penetrating
as an eagle`s.
“I recall reading about it on an ancient
Ethiopian book with pages made out of
thinly tanned goat skin - the Berana.”
answered Mirage. “According to the
book, the seventh replication of the tenth
letter in the Ge`ez alphabet represented
man and Christ. `ቶ` is the symbol of life.
In the ancient central parts of Ethiopia,
as it was written there used to be a temple
built to worship the sun god in Karan.
The Eastern wall was decorated with
diamonds, emeralds, gold as well as many
other rare precious stones. Below these,
two statues of lionesses, made out of
Gold, are found. Just above them, the two
letters were seen drawn. The book
explained that, the sign `ቶ` designates the
first man and Christ. And that it is the
sign of life.”
“By the way, once I went to attend a
technological meeting in Egypt, I
remember looking at this sign while I
toured around some ancient graves,” said
engineer Shagiz.
“Yes, you might have seen it. Because, a
long time ago Egypt used to be under the
care of Ethiopia`s administration.
Egyptians at one time went to the point
of worshiping Ethiopians. Ancient
Egyptian Kemets used to believe that the
Nile originated from under the
mountains of the moon. Moreover, as
Ethiopia is the source of Nile, they
associated Ethiopians with gods and
goddesses. They mentioned on their
Hieroglyphics and other manuscripts, the
fact that, their knowledge about the
architecture of pyramids and temples,
astronomy, mathematics and other
wisdoms were taught to them by their
gods and goddesses, and by people who
dwelled North of Egypt - below the
Mountains of the Moon. This is a strong
circumstantial evidence that the same sign
you saw held by their gods and goddesses
on the paintings, also originated from the
land of their gods below the Mountains
of the Moon - Ethiopia.”
As you have just said, the symbol is one
of the 133 letters in the Ethiopian
alphabet. I also know that the symbol was
modified into one type of cross. What`s
more, it is normal for girls in Northern
Ethiopia to have this letter tattooed on
their foreheads, especially in Wollo and
Begae Medir.” Shagiz said to add
whatever little he knew about the subject.
“But the symbol on our tattoos is
populated with something else too. I
think it looks like a key.” Mirage
speculated noticing that the symbol
resembled a kind of key.
“Or, maybe a key to unlock something
secret - a code?”
“How about the rest of the symbols?”
“I guess the word Dertogada held general
information; a lead about this secret.”
Their discussion on solving the puzzle
went on for some time. Then the doctor
felt he should be concerned about the
engineer`s health more than trying to
solve a difficult mystery.
He took a deep breath, “So, how is your
heart now? Is it getting better?”
“I am used to recovering quickly. I will
definitely have another surgery after two
months. I`ll be on a continuous surgery
as long as a lasting solution can be
discovered to treat my heart.”
“Engineer,” said Mirage as if there is
something bothering him. “There are two
things I would like to do right now.”
“Can you tell me what?” asked Engineer
Shagiz.
“First of all I want to find a solution for
your heart problem. The problem you are
facing just when you were beginning to
attend to the problems of your poor
country shall not only be your personal
problem, but a problem for all Ethiopians
who have a sense of well-being to their
country. Doing a quarter of what you
have done to flourish the over-
development of America, could be
enough to yank that poor country out of
poverty for good. The country will have a
chance to take the first step towards
moving along technological development,
if only able citizens just like you stood by
her in unison.
In 1948, Israel was rebuilt with the efforts
of only very few Zionists who have the
love and the commitment to bring their
nation into life. What it takes to make a
change is not necessarily the efforts of
the multitude, but the efforts of a few
determined individuals. And, you are one
of the most determined individual I`ve
ever known. Jesus chose only twelve
disciples to herald the Gospel to the
whole world. Likewise, only few of her
committed citizens will be enough to
rebuilt Ethiopia. These committed few,
will inspire millions behind them. That is
why; saving you shall be my first priority.
The second issue of importance is my
task to uncover the secret behind the
tattoos on our backs__” he paused,
thinking about a third very important but
personal matter.
He has been thinking about searching for
Zipporah, but where could he search?
That was, the other puzzle that he should
solve. He even thought about the
weirdest ways of posting a `MISSING`
ad, “There are more than six billion
people in the world, half of them are
women. So how in the world are you
going to find her?” Jangida once joked
about his intent. But, Mirage never found
it in his heart to forget her.
“Anyway you should be careful. Take care
of yourself and we`ll do everything else
wisely.” said Shagiz. “…Wisdom shall
cover your eyes, but care shall protect
you.” The bible says.”
As they went to their cars talking, the
four men sitting in their sunglasses
followed them to their own cars.
Doctor Mirage bade good-bye to the
engineer and started driving towards his
apartment. The white Cadillac with the
four men was following him at a safe
distance. As he curbed out of highway
101 into an avenue leading to his
neighborhood the white Cadillac did the
same. He slowed down to let it pass, but
the Cadillac also slowed down still
following him. He tried to look at the
faces of the people inside the automobile
through their reflections in his side
mirror. He could not identify their faces
hidden behind sunglasses.
He parked his car, went up to his
apartment and curiously watched the
Cadillac from his window, which came to
a halt under the building. Just then, a
huge explosion went on in the parking lot
of the building. He was later shocked to
discover there was a bomb planted in his
car. A moment after the explosion, police
cars swarmed the neighborhood.
The Cadillac was nowhere in sight. The
police found no one except Mirage, to
interrogate.
“Do you know anything about what had
just happened?”
“I don`t know anything about it.”
“Ok. You must come with us.”
“Why?”
“We need your statement.”
“What statement?”
“We`ll talk about it when we get there.
You must give your statement.”
The police cars disappeared with Mirage
flashing their blue and red lights.

CHAPTER 5

Doctor Mirage got back from giving his

statement to the police. He was going
through his mail when he found an
envelope with no address. He looked at it
in suspicion for some time, then before
he opened it, a thought came to his mind.
He called doctor Jangida at his hospital.
Since he was not working right now, he
was thinking could find a job with him.
“Hello!” Mirage said.
“Good afternoon, Austin medical center.”
“Yes, Good afternoon. What can we do
for you, sir?” a woman`s voice answered.
“Can you put me through to doctor
Jangida`s office?”
“Sorry sir, but it`s been eight weeks since
doctor Jangida signed in for work.
Haven`t you been listening to the news?”
He could not believe what he heard next.
He hung up in a state of absolute shock.
“Oh my God!” exclaimed Mirage almost
panicking.
Unconsciously he picked up the remote
controller and put on the TV, as if the
news broadcasted two months ago was
now on air again just for him. There was
a bra advertisement on the first channel.
He started at the girl who was doing the
ad, as if she had Jangida with her. He
blindly stared at the ad, deep in
confusion, until she took off the bra from
her rounded cute breasts walked almost
naked toward the man waiting for her in
bed, until the man snatched away the bra
she had thrown on the bed, placed it over
his chest and took her in his arms and
under the covers laughing.
Now he was more curious about the mail
with no address. He opened it and quickly
unfolded the paper he found enclosed. It
was empty. Nothing was written on it.
“What is this?” he shouted hysterical.”
Who is trying to drive me to insanity?” he
pounded the top of the table with his fist
in anger. He looked at the books on the
shelves; maybe he could find the answer
to this other puzzle in them.
Suddenly his attention was completely
taken away to the screen. The news had
started. A seemingly nervous anchor
wearing a black Beatles repeatedly turned
her long white neck from side to side, as
she read the news.
The news was making him freeze with
awe.
“The famous tattooist, Mr. Michael
Davidovich was killed yesterday evening
in an explosion set off on his automobile.
Mr. Davidovich has been a prime figure
in the lucrative tattoo business for the last
seventeen years. Californian police
disclosed that he was on his way back to
his apartment after a private meeting with
two men. Another bomb mounted on
Doctor Mirage`s car - one of the two
men who were with Mr. Michael that
evening - went off setting his car on fire,
just at the moment he parked it to go into
his apartment. The doctor had survived
with no injuries. The police department
also promised to apprehend the
perpetrators of this terrorist act to justice
and gave a notice to the public to take
great care and report any kind of
suspicious individuals to the police...
After the news was over, he realized he
was sweating heavily. He wiped some of it
away from his forehead using his palm
and sat there resting his jaws on his
hands. It was all beyond his emotional
threshold.
“What is happening?” he asked himself.
“Who is trying to trap me? Why was the
tattoo specialist killed? Who mounted the
bomb on my car?” he was insanely
shouting unconsciously.
“Didn`t you realize you were putting
your nose in something you can`t
possibly have the power to see it through,
doctor?” said a voice from behind him.
He turned to the direction where it came
from to stand face to face with a man
wearing a black mask holding a gun
pointed at him.
Mirage held his breath and said, “What?”
“You heard me. You are a hypocrite.
Insane doctor!” he sent his finger to the
trigger.
“I don`t understand. It`d be better if you
lower that thing and we talked about it_”
said doctor Mirage trying to cool down
the killer behind the mask.
“I`m beginning to understand that you
are sick. It is the biggest joke of our
world to see sick people trying to treat
other sick people.
“Listen …why we don`t understand each
other?”
“Don`t move. Stay where you are!”
“What is happening?”
“This is what`s happening. What you are
left with before your self-destruction is
only to wait for me to pull the trigger.
But, I don`t think this foolishness will
help you live in hell even. You can`t find
fools like you in hell.”
“You see…”
“Shut up! Why do you need the engineer?
Do you want to yolk him up and plough
your land with him? Is the money we
donate you enough to buy farm animals?
Why don`t you leave him alone and use
your donkeys? Bon voyage! I`m sending
you to hell, where there are no doctors
and patients, doc…” he started squeezing
the trigger but something would not
allow him. He fell face down to the floor.
Behind the disguised killer, Mirage saw
Meroda standing with a smoking gun
with a silencer. He looked at her as
though she were his guardian angel sent
from the heavens. She came close to the
killer lying across the floor and sent a
second bullet through his heart.
She went to Mirage and put her arms
around him. “We`ve to get out of here
fast.” She told him. “Pack up only what
you need most, very quickly.”
“My car had an accident, haven`t you
heard?” Mirage said as she embraced him
close to his chest.
“I know that.” She answered. “I brought
a truck with me.”
“Did you know this was going to
happen?” he seemed to have forgotten
that she was a CIA agent.
“Of course I did.” She said amazed.
“Who are these people?”
“They are C.I.A.”
“Wait a minute, how?”
“Because of your involvement with that
man_”
“Which man?”
“Let me tell you two things. The first
one… you started snooping around
engineer Shagiz`s heart case. Second, you
were seen repeatedly with the engineer,
even though you were fired from the
hospital. Therefore, they wanted to stop
you. It was decided to take care of you! I
mean get rid of you.”
“And what was the reason for murdering
the tattoo specialist?”
“He had a connection with the KGB. The
CIA discovered that he had made a deal
with the Russians about something just
before he met you.”
“What was the deal about?”
“When the Russian techno-agents knew
that the tattoo specialist had connections
with engineer Shagiz; they paid him a
large sum of money so that he would
help them to abduct him. What`s more,
the tattooist was born Russian. Therefore,
a decision was made to get rid of him. By
the way, you two were not the only ones
targeted for elimination.”
“Is there someone else?”
“Correction, there are others. “Indians,
Palestinians Japanese, Israelites, Chinese
and Iranians are waiting for the right time
to abduct him. Even Ethiopian secret
service men are following him.”
“Did you say Ethiopian secret service?”
“Yes. Ethiopian secret service”
“Why on earth do they want him for?”
“To eliminate him”
“By God! Why?”
“The man is involved in Ethiopian
politics.”
“So, is it not his country?” Mirage said
incredulously. “They should be handling
him with care. Whatever political
opinions he may have, the country should
be welcoming him with open arms and
use his knowledge. His attitudes are his
and only his. Do you think all these
countries are after him because they are in
love with him? How could his own
country slam its door on his face? How
could his own people seek to kill him?”
he was becoming outrageous.
“You don`t understand it at all,” said
Meroda, showing him her sour smile.
“The political struggle he initiated is not
a peaceful one. He had waged war on the
government.
That`s what I was trying to tell you.”
“That is wrong. I know the man very
well.”
“He might not have it in him, but I think
there was influenced by people around
him.”
“Even in that case, eliminating him
shouldn`t have been considered an
option. The country may not have an
advanced space research centre and a
shuttle launch platform, but it somehow
could have managed to use his expertise
in the fields of modern satellite and radar
technologies. Think about it for a
moment. If this man could train even a
hundred citizens of Ethiopia, couldn`t he
have added to the technological
development of the country just because
he transferred his knowledge?”
“Again there is something else you don`t
understand.”
“I don`t need to understand it.”
“Anyway the United States needed him
more. He held some other top national
secret behind his task NASA had
assigned to him. As long as he had access
to its confidential information`s about its
long-range missiles, radars, satellites,
scientific research centers and many other
defense technologies, it will keep him
under a strict watch. Vultures are always
roaming around him, waiting for his
guardians` eyes to falter.
If he made contact with anyone he
thought as a friend or anassassin -whether
that person is from his own country or
not-that individual will be eliminated,
especially if considered a threat to the
engineer. However, you escaped. Do you
know why the bomb exploded after you
left your car? Let us say its remote
detonator fell into my hands. I was in the
back seat of the white Cadillac with the
men who were following you. I pushed
the detonating button after making sure
you`ve safely reached your apartment on
the 7th floor.”
She knew, the CIA would respond harshly
about her act of insubordination. Danger
was waiting for her but what else could
she have done! She loved him.
“Meroda the cook, you never stop to
amaze me,” he said smiling at her.
“You`ve been my guardian angel since
our adventure at the army base in
Ethiopia.” They continued packing while
in their hot conversation.
“More than anything else,” Mirage said. “I
am not going anywhere without my
books.”
“You better chose some of them and let`s
go, you can`t take everything with you.”
“I can`t do that, never! I can`t leave any
of them. I owe every book in here. You
can`t imagine how much they mean to
me!”
“Is there anything else you mustn`t
forget?” She said when they`ve packed
and loaded everything he needed in the
back of the truck parked in the garage.
“Yes. I forgot to bring my guitar. My
guitars!” he corrected himself.
“Your guitars?” she asked him. “How
many are they?”
“Last time an old Ethiopian man gave me
another guitar. I never told you. The man
always came to the pacific shore to watch
me play. A week ago, he gave me the
guitar as a token of his appreciation. He
told me something. What was it?” he
asked himself.
“What did he tell you?” she asked him,
positioning the packages in order at the
back of the truck.
“Yes. He told me to keep the guitar with
me until the end of my life. He said
Don`t lose it. And don`t give it away. I
never gave anything like this in my life to
anyone before. One day you will enter the
deepest of mysteries guided by the
melody of this guitar. Strange! ”
“Do you know the man?”
“No, I don`t. But when he gave me the
guitar he`d said `I`ve been looking for you! I
found you at last!` I asked him why he was
looking for me. He said. `To give you this
guitar.`” Then he disappeared to
nowhere.
“He must be some psycho, or a guitar
loving Rasta man.” She said in a carefree
manner.
“I don`t know. The man seemed a
respected elder. Anyway, I`ll keep it with
me. Let me bring it.”
He brought back the guitar.
 CHAPTER 6

NEW YORK CITY

USA
More than a day had gone by, since their
arrival at her apartment situated on a side
road facing the UN square. They spent
the entire time unpacking doctor
Mirage`s belongings and placing them
orderly in her apartment. It took all her
shelves to contain the books he chose to
bring. The seclusion and silence of her
apartment imparted just the kind of
peacefulness he wanted. Mirage “The
Monastic” loved silence. Quietness made
his mind tranquil. He was taking a shower
now that they were done with the task.
Meroda`s apartment did not have a
womanly look. The usual feminine
materials of beauty were nowhere in
sight. But the light from the dimly lit
bulbs provided an exceptional appeal to
the eyes, reflected from the brilliant
golden colored couch and the
comfortable chairs made with similar
fabric. Meroda did not like intense lights.
She even preferred darkness. She had
always been avoiding the sun. Her job
needed the disguise of darkness. The
covert operations of the CIA she was
assigned on for so many times, made her
used to moving in the darkness. She was
perfectly all right with life in darkness.
Her life could have become an eternity of
darkness, if the CIA had not recruited
her. Prostitution would have been her
fate. But her dark fate never changed. It
had gotten her into another dark life.
Many years back, her mother had sold her
body disguised with the night in the dark
corners of Addis Ababa. She would
always remember the time she started the
life she was now living. She never knew
her father. How could she, if her mom
never exactly knew him either? Despite
this, she would say, “It is better this way.”
Old age began to put its toll upon her
mom. As her mother`s face wrinkled
beyond the restoring powers of makeups,
all her mother`s lovers ceased their visits
one by one.
Meroda tasted the bitterness of her
mother`s painful life at an early age. Her
poor mother sold all her belongings and
took Meroda with her to Bahr Dar town
where she heard there would be jobs
enough for everyone. It was a time when
Meroda failed her high school exams
unable to join any college. This was a fact
that made her life worse even. She was
catapulted to another failure with the
force of her life of misery. Her mother
did not say a word all the way from Addis
Ababa to Bahir Dar a journey of 800
miles by bus. She even had no knowledge
of where they were going. They have had
a fight the day before. Her mother was
not a woman of decency to be envious
about… Her failure made it worse. She
used an insulting language terrible to the
ears.
Even a few days after they arrived in
Bahir Dar, she did say to Meroda, “Was I
paying for your education for all these
years, so that you could fail?” what she
heard about the abundance of jobs for
her ears only. She had thought about
getting on with her old job where nobody
knew her. She never found what she
hoped for in life. The rumor about Bahir
Dar being swarmed with soldiers…to the
point that the whores in the city wouldn`t
be enough to them, even if all women in
Bahir Dar went into prostitution; was
what brought her there. But she found
not even one soldier. Her hopelessness
and frustration went up all the way as far
as contemplating suicide and death wish.
She told Meroda then, “I`ve nothing else
to give you, prostitution was the only
trade I knew and I was trained for. So,
there is nothing else for you to pursue
except it! That is it. From now on, what
good is someone who was learnt to fail?
What makes you better than the dumb
stupid ignorant? We both have nothing
else, except our vaginas. So make your
little soft thing ready. We have exhausted
mine; let it rest. Even if it still has some
energy left, nobody would come near it. It
has gotten old and has sealed itself. We
have been eating out of its sale. You were
educated by the money from its income.
Now that you are old enough, I`m going
to retire. I gave up. The pimp told me
that your first customer is a white man.”
Meroda was listening with tears trickling
down her cheeks. Tears of frustration…
tears of failure... tears of fear…
“Give him an excellent service. Be
whatever he`d like you to be…” her mom
was telling this to her while they were
standing on the huge bridge above the
Nile, looking down at the furiously
dashing water with a brown color as it`s
symbol of mercilessness to take anything
along its way-even the land.
“There he comes!” She said to Meroda.
“The pimp is here, go with him. Ask the
white man to pay you a good amount of
money. But, you don`t need to worry
about me. My life is not worth living
anymore. You must live your own life,
until you became an old woman just like
me.”
Meroda suspected if this woman was
really her mother, one more time. Meroda
knew that the woman never thought twice
about what she said. It filled her with
contempt to hear her words of indecency.
Perhaps, it is what the job required she
used to think. She would have left her
mom long ago, if she had somewhere to
go.
Suddenly the woman`s voice shifted to a
sad tone. “What else do I have to give
you? I hoped you would make my life
better after you graduated. When you
failed, my hope failed with it. Don`t
worry about me…live your own life,” her
mother told her. Then she looked down
to the raging river and without a second`s
hesitation, she threw herself down.
“Mom!” cried Meroda and started to
jump behind her mother, just in time for
the pimp to grab her hand and keep her
from gliding down. The Nile streamed
away taking her mother along with all the
garbage and logs of trees it mercilessly
ripped out of life. The pimp took her by
her arm forcefully into a taxi and away to
the city against her cries and struggles to
follow her mother to hell.
The same night the pimp sold her to the
white man. She was still crying and
helpless to know what would be the right
thing to do.
“She is a virgin, sir!” the pimp told the
white man, when he handed him a bundle
of dollars out of his pocket.
“You`ve already told me about that,” said
the white man, in perfect English.
“So, more…pay more.” the pimp said in a
way that made him look as if he was
trying his best to remember the few
vocabulary he knew.
The white man gave him additional dollar
notes. He said good-bye to the white man
and was gone in a moment; satisfied.
Meroda had seen the doctor prior to that
time, repeatedly. He used to come to their
village where they lived in a rented old
house. Usually he sat in a local pub right
in front of their old house and peck at
their door that was usually open. Meroda
often looked away in shame when he
looked at her continuously. At those
times, she thought he had sexual feelings
about her. Now she belonged to him. She
was expecting in fear, what he would do
to her the next moment. But he kept her
in his apartment for about a month in
spite of her fears of sexual abuse; he
finally took her with him to Kenya. She
found herself in a special training facility
in Kenya. She went into a basic
intelligence-training program and
acquired the skills of weapons usage,
camouflaging, information collecting,
covert operation, dressing and a lot more
other tiring techniques of espionage.
Then he took her back to Ethiopia.
After some time, she was assigned on an
undercover mission as a cook in the
Ethiopian army, at the Northern front.
She stood against the system that forced
her mother to live in poverty selling her
body for a living. It was a tit for a tat. She
gave away confidential information with
no trace of guilty conscience that she
hauled out of sexually lustful, high
ranking officers. She was cooking for the
army and the CIA at the same time.
Her voluptuous body had the power to
surrender even a monk of unworldly
intentions. For her, attracting the sexually
thirsty, desert burned soldiers who were
easy to arouse, was a trivial task. There
was no male soul in that army who would
refuse to have a piece of her erotically
designed, beautiful body. She often
thought, nothing could trap a monk and a
soldier except sex. Her body was the trap
she used.
Since then, Meroda the fisher lived in the
darkness as her disguise. She had changed
her dwelling several times. Los Angeles,
Virginia near the CIA headquarters
building; Philadelphia, Oklahoma,
Washington DC and other states in
addition to New York City. She would not
hesitate to move anywhere if a situation
dictated her.
Doctor Mirage`s whole life was a story
she know like the palm of her hand. He
had told her everything about himself.
She always wished if he could forget
Zipporah.
But she couldn`t make him do it. He
could never desire her luscious body. She
implored him for many years time after
time, to make her his. He persisted on
saying `No`. His reluctance made her
want him more. It made the price of
being loved high until she finally
imagined that reluctance made love costly.
But she never gave up.
Today he will have to decide. She said to
herself, and barged in through the
bathroom door stark naked, to where he
was standing - obviously naked - taking a
shower. Her sudden nude appearance
created a funny reaction upon him.
“What the hell! What is wrong with you?”
he exclaimed surprised, covering his
maleness with both hands. Laughing, she
came closer to him. He could see that this
was her genuine alluring smile. He
wondered where that dry smile of hers
had gone. The opening between her
beautifully arranged teeth seemed to him
a door to happiness. Now he knew
beyond any doubt that her body was a
masterpiece shaped for love and
surrendering men as well as for
vengeance. Her hair was shortly cut in
men`s vogue. It had a sparkling dark
color that perfectly fitted her small round
skull generating a sense of beauty all
around her. He had never seen her eyes
call upon the karma of sex, before today.
She kindled a flame of sexual desire
inside him, when she came closer and
almost touching his chest with her firm
breasts. He thought his heart was about
to burst as it pounded against his chest in
fast strong rhythm. He started breathing
deeply.
His breath came out in smog mixed with
the hot steam from the bathroom,
burning her face. He felt her breath on
his lips betraying the flame of desire
burning inside her too. The little room
filled up with steaming lust. Her lips -
now plump red with the moment`s
stimulation - came close to his like a
blooming red rose. She sealed his lips
with hers. Now he cannot say a word. He
was numb with desire. This was a
language from some other dialect, he
could not understand. She locked his
tongue with hers. Her two arms went
around his neck making him helpless
under the power of their spell.
She cornered him close to the wall. He
lost every single nerve of reasoning from
his mind. He was unable to comprehend
anything. Her breasts were pushing his
chest painfully. Her waist flexed into his
groin, her thighs were wide apart, taking
in one of his between them. His desire
finally transformed itself into a horn
charging at her groin.
“Do you remember the time you saved
me from the soldiers?” she asked him
breathless, keeping her eyes on his.
“But I never saved you to satisfy my
desire with you.”
“It`s okay, you can. My darling, my soul
yearns for you. I want you to put out the
fire between my thighs.”
“I can`t. This is fornication.”
“No, my darling. It can`t be.”
“Meroda, you are leading me into
something that`s not right.”
“No Mira. I am leading you into
something right, into love__” She said
breathing heavily. Both were gasping for
breath. “You are hurting me Mirage. You
are wounding me. You are burning me
alive. It`s better if you killed me.”
“Love is always once. And sex without
love is…”
“Don`t you… don`t you love me while I
love you this much?”
“There is a woman I love as much.”
“There isn`t a woman. There is no spirit
called Zipporah at all in this world. You
are living in a dream world. Zipporah is a
nightmare.”
“Do you think love is something you can
undo so easily?...Even if I tried it`s scars
would always haunt me. It`ll lash back at
me_ But I can never undo her love.”
“Oh my God! Enough! Leave me alone!”
she can no longer control the emotions
boiling inside her. Now, she gave up on
him. As he obediently left the bathroom,
she slammed the door behind him. She
slowly slid her fingers down to her
groin…
He could hear her breathing heavily.
Moments later, he heard her gasping with
ecstasy followed by the sound of water
running. He knew she has now some
relief. That she was now calmed down.
She went out of the bathroom and went
straight to her bed. She lied down
exhausted.
“Cruel!” She said. “Stubborn monk!”
Soon she was asleep.
CHAPTER 7

The next morning he woke up from the

couch where he spent the night on, to
prepare breakfast. Meroda was in bed. She
was still in bed when he was done
preparing breakfast - scrambled eggs with
toasts and orange juice for two. Perhaps
she did not want to wake up. Mirage went
to the bedroom, sat on the edge of the
bed and gazed down at her for a moment.
She was in deep sleep, beauty radiating all
over her. Except her small round head
and short black hair, the rest of her body
was under the white silk sheets. Her lips
were slightly parted betraying her sign of
beauty as mall space between two of the
upper front teeth, just in their middle.
Her hips made a smooth, delicate
elevation under the sheets, in the likeness
of chained snow-covered mountains. Her
waist seemed to sink in the mattress as if
it was dislocated. It vanished below the
mound of her hip, creating a delicate
cleft. She looked like she was posing for a
photo shoot rather than sleeping. Mirage
did not want to disturb this piece of art.
He brought his new guitar and begun
playing a soft note to harmoniously
match the sleeping beauty. She stirred and
opened her eyes slowly, that met his. At
first, she thought about an angle praising
his Lord with a song. The white suit he
wore that morning and the matching
whiteness of his teeth, she saw when he
smiled at her, kept her a few seconds
before deciding he was really Mirage-the
mortal.
She knew the note he was playing. It was
a love song. A song played originally by a
local musician Menilik Wassenachew – a
local singer.

“…Love never grows old

Love never grows old;
Though beauty kept withering
And the body went on ageing.
As she listened, rage suddenly filled her
blood. He was singing for Zipporah, not
to her.
“You think it never grows old? Wrong!”
she said, “Nerd! Was it why you woke me
up? So that I`ll listen to the song you play
for Zipporah.”
He showed her his white teeth and
continued playing the song.
She believed that, love never gave back.
Love was just love, nothing more. She
shook her head sadly and kept silent.
“…Love never grows old
Love never grows old
Though beauty kept withering
And the body went ageing…”
The envious rage returned when she
heard him say the words. “Do you think
you can teach me about love,
Shakespeare?”
“Does Shakespeare know Zipporah?” he
replied with a question. “Shakespeare
wasn`t in the love shoe I wore. It was
because Englishmen of Shakespeare`s
time were full of pride, that love was
highly exaggerated. In fact, authors that
came after him wrote about a sensible
love without infatuation. Anyway, I
admire the English with all their pride.
They appreciate their own people. They
made their fellowmen heroes, with their
applause. Because, they know that the
Supremacy of England depends not only
on its politicians but also on its
influential people. Therefore, they clap
their hands to youngsters who have not
done great thing yet. Otherwise, what
would England be without Shakespeare
and his likes? On the exact opposite side,
we are seen persecuting and driving away
our own people. We Ethiopians are poor
appreciators. We create frustration on our
people with unlawful critics and abusive
detraction. We are not blessed with
accepting the young with compliment. We
also do not want to accept new ideas and
new sciences. We push these away like
enemies. That is why Ethiopians are still
grinding their wheat on a stone mill they
used eons ago. They are reluctant to talk
about anything, if they do not have the
knowledge about it. Do not be like them
too. I don`t have to be Shakespeare just
to tell you that I love Zipporah.”
He went on playing:-
“…love never grows old
Love never grows old;
Though beauty kept withering
And the body went on ageing …”
“Wait! What if she is not alive?” Meroda
shouted, “What if she died? Are you
planning to die like this?”
“Forget about that, you better get up
now…breakfast is ready.”
“We could`ve made a perfect match if
you were my husband you monk!” she
said, leaping out of bed like a kangaroo
and jumped on to his back. He carried
her to the bathroom without any protest
still playing his guitar. She kissed him
behind his ear and got off his back.
“Your breakfast is delicious, monk.” She
said in a lively mood after they sat for
breakfast.
“You know, I`m a monk. May be my spirit
got into it.” he replied mocking. “Did you
know about Jangida`s disappearance?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn`t you tell me?”
“Because, I had no idea about where and
why he disappeared. And because I don`t
like to talk about something I don`t
know.”
“But who do you think was behind his
disappearance”
“I don`t like guessing too. But I`m sure it
didn`t involve the CIA.”
“How about the other intelligence
organizations?”
“Do you really know Jangida?”
“Why do you ask?”
“He is a man who lives only his own life.
He does not get involved in anything else.
So there is nothing that connects any
secret agency with Jangida.”
“So where in the world did he go?”
“How should I know? May be he went to
Ethiopia.
The news says that he “Disappeared.”
What`s more, he was not booked on any
flight out of America. Perhaps he`d
grown wings.”
“Stop joking.”
“What do you think a man longs for
when he is spending most of his time
with a monk? His only wish would be to
grow six wings and fly, the way St. Tekle
Haimanot did. I swear on your life. I am
not joking. What else can anyone get from
being with you? Except to wish for
heavens and sainthood …anyway doctor
Jangida is not my headache. You are. You
are truly a Mirage! An elusive wave!” she
kissed the beardless part of his cheek and
took off to the bathroom. He picked up
the dishes and went to the sink. Both
returned after a few moments to sit on
the couch; she, turning on her laptop and
started typing. He was looking at the
envelop he received last time.
It had no sender address on it, except the
seal of the post office in Bahir Dar,
Ethiopia.
“This mail amazes me.” He said.
“What has it got to amaze you?” She
asked him, sliding closer to him on the
couch.
“Do you know what it contained inside?”
“A letter... What else?”
“No. A blank paper! Here look at it.” He
handed her the mail.
She took out the empty paper and looked
at it for a long time. She wasn`t thinking
it was sent without any motive. As she
was a secret agent, it was her duty to solve
these kinds of puzzles. She started to
study the empty paper more carefully.
“We`ll see.” She said, got up and went to
the adjoining room. She came back with a
magnifying glass.
She searched the paper with the
additional magnification. Suddenly she
saw a writing made with a very light pink
ink.
“Mirage” She said, reading from it.
“Come and see.” He came closer and saw
the writing. “Don`t you know some types
of confidential information are written
this way? With a concealable ink?” she
told him, gazing through the glass.
The words read: OPEN THE
GUITAR`S BOX.
He brought the guitar the old man gave
him, and looked at the sound box. He
now realized it has a kind of lid on the
top of it. He had thought that the small
buttons were placed as decorations for
the guitar. Now he could see that they
had numbers inscribed on them. He tried
opening it by pressing the buttons
randomly. It did not work. They looked at
each other for a long moment. Again,
they searched the letter with the
magnifying glass. At last, they found what
they were looking for - the numbers 6438
at the back of the paper written with the
same pink color. Mirage pushed the
buttons on the guitar following the same
order, 6…4…3…8. The guitar`s sound
box made clicking sound and slide open
by itself.
The inside part was covered with thin
aluminum like material. On the bottom, a
wrapped parchment could be seen
sticking. He pulled it off and unwrapped
the thin foil it. Another piece of the same
kind of parchment paper fell out. He
picked it up and begun reading. It read
“Top Secret” in Amharic, at the top.
Below this, other Amharic worlds were
written in a clear artful handwriting.
USE THE SCROLL. YOUR
COUNTRY NEEDS YOU AS SOON
AS YOU ARE IN ETHIOPIA, GO TO
THE CHURCH OF ST. GABRIEL, IN
BAHIR DAR TOWN OPPOSITE THE
NILE BRIDGE. THEN PROCEED TO
THE CHURCH`S GRAVEYARD AND
SEARCH FOR THE GRAVE OF
ABBA SIRGAGA. DIG THE GRAVE.
YOU WILL FIND THE NEXT
MESSAGE, INSIDE IT. MAKE SURE
THAT NO ONE SAW YOU WHILE
OPENING THE GRAVE. BE
CAREFUL.
He quickly unwound the scroll of Berana
a kind of locally made leather parchment.
He gazed on the writings intricately hand
drawn rather than hand written.
`Confused` was the only word to describe
what he felt looking at the manuscript
and thinking about the series of events,
he had gone through. It was all a carefully
planned and cleverly executed
undertaking. There was something among
the writings that he was familiar with.
Indeed, it was an excerpt taken out of a
book; he has got in his collection. It was
the famous poem of laureate Tesegaye
Gebre Medhin, – `The Passion of Peter` – a
poem that ignited the flames of
patriotism and freedom on any locale.
However, why would someone need such
amount of secrecy to send the poem in
this kind of complicated jigsaw? Eagerly,
he read and reread the poem, hoping to
solve the puzzle it may contain.
On the bottom of the poem, there was a
drawing of the bloated cross in the shape
of the Ge`ez letter - “ቶ” for him a
lifetime mystery. The same numbers he
had carried as a tattoo on his back was
scribed on the drawing of the cross he
was holding.

544 95 106 2923 775 30456 527 332

4444 975

ኦሪያኢትዮጵያ
98123 96 1067 40567 88123456

መራራክንፍ …

ማሔርሻላልሐሽባዝ … ቀጠሮቃል…

4444
ዴርቶጋዳ
“Oh God!” Mirage said, looking at
Meroda in an expression of confusion.
Both had finished reading and were
looking at each other, as if they could
find the solution to the puzzle in each
other`s eyes.
“What do you think?” Mirage asked her
at last.
“I think whoever sent you this must know
you very well.” She told him. “You know
why? Think about the guitar that they had
given you. That means, they know you
love guitars. Usually people use
something you have to set a trap for you.
Again, they planned to get to you through
this poem, because they know you love
poetry. Therefore, I have no doubt that
the people who are doing this had
intimate knowledge about your personal
life. Who do you think these people are?
Do you have anyone in mind?”
“I know only few people in the whole
world. They are so few in number that in
fact I could name them to you right now.”
“I`m listening…”
“One Zipporah…” she cut him short,
Zipporah`s name always seemed to
produce a sudden fit of anger on Meroda.
“Idiot! You are an idiot. Don`t I know
you more than Zipporah knew you?
When was the last time you were with
her? Years had gone by since then. Does
she even have a memory of you playing a
guitar? Tell me! Does she remember you
as a man who loved reading modern
poetry? She remembered you as a deacon
reciting prayers and enchanting in the
altar. You are not making any sense…you
disgust me!” she abruptly came to her
feet. “I told you, I never want to hear her
name again. She makes me shudder! She
is a satanic spirit! I have no doubt that if
love was something that could be
measured, the greater and deeper love I
have for you would be proved. She is a
jinee… a black-magician! And she has
made you too just like herself.” She went
into the bedroom cursing him. He
followed her.
“You see Meroda. I have no doubt that
she is searching for me too. She loves me.
And I love her. She was taken away
against her will. People came between us.
And our lives took separate ways. Tell me,
what sin did she commit? And me, where
did I go wrong by searching for my love
all my life? May be I`d be doing the same
thing if that woman were you.” He felt a
deep sympathy for her. However, his heart
had always tended to pull him to
Zipporah, away from her.
“You see…in your child hood there was
no horizon for you to see except for the
horizon that lies beyond the mountains
around Lake Tana. You thought there was
no horizon or even a lake other than your
eyes could see. But that has changed since
then. You have seen a more distant
horizon and a more vast lake. You have
played your guitar looking at the vastness
of the pacific and the far away horizon
beyond it. As long as you are moving
forward, you will discover a vaster
horizon and a vaster world. When you
climb up the mountains you can see, then
many other mountains will come into
your view. The mountains you were
looking at first were hiding them from
you. Zipporah was the one who at first
was hiding the others from your eyes.
Now you should be able to climb up to
her tip; unless of course you want to
remain forever in your first horizon, I am
now your new horizon. Now stop looking
at her and look at me. You may even love
me. Who knows? I cannot force you. But
I will still love you, whatever your answer
may be.” Tears suddenly filled her eyes.
She did not want to cry. Therefore, she
diverted her thoughts by changing the
topic. “Do you have any possession that
Jangida had ever touched?” she asked him
fighting back her emotions and trying to
focus on the matter at hand.
“Yes,” he replied. “Let me get you a book
he read again and again a couple of
months ago. It is a book written by
Laureate Tsegaye G. Medhin, called “Fire
or Flower.”
She spent a lot of time studying the pages
of the book with a special fluorescent
light that radiated from an instrument in
the shape of a pen. At last, she found
Jangida`s fingerprints on the pages of the
poetry book on which `The passion of
Peter` was written. She then scanned both
sides of the seemingly empty letter. Her
guess was right. She found a matching
print on the letter.
“Jangida`s finger prints are on the letter
too.” She told him.
“How could I know?” replied Meroda.
“But I suspect there is some mystery
behind all this.”
“What kind of mystery?” Mirage asked
again lost in thought. “I`ve to meet
engineer Shagiz immediately.” He said,
trying to fit the guitar back again. He
pressed the numbers with whose
command the guitar`s sound box was
opened at first. The lid slide back sealing
the sound box as it should be. “I`ve to
find Shagiz. I don`t want to go to
Ethiopia before I met him, at least once.”
he said, touching the guitar`s strings with
his fingers.
“Are you going to play a song for him
too?” she asked him mockingly. “You`re a
foolish monk, Mirage. You can`t even
realize what you are doing.”
“How?” he asked her, startled.
“Don`t you know thousands of hounds
are always stalking him? Do you want to
confront the CIA again?”
“I must meet him somehow.” He said
picking up his cell phone and dialed
Shagiz`s number. She snatched the cell
phone out of his hand with a lightning
speed.
“You don`t even know that your phone is
tapped.” She said. “Poor thing...”
She led him by the hand to her bedroom,
where she gave him another cell phone.
He called Shagiz. After the routine
greetings were over, he asked him if he
had the time for them to talk. Shagiz told
him the rendezvous point without
hesitation. He said, he too wanted to talk
about something. There was an obvious
tone of haste in his tone of voice.
CHAPTER 8
New York, the United States

The black egg shaped hat and the white

suit added to the guitar he held gave him
a look of a rock star. By the time, he
emerged out of the elevator on the floor
of a skyscraper building where he and
engineer Shagiz chose as a rendezvous
point. He was the first one to get there.

He looked down from the 12th floor

where he was standing. He watched as the
black automobile`s two doors open and
two huge men with a bodyguard`s build,
jump out. After these two scanned their
surrounding with watchful eyes to make
sure no one was noticing, another man
slimmer than the first two got off to
open the front door. A man wearing a
black suit graciously appeared out of the
car and looked up the building
straightening his tie. Mirage recalled
seeing the green, yellow and red striped
black tie before. He could make out the
circularly bald vastness in addition to the
receding hairlines on the front part of his
forehead created the shape of a bay on
the coast of an ocean. The remaining part
of his hair along the sides of the cars and
the back part of his head completed the
circle, to produce an illusion of a
“Game” styled hair of a local girl, instead
of his true 55-year-old self.
Doctor Mirage did not take a second to
identify the man standing far below him.
It was engineer Shagiz. When the
bodyguards went back into the car, he
slowly went into the building. He
followed him until he disappeared out of
sight and sat down on a nearby chair
taking off the guitar from his shoulder.
Just as Engineer Shagiz and doctor
Mirage met and began discussing the
matter at hand, four automobiles arrived
from different directions and parked on
the lot in front of the building. No one
dismounted off all four.
The white Cadillac, which had tailed
Mirage, was the first to arrive. Mirage was
thinking about what he should do. He
knew he was to confront the CIA one
more time, as soon as he saw the white
Cadillac arrive.
Two of the best agents of Moss ad-
doctor Anania and Zipporah were alertly
keeping the building under strict
observation from inside a black BMW.
They have been tracking every move the
NASA engineer made and reporting the
details to their superiors, up until now.
On a special meeting, Moss ad conducted
for the sole reason of discussing an issue
of high priority that made the engineer a
focal point, a decision was concurred
upon...
Following the decision, an operation was
launched to abduct the engineer and fly
him to Israel at the first slightest
opportunity available. The operation was
led by Zipporah and doctor Anania. They
had a back up of the whole brigade of
Moss ad`s commandos on alert, ready to
execute any command from the two
agents. However, they were on a very
strict order about the covertness of the
operation. Not a soul must know. But
they both knew it was a breath taking
task.
Zipporah and doctor Anania had an
additional task of watching and reporting
every move the engineer made. While
waiting for the right time. Up until now,
they have discovered his secret meetings
with companies around the world, to buy
various high tech equipments and thus
reported their findings to Moss ad`s head
quarters. What baffled them most was as
to where in the hell he did put the
electronic materials he had bought. In
addition, they were able to prove his
connections with Ethiopian scientists
who had disappeared while working in
other countries. A puzzle, yet to be
solved.
The two top Moss ad agents had orders,
to take any action upon his contacts,
according to the level of threat, when it
was found necessary. Especially when his
contacts were citizens of anti-Israel
countries, they shall be taken care of, so
that he cannot give away any
technological secrets. Zipporah believed
that to identify the man with the guitar, it
was better to wait for him to own the
building.
Just as the CIA and Moss ad were
watching the building from their white
Cadillac and the black BMW respectively,
there was a third car from where in the
KGB was also engaged in the same task.
The KGB-as the pillar of Russian
existence-many years has gone since it has
infiltrated it`s agents in large numbers
into America so that it could lead Russia
up front in the technological competition
between the two powerful rivals in the
world. The SAMOS-a satellite launched
from the South California Air force base
in America, that scans and tracks radars,
radio transmissions, communication lines
and nuclear as well as space researches
conducted by countries like Iran, China
and Russia. This fact wasn`t a secret
concealed from the world. The Russian
intelligence was also aware about the one
hundred and eighty two days of orbit
above Russian ground that these satellites
made during the year 1970 alone. The
Russians in turn launched their spy
satellites, three times more advanced than
the SAMOS, to orbit just above
American grounds. These spy SATS were
so highly advanced that they could even
report an almost accurate census of the
nation.
While all this was going on in space,
Russian agents were snooping at the US`s
scientific secrets on the ground.
Transmitted radio messages were hijacked
on their way to their destination. There
was nothing to overlook, every
conversation was valuable to the agents.
Whether religious, business or pleasure
telephone conversations on any title were
caught and filtered for key worlds. They
had absolutely no doubt about the value
of any information, even out of a low
life, let alone a personality like engineer
Shagiz, with a load of confidential
information. To that end, the KGB has
assigned agents that must keep their eyes
on the engineer at all times. Mainly there
was a specific tech info they need from
him.
They knew that, since the Second World
War the techniques of rivalry had
changed. Wars were now fought using
very sophisticated hi-tech ways, involving
modern electronic devices. They have
found out that it was better to
manufacture weapons rather than
purchasing them with all their sabotaged
parts. Otherwise, they would make them
vulnerable to the evil intentions of the
countries in which the weapons were
fabricated. Taking into account the truth
that Russian weapons competition was
not only about national pride but also
about survival, the Russians were able to
develop an Anti-Anti-Radar Scrambling
technology immediately after the
Americans started using an anti-radar
device that could render Russian radars
inoperable. The Russians made this new
technology a reality only because they had
the intelligence capability to know what
their rivals were doing, by closely
watching the scientists working against
them. Engineer Shagiz was one such
scientist under the strict watch of the
KGB. Right now, the agents in the red
Fiat were on a routine mission.
In a blue automobile parked just a few
meters behind the Fiat, sat Ethiopian
secret service agents talking about their
fellow citizen who was being the centre
of attention to all these groups of agents.
However, they were not talking about
hauling the scientist away to their
country, and use the exceptional
knowledge he carried. Not at all! They
were talking about sending a bullet right
through his head. They were under a
direct order about the absolute covertness
of the operation. Because, if the
information that he was murdered with
the hands of his own people leaked, then
a public outburst would prevail. That was
why no one must know!
That was why the task was entrusted not
to the ones with patriotic love but to
those very few heedless individuals, lest
they should think twice. Those who were
now stalking him were blood-lusted
brutals determined not to let even his
dead body rest on their land - which of
course was his too. It was their
unwavering determination in executing a
command, which labeled them as the
loyal agents of the EIA. These agents
were replaced to continue – more like to
start all over again-the mission, after the
agent originally assigned destroyed all
evidence and shot himself.
“This guy should be sending money to
the `patriotic elders` so that they could
buy wheelchairs; rather than joining the
patriots party.” joked one of them
smiling.
“We`ll be damned if he ever set foot in
Bonga again!” said the other, lighting his
cigar. He was the meanest of all.
Doctor Mirage wondered in an amazed
curiosity, why nobody disembarked out
of the three cars parked beneath the
building. He thought about the autopilot
automobiles he watched in the 007
movies. They all had one-way-vision
windscreens. He could not see if there
were people inside them. The white
Cadillac was not strange. He had already
informed the engineer about the CIA
following them.
“I`m used to them…They are always
around.” The engineer had told him, he
also remembered what Meroda had said:
many hounds stalk him around.
The engineer expressed his sorrow about
Mirage`s unemployed state and the
attempted murder he`d miraculously
escaped, just because of him. Shagiz was
not so amazed when he`d told him about
the tattooist`s connections with the KGB.
What amazed Mirage was Shagiz`s
incuriosity for the secret that may lie
behind their common tattoo. Perhaps he`d
solved the puzzle, he wondered. Solving
puzzles could be his hobby, not only his
profession.
“Have you got any lead about that word,
DERTOGADA?” he was about to ask
him when the Engineer started a
conversation that completely shifted his
attention.
Shagiz looked directly to the United
Nations building facing the one they were
sitting in and commented upon the
quotation inscribed upon a wall standing
at the square. It said:-

AND THEY SHALL BEAT THEIR

SWORDS INTO PLOWSHARES,
AND THEIR SPEARS
INTO PRUNINGHOOKS: NATION
SHALL NOT LIFT UP SWORD
AGAINST NATION, NEITHER
SHALL THEY LEARN WAR ANY
MORE.

“Isn`t it beautiful?” Shagiz asked him

after he recited the quotation to Mirage.
“It is indeed most beautiful!” answered
Mirage.
“It remained without an author for three
decades before the name `Joshua` was
inscribed on it in 1975. Shagiz explained.
“It is said that, the men who first
established the U.N in 1945 composed the
quotation, to express and herald the
purpose and vision of the organization-
prevailing universal peace in the world. But I
guess the quotation and the organization
aren`t two sides of the same penny.”
“How…?” Mirage asked him, looking
directly at the UN building.
“Imagine. Who in the world is willing to
beat his sword into a plough? When the
world is full of politicians, who can
communicate only through the language
of bullets and while they are engaged in
hammering their ploughs into swords
even right now; who were they planning
to fool by preaching to the world about
transforming its swords into ploughs?
You see, there are many people who have
a humanitarian-`religious`-organization-
picture of the United Nation in their
minds. This is a distorted picture
deliberately imprinted upon the world by
the very few powerful who`re in control
of the UN. I sometimes wonder if it is
the raw-model and the birth of
governmental dictatorship. It is an
organization dominated only by five
countries. And the fact that its primary
allies are African leaders is a big irony.
Alas…” he said as though his mind was
given more than its share of tasks. “Let`s
get back to our business…lots of things
bother me.” He looked at him intently
through his tiny eagle eyes.
“What kind of things?” Mirage asked,
posing himself ready to listen.
“Let me tell you a little bit about what
ails my mind. There are things you know
about me. It could be what others told
you or things you have learned about me
from the media. What worried me is not
about how much you know me, or not.
But, it`s an honor for me to get to know
you. I`m proud of you because, I`ve seen
the goodness in you. There is no greater
virtue. I believe.” He said, making a
successful attempt to win all of his
attention. “During the years I`ve worked
as a system engineer and creative scientist,
I was able to design space shuttles and
rockets considered crucially important for
the purpose of conducting efficient
scientific researches on various planets
including earth. Of course, I could not
have managed this without the efforts of
other fellow scientists. But what value
does it have!” the engineer paused,
looking deep into the doctor`s eyes.
“How could it be without value? I think
it had all the value by right. Your
achievements are a pride for many,
especially for Africans.” Mirage
challenged him.
“Let me tell you the reason that made it`s
good-for-nothingness, clear to me. For
the past many years, I have been working
on a project aimed at developing the
defense system that goes by the name Star
Wars, leading the group of scientists
assigned on it. I knew my efforts were
meaningless. I have been launching
rockets and shuttles to space only for the
benefit of the few powerful countries. I
made the launch of satellites possible, to
the advantage of the North American
Space Agency and the European Space
Centre. Satellites that I set on their orbits
are now revolving the earth, using their
capabilities in a way that made poor
countries vulnerable to the plundering
hands of the advanced nations. My heart
breaks when I looked at the images of
natural resources that these poor
countries have and compared it with their
starving children and their suffering.
While I was putting all my efforts on the
luxury of space research, my people were
starving to death. Is there anything more
meaningless than this!” there were tears in
his eyes. “So what is there meaningless
about it?” Mirage said.
“Was having the knowledge not right?”
“I wish I never had the knowledge!
Listen. The powerful nations are
transforming Earth into hell. In ancient
times they prospered by plundering
Africa`s natural resources. Even now, I
know about the conspiracies they are
setting up to ravage upon what remained
from it. But the third world poorest
nations will still he held responsible, if
our earth changed into hell.
If the balance of power continued as we
are witnessing it now, then the time of
doomsday will be getting ever faster every
minute. The globe is warming up, mostly
because of the heat generating lustful
actions of these powerful nations. We
don`t have to be psychics or astrologers,
to foresee the time that natural disasters
beyond the control of modern
civilizations shall come upon the world.”
“I don`t understand. Engineer, are you
telling me that we should try to tackle
global warning?”
“I`m telling you that the developed
countries are trying to have much more
than their share of earth`s natural
resources. They have already ransacked
the earth. Now they are trying to ravage
the universe of course, if they can ravage
it all. That is one of the reasons why they
are launching shuttles into space. To get a
habitable alternative heavenly dwelling
place in space. When they do find such a
place or when they`ve modified the ones
they`ve already discovered how to make
them habitable, and then they will start
transporting their nations to these planets
or one of their moons.”
Mirage laughed heartily as if he had just
listened to a good joke.
“I`m not joking. The first nations to be
living in this heaven of space will be
Americans, the Chinese and the Koreans
or Russians and the Japanese. This heaven
is especially necessary for the Israelites.
They want to have the greater part of the
new home they were not fortunate
enough to get in this world. What is
worse, they may even control it all by
themselves and attack anyone who would
go there to join them. The fate of poor
nations would be, to stay back on the
hellish earth and wait for their doom - the
third world to hell and the advanced world
to another planet - heaven. But, before
this time came the competition for an
efficient power source and for building a
most capable space shuttle, is at its peak.
To find a source of energy that could last
for a long time in space, they are
searching for an alternative power on
earth as well as the moon. To cut the
matter short, the natural resources that
Ethiopia have-for example-is in reality
enough for the whole of Africa let alone
for its nation. I am talking about what I
know to be true.
“Mirage...” he went on. “ …This country
is a highly prosperous country with an
immense amounts of untapped mineral
riches, including uranium and platinum
ores, diamond and gold deposits, coal and
oil fields, not to mention it`s most
available water power. There was no other
reason why the country would be
attracting the attentions of many other
countries. The English followed after the
Italians were conquered and driven out,
then after the unsuccessful English
invasion the Americans tried to take their
chance. And, perhaps now china is using
its diplomatic trade relations as a means
for similar end. An irony, while all these
nations were fighting to take a bite at a
land still unaware of itself. Ethiopia is
now posed vulnerable to any attack of
looters. The so-called philanthropist
developed world owe this nation a lot, for
concealing its own wealth from their eyes
by creating lame citizens with no
ambition, just through their donations.
We are now at a point where we are being
paid to maintain our hunger and our
poverty.” Engineer Shagiz went on
relentlessly, winning more of Mirage`s
attention every passing moment, “Many
traitors still dwell among the nation in
the cover of investment and aid
organizations that went on working to
their advantages with corrupted officials
while diverting the government`s
attention onto trivial meeting and forums.
You`ll know this if you`ve been listening
about matters concerning your
country…”
Mirage nodded, “Yes, I`ve got enough
follow up.” Shagiz went on, “Ethiopian
leading authorities are signing deals of
loan almost every day, with western
counties. The country had borrowed an
amount of money that even the
generations-after cannot pay back. Every
youngster and teenage will have nothing
to inherit from this corrupt and greedy
generation, except a debt of billions of
dollars... a debt of money, a debt of
morality and of blood. We have a hell lot
of debts yet to pay. Still Ethiopians are
mourning about their misfortunes,
unaware that they shed their tears upon a
ground, under which lies an oil deposit.
They are still living in darkness, short of
an energy source to light up their worlds,
while standing upon their deposits of
uranium are. The Black Diamonds of
Ethiopia are accepting balms from the
rich, leaning on their untouched diamond
mines…” he was getting emotional and
seemed to notice that his tone of voice
was changing. He paused.
“I don`t enjoy telling you all this. My
friend, Mirage! For how long shall you
and I keep silent?” he asked him coming
even closes to him. “For how much
longer shall we remain onlookers?!”
“Not for a minute longer!” answered
Mirage, partly driven with the burning
feelings of a grudge that the engineer`s
influential worlds inspired. “On my part,
I am ready to act upon any task, from this
moment on. However, what can I do? The
chains of problems are unending. It needs
manpower and enough amount of
money.”
What it requires is not only enough
money. Nor does it require an
exaggerated number of personnel. If we
could communicate sincerely and work
together as one, our knowledge`s and
capabilities are enough to make a change
in the world-let alone a country. Only
very few men were responsible for all the
greatest changes the world had ever seen.
In fact, they are not more than ten in
number. Think of the men that made
America in possession of the atomic
energy, at the outset of the Second World
War - Henrico Fermi, Leo Szilard, Albert
Einstein, Rutherford. One of the reasons
America became the most powerful
nation, was the historical coincidences of
these scientists on a specific time.
America is an expert on how to drain the
brains of people. It is a country of
famous and great personalities who made
you feel like an American or at least
create a desire to be one of them. To our
amazement, in our country you`ll be
labeled a stranger in your own land and
your own village where you grew up. You
will live and die a stranger to your own
country. While everyone tells you that the
matters of your country doesn`t concern
you. And while a loaded gun is always
pointing at your mouth, ready to fire if
you said a word.
But, do you think all these personalities
who`ve taken America to the heights of
its supreme power, were really
Americans? Not at all...in truth, they are
men and women who`ve fled away the
persecution of dictators in their
countries. Our fates and the fates of
many other intellectual Ethiopians in
America was not something different.
Ethiopia was never short of academically
apt citizens except for the unreasonable
dislike it has developed toward these
people. But …” the engineer went on
pouring out his heart to Mirage. “…there
is something the country needs. That is,
to commit oneself to CHANGE.
Once more… Ethiopia is in need of a
revolution. A revolution that shall not
consume it`s children! A revolution that
is not self-destructive! A scientific
revolution backed up with modern
technology. You see Mirage…every
Ethiopian love change, except a few who
lose their unfair advantages through
change. The problem is, that you cannot
find anyone willing to be part of the
changing group. There are many who
longed to live in comfort on the spilt
blood and death of others.”
Doctor Mirage was obviously touched,
“If you think I`ve got the power to undo
the misgivings of my people living in
misery, and then I`m all yours. But how
can we bring this change? …Ethiopia has
a way of ignoring you while it desperately
needed your help. Ethiopia waits for far
off strangers to come to her rescue. She
pushes away those who knew her
intimately. She attacked them with her
sword. The learned fled away from her
eyes of fire, burning them. The young
students are daily thought theories that
they will never be able to practice them.
Their minds are forced not to wonder
about freedom because they are living in
`universities` not better than
concentration camps. Moreover, when
anyone of them was found trying to
break free from this chain, they would be
labeled enemies. So tell me in what way
can, you and I find a solution to this kind
of problem?” Mirage asked him back.
“If you really wanted to know, the way
you are now following will take you
there?” answered Shagiz.
“Which way am I following?” asked
Mirage.
“Travel to the place you were summoned,
without hesitation. Go to your country.
Do not hesitate. The more you hesitate,
the more you will be losing your way.
Every patriotic puzzle we have discussed
until now will be solved along the way
you are treading. I`d like to tell you again
that as long as you are faltering and
uncertain about what you`re doing, you`ll
not be the chosen one. You are better
than all the Uranium and diamond riches
we have talked about... Ethiopia is calling
you. Forget about the other. You just go
your own way.” Shagiz told him.
Suddenly Mirage was aware about his
unconscious involvement in something so
complicated and dangerous. But, why
isn`t he telling me the truth? He
wondered.
He kept silent for a few moments,
confused. At last, he asked Shagiz,
“Where exactly am I supposed to travel?”
“I`m not allowed to give you that
information. But…, I can give you an
advice. You must be sure of your secrecy.
Have in mind that a small mistake can
throw you into hell. I am not saying this
to intimidate you. However, I`d like to
assure you about something. There will be
no turning back once you are on the road.
If you are not willing this is the time to
tell me and to stop everything right now.
Then you can live your own life in peace.”
Doctor Mirage thought about it for a
long while, fighting away the uncertain
feelings. He finally made up his mind.
“Whatever will be, let it be. I`ll not
hesitate. I`ll not be dithered. I shall not
surrender.” He told him with an honest
determination. “But I would`ve liked to
fully treat your heart condition.”
“You`ve done what you can to solve my
heart condition. Now, it has gone beyond
you. You have already lost your job
because of it. You have put your life in
danger because of me. There is nothing
more you can do to help me. May be
there could come a time when you could
give me the treatment in our country.
Otherwise, don`t worry about me living
forever. I`ve no intention to live a
thousand years. Worry about the children
dying of hunger every day. Our country
will have another man as good as me, if I
died.”
Don`t worry about me. Ethiopia will
have others even if I pass away. She never
lacked one or two prominent personalities
at all ages. It was sad the few good men
were overshadowed by the evildoers. One
important thing to focus right now is
remembering that you and I are at the
right time to rescue our fellow citizens
from the jaws of death before death took
us ourselves. We are at the time were
Ethiopian`s are frustrated. They bow
down to the ground in shame. Their
young daughters are being sold to Arab
merchants while their boys are being
slaughtered trying to cross boarders by
land. Ethiopia is filled with desperate
youngsters. Ithas become a sack of
hopeless youth. You know that people
without hope or mission will slowly
perish. So the window of hope shall be
opened. No outsider will come to change
Ethiopia. You have to be sure of this fact.
The Chinese and Arabs that currently
inundated the country don`t give a damn
about your progress. It`s high time for
you to rescue your motherland from
looters and bandits. Shagiz took Mirage`s
hands and looked deep into his eyes.
“Please allow me to ask one question.”
Mirage said.
“You can ask but I will answer only to the
level I am allowed to answer.”
“Are you people sending me to a war
front?”
Shagiz laughed aloud and said, “I know
that you were a soldier of the former
Ethiopian regime. I also know you were
monastic. Does a soldier and a monastic
man fear death?”
“May be no, but I don`t like wars. I will
never pull the trigger on anyone.”
“Calm down, we don`t want you to draw
your sword. We are not sending you to a
war front. You must know that.”
“So, where are you sending me?”
“I`m not allowed to tell you that, but I
can tell you this-you have two choices to
make right now-either to drop everything
about your journey right in front of me
and walk on your own way enjoying
yourself with the tone of your guitar…or
to choose the road of wisdom and travel
in unity, full stop.”
“Engineer, I have a complete trust in
you.”
“We also developed a trust upon you
after making a long time research and
surveillance. But we want it confirmed
from your own mouth. Can you confirm
it without any hesitation?”
“I won`t hesitate, but I want to know
what this `Dertogada` is.”
“The more you don`t hesitate the more
your road to Dertogada will be paved.
Proceed forward without questions. For
now, there are people to lead you the way.
And your time to lead others will come if
you stay as a good follower.”
At that moment, a fat old woman entered
the elevator. No one paid any attention to
her. The spies in those four cars were
watching the top of the building while
taking long sips of their canned beer. It
was difficult to identify separately the
neck of the fat old woman from her waist
or her legs from her hips. She was over
obese. She also carried a big traveling bag
by her shoulders.
A few minutes after that woman entered
the building Mirage`s mobile phone
sounded an alarm. He read the SMS and
hurried to the rest room after a quick
good bye to Shagiz.
Right at that moment the two Mossad
agents left their car and entered the
building`s elevator. Likewise, the KGB
and the CIA agents run into the building
with the idea that it was the right moment
to capture the guitarist, who sat talking
with engineer for a long time.
Especially the two Mossad spies Zipporah
and Dr. Anania were eagerly expecting to
identify that man and cut his throat with
loaded guns at their hands.
Moments later the fat old women still
carrying her bag reappeared left the
building with another fat woman. The
two enormous women pushed their way
towards a small car parked a couple of
blocks off the building. The car sped
south immediately after the women left
the UN building far behind.
Engineer Shagiz descended the building
using elevator No. 12 and entered his car
with the protective cover of his guards in
the parking lot. A few minutes after he
comforted himself in his spacious limo
he listened to the following message on
his cell phone `Engineer Shagiz. Don`t
worry about me. I`m already out of the
building and very well you can drive now.
Take care of yourself. Farewell and
Ciao.” It was Mirages voice.
Even if the engineer couldn`t guess how
Dr. Mirage got out of the building he
breathed a long breath of relief.
Mirage turned to Meroda sitting next to
him and said “Do you know that I
appreciate some of your tricks. My
lioness_”
The undercover agents of the three
famous security agencies, CIA, Mossad and
KGB returned empty handed out of the
building, very angry about their loss.
Zipporah and Anania shoved their drawn
guns back to their belts and were moving
to their car when Zipporah started talking
angrily.
“You are the reason for our loss today!
We should have went and seen his face
while he was sitting with the Engineer.
That would have helped us arrest him
next time. But you insisted on sitting
down here and watch his white suit and
guitar. Now we know he is a dangerous
man. Otherwise he couldn`t have escaped
in front of our very eyes. Shit! You will
pay for your negligence today Anania. I
am certain that this man will chase us
back.” she shouted at Dr. Anania,
punched the wheel of the car and drove it
at a maximum speed.
The Dr. knew better than replying to an
angry cheetah at her pick anger, so he
murmured to himself and kept quite. He
also concluded she is always right.
When Meroda and the other fat woman
reached Meroda house, they got into the
saloon and the second fat woman started
to take off her clothes. She started getting
thinner and thinner as she threw off the
bunch of clothes off her body. She also
took a guitar from the bar and stood
erect.
Meroda was laughing her rare genuine
laughs that she uses only when she was
with Mirage. “How does it feel to be an
overweight woman?” she said still
laughing.
“Wow it is so beautiful to be a woman
specially a fat woman. You know what I
thought? Had I been as overweight as the
woman I was minutes before maybe death
wouldn`t have the power to lat and finish
me.” Mirage joked.
“You better stay slim because I heard that
the government is planning to proclaim a
higher house rent payment for fatter
people.” She replied his joke with another
one.
“Any way you are a very good artist and
director. I applaud you!” he said.
Meroda added “You also had the chance
of being a good actor. Today you showed
your potential. Let`s forget about this
theater and get back to our unfinished
drama. I want to play the part of Juliet
while you take the part of Romeo.” And
she put his lower lip in between her teeth
and bit him while she pulled him towards
her falling down on the couch. He didn`t
move a single muscle to stop her.
CHAPTER 9
Sicily

Coast of the Mediterranean Sea

He smiled at the same time as he hung up

the phone in satisfaction. It was a call that
told him the success of his attempt to
invest on a small island at the Tana Lake
in Ethiopia. He stared at the glass of
champagne in front of him and
swallowed. `After a long and tiresome
struggle!` he said to himself aloud stressing
every syllable in each word `Yes! After a
long fight that great secret in going to be mine.
But…what a kind of idiots are they? They
should have discovered a secret right under their
noses so long ago? Of course, not any dumb-
head can even be close to the secret except me.
Because, it needed a genius mind.`
“A genius mind!” he said as he walked back
and forth in the room tapping his head
with his index finger for a while and then
he exclaimed “VIVA Mormordino! VIVA
Busky!”
He sat down he saw his muscular black
bodyguard Diola giggling, unmasking his
toothless reddish gum.
 “VIVA Diola! Viva the slave! Now
listen to me you low life! Your freedom is
approaching. But you have to fight hard
for it otherwise.
“I am doing all you wanted.”Diola
answered. “I took care of the Engineers
at the Mediterranean sea. I waited until
after they trained me how to handle the
special submarine excavator they
designed.”
“Don`t tell me what I already know! You
low life moron! I am not stupid like you!
Now come and have a glass of wine to
celebrate our successful beginning. But,
remember this is only the beginning to a
greater goal.”
Don Mormordino Busky was a 94 year
old man. But he felt as if he lived half
that time on this world. His lust for life
and his greed for money were as lively as
ever. Even though his family members
were all gone killing each other, he always
had strange companions and capo di capos.
In his isolated, highly guarded villa at the
cost of the Mediterranean Sea, lived more
than forty people, out of which eighteen
were his personal guards and the
remaining twenty-two were either wives
or mistresses to the Don.
The huge cocaine farms in Colombia and
Jamaica that he holds in monopoly and
controls through several of his, agents
around the world, the enormous oil
factory in Malaysia, the three iron ore
plants in Italy, the famous diamond
extraction plant in south Africa and
several mineral mines opened two years
ago in the Congo Democratic republic
were all the secret property of Don
Mormordino. Italy`s Invisible Don.
Don Mormordino and his family came to
Ethiopia when Italy invaded the country
in retaliation for its defeat at the Battle of
Adwa. He was very young then. During
the five years of Italian occupation,
Mormordino`s family lived in a modern
villa in Bahir Dar city by the cost of Lake
Tana. Even after the Italian army was
driven out of Ethiopia - in humiliation,
the Mormordinos remained in the
country. Nobody knew the secret behind
this Italian family`s stay in Ethiopia. Later
on for unknown reasons the family was
separated into two. While Mormordino
and half of the family fled from Bahir-
Dar to Bonga in the south of Ethiopia,
the remaining half stayed in Bahir-Dar.
By this time additional members of the
family - Mormordino`s uncles arrived
from Italy and made family even larger.
After some time, the Italians in Bahir-Dar
started killing each other. Young
Mormordino who was staying in Bonga
couldn`t have known the cause of the
conflicts. His father Busky fled to Italy
and by the time he returned to Bonga, he
found elderly people and few helpless
survivors running an electronics shop.
Busky took the opportunity, to merge the
two families as one under his control, and
kept the secret behind the blood-feud to
himself.
In 1940, three motor boats were seen on
the Lake Tana. They were the first
material evidences of the long-term plan
of the Italian Busky. With that, marine
transport that served only Busky`s trade
empire started on the lake. After a while,
something that surprised the people of
Bahir-Dar and the neighboring towns
happened. The Sicilian Busky discovered
the three boats that the Italian army had
submerged underwater.
Busky clearly knew that at the time of the
invasion the Italian army had made the
neighboring town Gondar its
headquarters and the port of Gorgora its
command post and dispatched several
motor boats and small ships across the
lake to transport food and weapons in its
strategy of controlling the North Western
part of Ethiopia and hence advance to
the central parts of the country.
He also knew that the Italian army had
sunk its boats and vessels at its last time
of stay in Ethiopia. And he particularly
remembered the place where three of
those boats were sunk. It was around the
deep waters on the coast of Angara Tekle-
Haimanot Island, so he went about the task
of recovering them.
The boats were named Saint George, Santa
Maria and Sanicola. But nobody
questioned the Italian Busky when he
created a phony transportation company
named Naviga Tana and used those boats
for his secret mission. The Naviga
Tanasituated its dispatching and
maintenance unit at Gorgora and started
making direct voyages from Bahir-Dar to
Gorgora regularly. Eventually it extended
its destination points to the west of the
lake`s coasts to Qunzella and Dengel-Ber.
Even though the Naviga Tana continued
its expansion and searched every corner
of the lake till the 1950`s - bribing the
then royal family and similar authorities -
Busky`s mind couldn`t stay at peace. He
hadn`t yet found a trace of the great
secret only he knew.
Worst of all, the company that operated
until 1967E.C was confiscated by the
Military Government on sept.16, 1967
E.C; at what point, Busky`s hope was
almost relinquished.
The great secret hidden in the womb of
the lake remained sealed there. The
government that overthrew the royal
monarchy never gave Busky a space to
move freely.
Therefore, he passed on the secret of
Tana to his son and retired. But, right
after he inherited the position of “Head
of the Family” from his father
Mormordino Junior was sent to prison
for raping a young girl. After he served
his sentence in prison, he was deported to
Italy. The humiliated, defeated and
banished family of Mormordino was not
happily welcomed in Sicily either.
Mormordino saw that Sicily was in a
constant civil war rampant among the
different Mafia groups and he sketched
his unique plan and strategy to fulfill his
dream of being a Don.
Even though it was very difficult of get
the title of a Don in Sicily,
Mormordino`s cleaver mind made it
happen easily.
Eventually Sicily started to get
accustomed to the name Mormordino.
The timid technique of Mormordino to
become one of the Mafia Dons of Sicily
has never been used by any other Don-to-
be before. By the time he became one of
the Mafia leaders, he had already
established a strong family, though void
of blood relatives. Every Sicilian knew
that there was - among the forty family
members of the Don - one who was both
dangerous and loyal servant. Only the
Ethiopian Diola knew the reason why he
became the right hand of Mormordino.
Currently, Don Mormordino is the only
living member of the family that stayed in
Ethiopia and later deported to Sicily.
Some of the Sicilians called him “The
Head of Sicily”. `Palermo listens to
Mormordino better than the government
officials.` They said. It was the Mafia who
were the real governor of Sicily.
A family that is not under the protection
of the Mafia and that doesn`t pay
contribution to a mafia group is at a risk
of elimination.
Tonight, nobody was allowed to pay visit
to the highly guarded resident of Don
Mormordino. In the basement`s special
saloon, the Don was sitting next to the
burning logs in the chimney surrounded
by his wives, mistresses and servants -
waiting readily to fill empty glasses with a
fine wine. The women were singing the
special song created specifically to praise
the Don, and listening to that, he was
swimming in the dream of a leader of an
ancient and powerful family. The old and
traditional style of the women`s song
along with the wine made the don very
delighted. The song goes on : -

“Mormordino the Lord,

Mormordino Busky icon of Sicily,
He never gets old,
Never dies even after the sun burnt out
Or the moon went dark.”

He never got bored of listening to this

song repeatedly. Rather, he felt horny
whenever he heard the song. Added to
the power of love - of the caressing of
the naked women around him - and the
power of the wine, his excitement would
build up and he would laugh loudly. Then
he might pull one of his mistresses up to
his bedroom and made love to her while
allowing the others the freedom to caress
his body. If he were not satisfied with the
woman he wouldn`t hesitate to open the
thighs of the next one. If she were like
the previous one, he would again go to
his third choice for love.
As his age advanced, the conspiracy of
his guards and mistresses to take over his
wealth intensified. But, the man`s heart
was not as gray as his hair and wrinkled
as his skin. He never forgot a thing. It
seemed as if his memory got better and
better with age. He could remember the
exact date and time where some waiter
didn`t give him a single lire change after
he was served dinner in a restaurant.
His bodyguards were commenting on his
long age with disgust. While awaiting his
time of death, eighteen of them were
conspiring kill one another.
The first victim of this plot was the only
black guard Diola Ayalew. His original
name was Shibiru Ayalew. Then he named
himself as Filla Ayalew and everyone
stated calling him by it. Prior to his travel
to Italy, he lived in two different towns of
Ethiopia - Bahir-Dar and Bonga. When
he was in Bahir-Dar he was known as
Filla Ayalew. However, while he was in
Bonga his name changed to the new name
given to him by Mormordino - his master
- to Diola Ayalew. Although he didn`t
know why that Italian family didn`t
return home together with its fellow
invaders, he was quit certain that the
family was not comfortable in Ethiopia.
When part of that family travelled to
Italy, they took Diola with them.
Since then he was the trusted guard and
devoted servant of Mormordino. He gave
all of his only resource - his physical
ability and loyalty - to Mormordino. He
had no education or talent. He lately
understood the reason why Mormordino
made him his trusted guard. It was
because he was illiterate and “Stupid”.
But Diola was not stupid. When the other
guards of Mormordino began the
conspiracy of eliminating one another, he
understood that he would be the first
target. It was true because the other
guards accused him of plotting the
murder of Mormordino.He was thrown
to jail, beaten and was left in a dark room
for several days. By the time he was
released he was bitterly angry. Angry with
the guards, who brought false accusations
against him and on Mormordino, who
believed them and approved the
punishment.
Diola liked his ugly face.His face was
covered with knife scars inflicted by
repeated street fighting in addition to a
look of burnt clay. Because he missed one
eye and the entire upper front tooth, he
had a funny appearance especially when
he occasionally laughed. The layers of
flesh and muscle on his long and strong
bones gave him the appearance of an
invincible creature. Of course, many
people tested his strong hands and some
had slept forever under their strength.
Diola had two things to say about himself
- he said,“Everyone has got his own beauty.”
and “Ever body is his own dictator!”
When he got angry, he would draw his
knife and slash his chest again and again.
He had seen many smart people he knew
replaced by more clever people. His heart
grew wittier when he saw that. It seemed
as if witty people found a good loving
heart only by the time they fell down.
Diola never showed his smartness to his
enemies. Rather he looked naive. Nobody
could read Diola`s face and know what
his feelings or intentions. His revenge was
also indirect. If someone kicked him, he
didn`t kick back immediately. He waited
for the right time to come.
When the other guards accused him of a
murder plot against Don Mormordino he
was sent to prison. In prison the
investigators gave him a lot of biting and
finally chopped his left hand`s little finger
off. Later the Don tested him with a lie
detector and released him saying he was
falsely accused. Diola showed no sign of
vengeance on his face. The only thing
anyone could see on Diola`s dark face
was the criss-crossed knife marks that
gave his face the look of a repeatedly
edited notebook. But one night while
Mormordino was happily gorging in his
supper, he found a human finger
swimming in the soup. He vomited
repeatedly until his stomach and intestine
went numb with pain. All this time Diola
was standing by the front door of the
salon with the other guards and casually
watching the Don in agony. He was
thinking, is there any vengeance sweeter than
this? He let my external muscles be beaten and I
let his internal organs to be punished! I stirred
the whole of his inside with my little finger!
Mormordino questioned all of his guards
about the man who did the disgusting act.
Every guard including Diola dined. When
Mormordino inspected the finger again
and got to know that it was a black man`s
he called on the only black guard – Diola.
“Is that your finger?”
“No!”
“You savage slave! Do you deny your own
finger?”
“Yes, I deny it! I will deny every finger on
my arms for the sake of your honor and
our age-long friendship!”He answered
determined.
When the Don heard that, his temper
subdued. `Who else would provide his own
finger as a food as a gesture of respect?` He
thought, and then he suddenly burst out
laughing.
Diola didn`t laugh.
“Isn`t my flesh better than that of the
ducks? They eat ugly worms and dead
bodies. But a human being feeds on
blessed things. So a human being is
blessed. If we talk about blessings, I say
no one is more blessed than the pop in
Rome. Isn`t it true lord Mormordino?”
He said.
“Shut up you dull slave!” Mormordino
shouted. Because he hated the Roman
pops and he couldn`t bear to hear them
called blessed.
Diola didn`t shut up. He continued,
“_therefore, we will start feeding on the
blessed bodies of the Roman pops.”
Mormordino applauded Diola for joking
on the roman pops. However, he added,
“You slave, you have said enough! But we
are not going to eat your black finger.”
“Don`t worry lord Mormordino. Even if
my skin is black, I am red inside, and my
bones are white.” Diola said.
He had odd ways and of expressing, his
distress and avenge others. People tell
many stories about this particular
behavior of his. He liked the sour test of
a strong tea. If a bee were trapped in his
mug while he was drinking his tea, he
would push it out with a spoon. Then he
sits enjoying as he watched the desperate
effort of the bee to escape. Then he
would slowly stir the bee with the sugar
and gulped it in smiling. When he is
happy, he usually giggled silently exposing
his fire red toothless gum.
One day Mormordino`s guards brought
Diola to the Don biting and pushing him,
and told Mormordino that they saw him
cutting the wings of a bird with scissors.
“Why the hell did you do that? You
slave!” asked the Don.
“Have I done anything wrong?” Diola
asked back.
“Moma Mia! Did you hear this! Dirty
slave asking me what wrong he did! Kick
his ass!” the Don shouted at one of the
white guards.”
“What is my crime?” Diola persisted
“Why would you cut the bird`s wings
off?”
“Because it troubled the bird, Master!” he
replied. “I have never seen her flying,
even for a single moment since I came to
live in this house. She spent her days and
nights here. We provided her with food
and shelter. So if the bird won`t have any
use for its wings what difference would
the bird`s wings have than an extra flesh
on a human being?”
He was sarcastically referring to the big
tumor hanging from the back of
Mormordinos ear.
“Isn`t it better to cut these useless wings
from the bird and give it to the poor
snake with no legs? Let me tell you a
story, my good sir. There is an ancient
tell…once upon a time, the snake was
four legged like a cow. The same snake
who guided Adam and Eve to the tree of
Wisdom from which they ate the fruit of
knowledge. For what they ate, the snake
was cursed for eternity. It was cursed for
the only reason of leading human beings
to the tree of Wisdom! Because of the
curse, it`s four legs shrank all the way to
of his abdomen, so the snake was obliged
to crawl on earth for eternity.
The roman people tell us that Jesus was
crucified to redeem Adam and eve from
their sin. But no! Jesus was crucified for
the sake of the poor snake. So the snake
couldn`t get back its four legs. It still
crawls on the ground. Master
Mormordino, you are a man of justice.
Aren`t you-Master?”
“Of course I am!” said Mormordino
waiting to understand the trick behind
Diola`s story he thought was foolish. He
knew when Diola pretends as a fool and
he admired his skill of pretence. So he
would always listen to Diola`s foolish
stories to the end with patience and
amazement.
“Right! I very well know you are a
righteous person. I am certain that, had
you been in the place of Christ you
would have died on the cross for the
snake. Or, you would at least, give it his
four legs back. You see my good Sir, God
punished his creature for a crime it never
committed!”
Ok, let`s say he is a sinner and deserved
the punishment. But, it was only the first
vicious snake which took Adam and Eve
to the tree and invited them to eat from
the fruit of wisdom that shall be
punished. Why all the descendents of the
snake family shall suffer all of their lives
for the sin they didn`t commit.” Diola
paused.
Mormordino wanted to irritate Diola and
make him talk longer, so he deliberately
scorned him “you nigger slave! Why are
you running around the bush? Speak
what you want to say. Oh forget it; I just
remember that is what you inherited from
your grand fathers.”
“This is the real problem, Master
Mormordino!” the irritated Diola
resumed talking. `You are condemning
me for the sin of my grandfathers. It is
true that my father didn`t speak his heart
directly. May be his father was also a man
who couldn`t talk straight. But, don`t put
me in their place and accuse me of their
crime. Here I am your devoted servant.
And my point is short and clear. I talked
about justice. If that spoiled bird doesn`t
use of her wing let that wing be
transferred to the poor snake that crawls
on the dust! Or, let one of the Roman
pops be crucified for the sake of the
snakes, and let God return their legs back
to them. I`m finished.” Diola said. He
knew exactly what he should say at that
moment.
“Put your hands together for him!” said
the Don happy to hear the pops of Rome
being verbally slashed. While the
remaining nineteen white guards went on
with their scheme of looting the old man
of his wealth, Diola remained the loyal
servant of the Don, because he had a
better plan of his own. The don had put
him through a training program
specifically designed to teach him
monastic rules for the past two years.
Even if he found the training the most
difficult of all, he attended to it seriously
enough. He knew that he is on a bridge
of transformation from a slave to a free
man. But his plan will even transform
him from a slave into a lord. Even if he
had no support he had a strong belief
that he alone was standing like a strong
pillar between heaven and earth.
Everything was made ready. The yellow
gowns of the monks, bonnets… Also the
flight schedule to Bahir-Dar via Don
Mormordino`s private plane was
arranged. Only he and Don Mormordino
knew the final destination of his trip.
CHAPTER 10
BAHIR DAR, ETHIOPIA

There was no patch of sky visible under

the expanse of thick cloud that was
covering it as far as the eyes could see. Its
blackish color screened back the sun`s
rays, creating the illusion of an evening in
the middle of the day. It seemed as if the
heavens were connected with earth
through a new dimension of space and
time the cloud created. The sun above the
city of Bahir Dar seemed to take
sanctuary behind the blackness beyond
the dark clouds. Except for the few
flashes of lightening the city was in
almost complete darkness. Thunder
roared at random intervals, making the
earth as well as all life on it tremble every
now and then. The mountains sighed and
rocks moaned as they listened to the
shout of the fury from the heavens. The
cloud born out of the anger stricken sky
has begun sobbing as if in woe. All of
existence the city had ever known was
literally crossing itself for dear life. As
the windblown rain started pouring
down, the palm trees of Bahir Dar made
a cry of agony under its cruel slash.
Other tress bowed for them. Helpless
flowers fell out of their petals accepting
the day as their last. Leaves flied off their
branches.
It was the third of the thirteenth and last
month in the Ethiopian calendar –
Pagumen - The Thirteenth month of sunshine.
The tiniest of all the months, was proving
its matchless power, on one of the only
five days it received from some of the
kind ones among its twelve brothers. A
rare day that`d managed to veil the beauty
of Bahir-Dar.
Through all the ominous emotions of
Mother Nature, a man was seen walking
on a street famous in Bahir - Dar city as it
that runs up from St. George church and
winded up to beyond Abay - the Nile. He
was wearing a long black overcoat
reaching up to his ankles. And he was
holding a guitar. He walked against the
wind, strapping his black hat to his chin,
his black overcoat gliding and dancing
behind him.
The man caught the attentions of
children playing naked in the rain, and
they of him - Doctor Mirage. The
children were laughing cheerfully and
jumping around singing.
Raphael, Raphael…Raphael…
Send me, O my lord,
To the place of plenty.

Their song made him aware of the date.

He recalled the Holy Raphael`s day
celebrated every year on the third of
Pagumen. On this day, every believer
prayed, so that God would bring rain. If
it rained on the exact same day, the water
is believed to be holy. So children have
made it a custom to run around under
Holy Rafael`s water, naked. Elders say
that it was a day when all the prayers of
the year were sent to God in one piece.
Raphael the angle was the one, who took
the prayers up to where God dwelled, like
a mail carrier.
In the quietness of the streets - now
deserted because of the rain - he heard a
familiar song coming from a music shop
along the side of the street. He stopped
walking, drawn by the inspirational
melody of Bob Marlay`s song of freedom
– Redemption song. He was so deeply lost
in the moment that he brought out his
guitar and played the song himself as he
walked along. The small children started
dancing around him innocently. In a few
seconds spectators gathered around to
watch Mirage and the children sing and
dance. They rejoiced with Bob the
Legend`s song of redemption. Mirage felt
as if he was leading a revolution. The
song goes on.
Redemption songs
…But my hand was made strong
By the hand of the Almighty
…Emancipate yourselves from mental
slavery
Cause none but ourselves can free our
minds.
Have no fear for atomic energy,
Cause none of them can stop the time.
…How long shall they kill our prophets?
While we stand aside and look?
…Won`t you help to sing?
These songs of freedom?
Cause all I ever had,
Redemption songs...

He bade good-bye to the children and

continued walking. He crossed the long
bridge of Abay making his way to the
church of Holy Gabriel beyond the river.
As he got close enough to the church at a
distance where he could listen to the
evening prayers, he went into a small café
to contemplate his next moves. He must
wait until the priests left the church, so
that he could go into the graveyard and
retrieve the information waiting for him
inside Abba Sirgaga`s grave.
He sat there in silence and kept his ears
open to the sounds that came from the
street. He could hear the sounds of cars
coming and going on the main highway
joining the town of Gonder to Bahir Dar.
He could also hear different people
speaking the same language-Amharic -
but with different accents. A Bege-Midir
accent, a Gondar accent, a Gojam
accent…their diversity reminded him of
the location he was now sitting an area
adjoining the two towns of Gojam and
Gonder. A place beyond Abay - they
called it Abay Mado.
Some other sound came to his ears.
Another evening prayer from a far away
Mosque. “Allah Akbar…”
Again another song from nearby. It was a
song by a protestant singer praising Jesus
in Amharic:-

“Oh, Lord you are the one,

You who`ve done my job,
You who`ve straightened my path,
Oh Emanuel be in glory for me
Oh my Lord be praised for me…”

Together with the song, he heard people`s

voices. The preacher`s voice was the
loudest.

“Haleluja!! Jesus is Lord!”

“Amen!” replied the voices
“Shalalamando…”
“Let him be praised!” the mass echoed.
And in the middle of their shouts of
praise, other voices cut in. a lover`s song
from a stereo by Yerdaw Tenaw:-

“Take her with you now,

Away with you now…”

The cocktail of voices went on sounding

in his filtering ears. A homeless man
begging people walking by to spare him
what they can.
“Show some kindness…in the name of
the light in your eyes…in the name of
your able bodies…drop me my
supper…” he guessed the man was blind.
The voices were relentless. They kept
coming. Another voice came from far
away. The voices of the Orthodox priests
concluding the evening prayers with a
song:
“…Forgive us, as kindness is yours!”
After the end of the song, he heard the
priest say the final prayer.
“Our Father, who art in heaven
Holy be thy name, thy kingdom may
come,
… As it is in heaven.
Give us this day, our daily bread,
And forgive us our trespassers,
As we forgive those who trespass against
us…”

The beggar`s shouts continued:-

“…I beg you by the glory of the light in
your eyes…”
“…in the name of Blessed Mary…”
“…in the name of God the Most
Merciful…”
“…drop the pennies you`ve got, I depend
on you guys!”
“…I can`t earn a living by myself…please
buy me my dinner tonight...”
Mirage was listening all of this with
closed eyes. Now a beggar`s voice created
an urge to look at him. He opened his
eyes, curious.
The beggar was using a different style
than was usual. He was asking for his
dinner in the name of the former
president of the country. He went on, “…
in the name of Mengistu Haile Mariam…”
One of his legs was amputated from the
thigh down. There was a look of bravery
on his expression. And he was obviously
not ashamed about his actions. Other
than managing to get the focus of many
passer bys, the ragged cloth he had set in
front of him to receive balms was
covered with money.
“In the name of Mengistu the brave, help
me! In the name of the hero son of
Ethiopia. My fellow men, please…I
fought the war bravely, fifteen years ago. I
was wounded. I`ve no regrets for
sacrificing my body to my country. …I
became a beggar because I gave all I had
to my country. And I will give her my
vote in the next election. Please, my
fellow men buy me my dinner tonight. In
the name of Mengistu…”, he was
hanging on his neck the photo of his
beloved president; he cut out of the cover
of a magazine, in a handmade frame.
People came and stood watching their
former president`s photograph eagerly
for a long time.
Mirage got up and joined the group, not
exactly knowing what he was doing. He
was still holding his bag. He suddenly
remembered the old days of war.
A man smoking a cigar came pushing
through the mass and shouted at the top
of his voice addressing the man, “Ask me
in the name of the prime minister, and
I`ll give you fifty birr!”
The homeless replied with a touch of
indecency, “Shove it up your_” he said. “I
don`t have a problem of people to beg
calling their names.” He produced
another primitively framed photograph.
“In the name of the king…Tewodros…
the only child for his mom…the man
who had a thousand enemies…the brave
one who fought the English with a
mortar and the Sudanese with a scorpion,
to at last give his life away…”
Another young man shouted out to him.
“Ask me in the name of Jesus Christ and
I`ll give you fifty birr…” he told him
laughing.
“It`s forbidden to stand here, if you
don`t have anything to do.” The homeless
answered. Everybody laughed. “Here is
my Christ…” he replied showing him the
picture of the king up in the air. Another
long laugh followed.
“In the name of the hero Mengestu
H.Mariam. Again any of you who would
love to say `Viva Ethiopia. Death to the
corrupt!` Please buy me my dinner.”
Mirage left the scene and went back to the
café he was sitting in and started to wait
for darkness to fell.
A young man came away from the mass
gathered to watch and sat near the corner
where Mirage was.
“Amazing!” said the young man of short
statue. He was talking to himself.
“What is amazing?” said Mirage guessing
that the young man was talking to him.
“The homeless.” said the young man
turning to Mirage. Then he brought out a
pen and a paper from his jacket is pocket
and started writing.
“Do you like poetry?” he said, as soon as
he was done writing.
“A lot!” Mirage answered. “I believe it is
the chariot of art that could ascend the
self to the heights of the Seventh Heaven
– to illumination. Are you a poet?” he
asked him, looking at the poem in his
hand.
“I was.” The short young man answered.
“What do you mean-you were?” said
Mirage in amazement.
“I used to be a poet. But I couldn`t find
anyone who would listen to my poems.
I`m waiting till I`m seventy. Perhaps then
I`ll get someone to read them. They
would love any kind of poem written at
that age. Here in Ethiopia, if you wanted
to be heard, you must grow white hair
first. Here people honor a guy with a
white hair better than his attitude. But a
whitened hair is none other than a
withered hair. What should be visible
about you to people, must be your brains
not your withered hair. Even rocks grow
a moss - a withered hair. Isn`t it enough
that this starving country made me
starved, why can`t it at least listen to my
artful poems?!...”
“This country is not starving …” Mirage
cut in.
“Yes it is. I mean its people are starving
while asleep. I`ve nothing against its
fertile mountains and rivers. May be there
is something that will bring them out of
their starvation. May be there is
something hidden deep inside my poetry.
But nobody is listening. They tell me, that
poetry has gone away with the past.
They`ve no desire to see a new younger
face. They keep honoring one person`s
name, always. They`ve got one laurite and
poet. Even he`d to bring himself out into
the world, to be labeled a laurite. Only
then, did they give him a place.
Everybody is now worshiping him, even
those who`ve never read his books. Just
because they saw others appreciate him.
That`s okay, let them admire him. I`ll
admire him too. But they`ve to accept
someone else too. They`ve to accept me
too. What would the future of Ethiopia
become, if its people can`t accept the
young as the frontiers of civilization?
“Who is he?” Mirage wanted to know.
“You`ll know him as soon as I read you
one of his poems.”
“Ok, can you please let me listen to his
poem?” suddenly Mirage was eager.
The young man went on reciting the
poem by heart, in a sweet tone of voice.
The poem wasn`t strange to Mirage. It
was the puzzle of his life
“The passion of Peter.” by Tsegaye.
The young poet was done saying the
whole poem with an elegance that amazed
Mirage. Also, he suspected that the man
had some hidden aim behind. He knew
there was a mystery connected with the
poem, which heightened his curiosity. The
only thing he was unable to do was to
connect the poem with the tattoo on his
back. Still no hint. He had imagined that
the numbers in the cross are somehow
related to the number of certain words in
the poem and he had counted the words
with Meroda. But the number of words
in the poem had no connection with the
numbers on his back. So what was it? Or
could it be a mathematical formula. He
had never seen a formula without
variables. He was still daydreaming when
the poet beside him rephrased a verse in
the poem again.
“I shall find a corner to hide, to cuddle
away where I can
I shall not be in loss of a place of
patience
Be it upon the tip of a splinter of my
cross,
Do you know the poet now?” he asked
him.
“Yes, I think I do.”Mirage replied.
“You see, the man is not only a poet, he
had hidden secrets in his poem. He is a
mysterious poet.”
“What kind of secrets?” Mirage asked
him in an overwhelming curiosity.
“Have you read the book?”
“Yes, I have read it.”
“How about the poem I read just now?”
“That too.”
“So what is the meaning of the verse
‘I shall find a corner to hide, to cuddle
away where I can
I shall not be in loss of a place of
patience
Be it upon the tip of a splinter of my
cross,’?” the poet asked him smiling.
“I can`t understand it either.” Mirage
replied perplexed.
“You see, the man mixes some confusing
words in his poems. I have even heard
people of literature mistranslating these
words without understanding them. So
now, what do you think is the tip of a
splinter of the cross?” he asked him once
again, this time he was very close to
mirage`s ear. “Have you ever seen a
splinter of Jesus’ cross with a tip?”
“But the poem was about Pop Peter. May
be he…”
“So what does it mean for pop Peter to
find a corner to hide, to cuddle away
where he can, that he shall not be in loss
of a place of patience, be it upon the tip
of a splinter of his cross?...anyway it’s
getting late I should go now, nice to meet
you and good bye.” He came to his feet
ready to leave.
“You haven`t yet read me the poem you
wrote.” Mirage said in an effort to keep
him a little longer. “Do you know
anything about this…I mean about the
Lauriat’s poem…The Passion of Peter?”
he too was almost on his feet.
“I have a trip ahead. I think you are on a
trip too. I will read you some other time
if we meet again.” He said and left him
there without a hint zipping up his
oversized jacket. Mirage followed him
with his eyes as though he can use them
as human magnets.
At half past eleven in the evening, the
church’s compound became as silent as
the graveyard behind it in the darkness.
Everyone had gone to bed. Birds had
ceased to fly. Cows and donkeys have
retreated to their shades. Mountains were
honoring the darkness in silence. But
rivers were still flowing. Now it is time
for the hyenas. They were howling from
every gorge and valley. Ethiopia had
slumbered of on its flag it lowered for
the night. The flies just as the nation were
asleep. A nation who had went to sleep
on its bed of black dimonds with hungry
bellies. The eyes of Ethiopians are shut
together with the setting sun, as though they were
created with light and couldn`t function
otherwise. He wondered and smiled. He
had heard that in this country curfews are
always imposed just because everybody
must be in bed after the sun went down.
He has now concluded it to be a country
that does not exist at night.
He spent most of the night walking from
one grave to another and reading the
names of dead people engraved on them
with the help of his flashlight. Ethiopians
have more respect to death than life he
thought, as he watched the meticulously
sculpted graves. They welcomed life with
nature`s free gifts while they anticipate death
with expensive gifts. Their graves are much
better than their living rooms. They live in old
huts while their dead bodies lie in priceless
monuments beautifully decorated with flowers. Is
this sane? He was thinking almost talking
to himself as he scanned the graveyard
for the grave he was looking for. He
reached a kind of a poor man`s grave
with only a single stone with a black cross
on its top to mark the man`s tomb. There
was a writing engraved on the cement
paved square area under it, which read: -
Abba Sirggaga 1886 – 1996.
He set down his bag and took a shovel
out. The rain started pouring as he started
digging. He held the small flashlight
between his teeth and dug following the
perimeter of the paved cement. At last,
he was able to detach the huge rock on
the mouth of the tomb. He could see
down the deep hole. There was no sign of
the remains of a body.
“What kind of a game is this?” he said
aloud flinging the shovel away. “What are
they trying to tell me by making me dig
an empty grave?” After a moment, a
second thought flashed in his mind and
he went down and tried to dig in the
bottom of the grave. His shovel made a
scratching sound. It was a small circular
red rock. He took it out and cleaned the
dirt from it. There were some letters
carved on one face of the rock –
Dertogada. With the help of his flashlight,
he found a type of key on the same
surface. He pushed it. The rock parted in
two halves. Its inside was hollow. He now
could see by the glittering inner surface
that the rock was really a copper
casing.He found a piece of scroll with a
short message on it:-

GOD WILL TELL YOU IN A DREAM

WHEN HE WANTED TO SAVE YOU.
He read it repeatedly but he couldn`t find
any meaning out of it. He searched the
backside. There was additional writing on
it.

BEHIND SAINT MARY`S PAINTING

BY SAINT LUKE

He sighed and sat down on the

gravestone. Where was this painting? He
knew it…he tried to remember.
He shoved the dirt in and was pushing
the stone back on the mouth of the tomb
when, he heard a rustle behind him. He
turned around. A man holding a taut
came face to face with him.
“You cannibal! Are you eating a corpse!”
he shouted at him in horror and started
throwing the stick in Mirage`s direction.
He moved to his side and dodged the
whirling stick.
“You cannibal! You see what this is?” he
showed him his horn. “When I blow this
the whole village will gather here.And
you will be charged of cannibalism. Let
them hear this God damned sin you
committed. You ate it all didn`t you?” he
was ready to sound the horn for the
whole village as a sign of distress.
“No I didn`t eat anything!” Mirage said
thinking quickly. “Abba Sirggaga`s body
was not in the grave_”
“Shut up! I don`t expect you to tell the
truth.”
Mirage found a way out. He had to lie.
That was his only way out. “I am his son.
I think I have the right to build a
monument for him! How dare you accuse
me of such acts? Go on! Who are you to
beat me on the very spot my father is
buried? Blow your horn! You will be fired
first thing in the morning!”
“The son of Abba Sirggaga?” the man
laughed in an irony.
“Yes, if you don’t believe me let me show
you a photograph of me and my dad
inside my bag.” Now his only desire was
to get his bag in his hands. The man
seemed to allow him so he walked to his
bag. As soon as he got a hold of it, he
dashed away in a sprint as he had never
run before in his life. After he was on safe
ground, he looked back. There was no
one who followed him.
CHAPTER 11
He embarked onto the aluminum bodied
boat, still carrying the exhaustion
unabated by the overnight rest he tried to
get in a room at Tana Hotel. Though the
bed was comfortable enough, he spent
most of the night rolling over from side
to side. He was restless with thought.
He knew where to find the painting of St.
Mary supposedly painted by the biblical
St. Luke. His problem was how to get
access to the message on the back of the
painting. Anyway, he was now headed to
where the painting was. As a child, he
used to make explanations about it to
tourists. Now he was traveling as a
tourist. Returning to who he was,back to
the monastery of his childhood - to the
monastery in the island of Kibran.
The young captain of the boat had asked
him, if he wanted a guide. But doctor
Mirage replied that he didn`t. Only the
two men were cruising across the lake in
the morning light.
It was still early dawn when the captain
the boat pulled the rope to the engine
starter. There were other boats at the
lake`s harbor, also hearting up their
engines the night had frozen. Most were
used for public transportation. Some
were boats used for transporting sand.
Mirage gazed at the old boats and was
struck with a sudden fit of nostalgia.
They haven`t changed a bit in all these
years.
The Tananesh - a transport boat that
sailed for two days on her routine voyage
from Bahir - Dar to Gorgora was also
making itself ready to surf the lake. As
his memory kept unwinding, he wondered
how history could be so slow moving.
The Tana`nesh was the largest and most
spacious of all the boats sailing on Tana
with two powerful engines. It can sail to
Gorgora loaded with a cargo of 1000
tons, only with 600 liters of fuel. After it
left its departure point - Bahir Dar, it
continued to Gorgora making a stop at
Zegae, Gurer, Qunzela, Asfa-Deber and Dalgi
along its route. It carried back all kinds
of goods and antiquities.
The two boats by the name Fasilae-Des
and Dil-Betegil came to his vision, still
docked at the port. Dahlak and Yekatit -
modern boats purchased from Hungary
and the Netherlands respectively - were
silently docked. The remaining boats were
so aged that their elderly exhaustion
could be heard from the loud harsh
sounds of their engines. These were the
sand boats which were first brought to the
lake by the invading Italian army. Later
the army submerged them near Angara
Island when it was defeated and was
forced to flee. They were resurfaced by
another Italian-Busky.
Mirage shifted his gaze to the expanse of
the lake. Lake Tana is the largest of all the
lakes in Ethiopia. It is the largest of all
the lakes in the whole country. It has a
surface area of 3600 kilometer square
with a width of 60 kilometers and a base
of 75 kilometers. Tana is a mysterious
lake found at 6000 feet above sea level. It
has more mystery inside it, than the 4
billion cubic meters of water it contained.
Tana is always wet. Its shores lined up
with the peculiar granite stones are always
fed by the waters of at least 30 rivers
originating out of Gojam and Gondar.
The towns of Zegae, Gorgora and Fogeraare
along its coast, connected to it with the
smaller rivers of Reb and Gumara. A lake,
which holds everything – water, soil,
history, skeletons, logs, and life. But Tana
was rarely satisfied. When it does, it
empties its bowls into the Nile through
its eastern gate. During the winter at New
Year`s Eve, nearly 400meter cubes of
water joined the Nile every second. The
amount goes a little down, in the summer
of Tahsas - the fourth month of the year -
to about 100-meter cube of water per
second. At the end of its cycle, its
magnanimity goes all the way down to 10-
meter cubes of water per second that
would be in the autumn. The driest
season of Tanawhen, it would mostly be
accepting, going through a period of
labor. Again at the end of winter, if given
birth again through the help of the Angel
of Geon –it becomes giving again.
Leaving behind the Abyssinians still in
their deep sleep, it quickens to the ever-
awake Egyptians waiting for it in a
defensive gladness.
The boat motored across the greenish
lake carrying Mirage, for about 45
minutes on a coarse North West of Bahir
Dar. Finally it arrived at the two islands.
Both of the islands are magnificent to
look at, with an unmatched beauty
harmonized by the mesh of hills and the
natural green vastness of forest. They had
a strong resemblance with the two firm
breasts of a young girl. Eagles suckle at
them. The waves crash upon their
surfaces. These islands were always green
in summer or in winter-as though the
songs of the birds and the prayers of the
monks were enough to ever maintain
their lush green color.
As the boat set anchor on the shore to
the men`s only monastery, Mirage for a
moment looked towards its double for
women - Entons. His feelings accentuated
by the wet sweet aroma of the islands a
wave of nostalgia about Zipporah and
the islands created turmoil inside his soul.
He felt the twin islands where he and
Zipporah tasted the glory of love that
plunged him into a double life. Recalling
the past was as painful as it could get for
him. Every single cell in him called and
cried for Zipporah. His face was
contorted in pain as the captain left him
in the boat and went up the hill. He
wondered, what brought me back here!
When he reached the top of Kibran
Gabriel Island, he found the tree still
standing with all the majesty it used to
have. He even saw the curtains behind
which he chanted the sacred prayers. The
scents from incents he recalled were the
same as ever. He wasn`t listening to a
single word from what his guide monk
was telling him about the place. He was
lost in the middle of the history that
brought him up. Tears filled his eyes as
his memory played back everything it
recorded long ago. He wanted to cry out
aloud. He didn`t know why. But he felt
the modern world was melting out of
him. His knowledge about healing people
was also dying away, leaving him unable
to find a cure for himself.
However much he tried, he couldn`t
focus on the matter at hand. Then
suddenly he heard the monk talk as if
from far away.
“This is the painting of our virgin
Mother Holy Mary, by Saint Luke_” the
monk was saying.
“If you don`t mind, father, I would like
to kiss the painting.” He said, getting
closes to the picture. The monk smiled.
“I made a pledge to God, that I would say
my prayers under the sacred painting of
St. Luke`s Virgin Mother Mary, if she
safely returned me back to my country.
Let me pray please?” he pleaded.
The monk looked at him for a long
moment smoothening down his long
beard with his left hand. Then he pointed
to the painting with the cross he held in
his right hand, as a sign of his consent.
His prayer wasn`t whole, hearted as he
knelt down in front of the painting and
very cautiously begun exploring the back
of the painting with his right hand. He
was of course thinking about the message
he was supposed to find there. The monk
was following his moves surreptitiously.
At first he panicked when he couldn`t
find any kind of message. Then he was
paralyzed with frustration. If there were
no message it would mean the end of his
vision that he`d sacrificed everything for.
He would be in the dark about what to do
next. He desperately needed this one lead.
But he found nothing. He rose up before
his prayers were over. Was he going to retreat
now? He wondered. He recalled what the
engineer had told him, “You will lose your
direction as long as you doubt.” He pretended
to kiss the painting just to impress the
monk. He stood looking at it, lost in
desperation.
“What are you doing?” the monk asked
him in anger. “Leave now!” he held the
door that led out of the antiquities room,
looking at him with wide open eyes.
Mirage was startled.
“Abba…I mean…here…”
“I know what you mean, you want to steal
it. I said get out of here…otherwise…”
the monk said producing the small
trumpet blown during an emergency that
summons all of the monks. He prepared
to blow it.
“No Abba. You are doing the wrong
thing. Wait!” Mirage told him, almost
pleading. The monk lowered the trumpet.
“Ok, let`s hear it!” said the majestic
monk. His graceful presence alone could
make any one tremble a bit. “Testify why
you were here! Tell me what you are
planning to steal! Speak now!” he took
the trumpet to his mouth one more time.
“Listen to me Abba…I`m not here to
steal anything.”
“I said get out of here! You will tell me
what you`ve to say outside.”
“There is something I want from you …”
“Are you trying to make me part of your
evil plan? Are you going to ask me to
steal with you? Hands up!”
The monk took off his enormous praying
beads hung from a strong chord from
around his neck. Surely it could also
become an effective weapon. Then the
monk produced a chain with a key. He
took both his hands and locked them
together behind. The monk then locked
the door and left Mirage alone in the
antique store room.
He came back after about twenty minutes.
“Doctor Mirage?” the monk addressed
him.
He wasn`t at all expecting to hear his
name called here. He was startled. The
monk knew him?!
“Ye…yes?” Mirage answered trying to
regain his composure as the monk untied
him.
“This is a message I`m supposed to hand
to you.” The monk said holding out
something wrapped in a piece of
ornamental cloth. “But first you must
give me what you found in Abba
Sirgaga`s grave.” The exchange was over
in seconds.
Just when he was about to unwrap the
mysterious package, “Doctor Mirage, new
tourists are coming. You can take it with
you.” the monk said walking in the
direction of the door. He followed the
monk out the door, putting the package
in his pocket.
“Abba I`ve a question…”
“I got no answers for you.” The monk cut
him short. My task was to give you the
message. That was it. But you can`ve my
blessing.” The monk said, offering him
the cross he held, so that he may kiss it.
Which he did. The majestic monk left
him without another word, straight to the
tourists from Addis.
He went down the hill and as he reached
the coast of the lake, he stood under the
shade of a huge tree to see what was
inside the sacred wrapping. He was
amazed when he looked at the small piece
of Berana paper that emerged out of all
the bulky mass of textile. He read the
words written in the native language.

AGAINST THE FIERCE

TURBULENT WAVES AND THE
PENDEMONIUSNESS OF WHITE
HORSES,
WATCH THEM EVEN BLACK ANTS
CROSS THE RIVER,
NEVER SURRENDERING IN
DOUBT,
NOR BREAKING UP IN DISCORD.

He found the mission for his next journey

on the back of the small parchment. It
read:-

YOU WILL FIND THE NEXT

MESSAGE UNDER THE
SACRIFICIAL ALTAR.

He folded the paper tucked it in his

pocket and continued to the shore.
As he embarked on the boat, he noticed
that the lake had pacified. The wind had
ceased, creating the beauty of calmness by
its absence. The sun was getting more
powerful.
The captain woke from his nap upon
Mirage`s appearance and started the
engine, constricting his eyes against the
light reflected from the lake.
Doctor Mirage didn`t want to return. His
mind was occupied completely with the
mystery of the next puzzle. He offered
the captain an additional amount of
money, to take him to Tana Kirkos,
another monastery on another island in
Tana. The captain changed the boat`s
course towards the island of Tana Kirkos.
Mirage knew that the sacrificial altar was
on that island. The monastery in Tana
kirkos.
Before he could realize for how many
minutes he`d been deep in thought, the
boat reached its destination. They tied the
boat to a wooden post on the dock.
Mirage told the captain to wait in the
boat and went hurriedly to the direction
of the Tana Kirkos monastery.
A mystery among the mysterious islands
of Tana, Kirkos is found on the eastern tip
of Tana, attracting the attentions of
researchers for many years. One of the
dearest cultural and historic heritages the
country has, this island was entitled the
monastic honor before 982B.C. The
sacrificial altar and other pro - Old
Testament artifacts in the monastery were
witnesses of its long history. One tip of
the island is always adjacent the lake;
while the other tip of the island connects
with the inland town Fogera, at certain
times of the year when the water level
lowered. On its east side the St. Christos
Semra, and on its west the Daga Estefanos
monastic islands are found nearest to it.
The Tana Kirkos Island seems to be built
from an underwater base up to the
surface, by a very professional architect -
especially its eastern side. The layer of
naturally cut rocks presents a spectacular
scene.
Doctor Mirage made his way up the
narrow road towards the top of the hill,
listening to the sweet symphonies of the
waves as they gently crash upon the rocks
and the songs of the birds coming out of
the forest.
As he reached the church on the top of
the hill, an old monk appeared out of the
forest in front of him. He was holding
keys, which clinked as he walked along.
He humbly bowed to him in greeting.
“Are you here for a visit?” the monk
asked him.
“Yes Abba.” Mirage answered. The cold
breeze had refreshed his body. The place
was absolutely quiet, except for the cries
of pelicans flying off the trees towards
the lake and the rustling sound of the
waves.
The monk guided him past the church`s
ancient doors to show him the age old
paintings on the walls. When the visit was
over the monk went back to the main gate
followed by Mirage, closing each door
behind him.
The monk led him to the monastery`s
store room, all the time talking to him
about the history of the place, with a
relentless ruffling voice.
“You should Praise God for letting you
stand upon this sacred place.” The monk
said. “It is the holy resting place of
God`s glorious throne-The Arc of Zion.
It is found written in the holy book of
Dirsane Ourael, that, after the birth of
Christ, when Herod wanted to kill the
new born baby, his Mother fled to the
land of Egypt and continued her exile to
Ethiopia, where she stayed as a refugee
here in this holy place. The full account
of the story of Lord`s exile and the life
of Holy Mary here is written on a book
called Dirsane Mariam - found only in this
monastery. Mother of Jesus Christ, virgin
Mary stayed here for three months and
ten days.” the old monk explained.
He went on his explanation, now opening
the gate to the storeroom. “When the
angle who was guiding our Holy Mother
told Joseph in a dream to take her and the
child with him and to go; Joseph then
pleaded the child saying “Tse`ana
Bedemena” meaning “carry her on a cloud”.
That was the origin of the name for the
monastery “Tana Kirkos” and the lake
“Tana”. You can read ancient scriptures if
you want an evidence. The monk said
entering the storeroom and inviting him
to come in. the monk was strangely
looking at him, almost studying his every
features.
In the store room there were ancient
manuscripts, old books and artifacts-the
first translation of the Bible into Ge`ez,
the book of Henok, the book of Hawie, the
hand held cross, cloak of St.Yared an
Ethiopian musical genius who had
composed the unique Ethiopian
Orthodox church choirs. His book
written in his own handwriting could also
be found as a volume with no labels. In
addition, there were church antiques
made out of gold and silver, a thousand
year old paintings and many more
historical collections. He was amazed to
see manuscripts and scrolls hanging down
from ropes tied on the ceiling, to protect
them from rats.
“Even this method of protection is not
very effective.” The monk told him on
their way out. “The rats can still go up
the ceiling and cut the ropes.”
They left the storeroom. Mirage felt sad
about the unfortunate fate of these
valueless artifacts. The monk led him
down a narrow path, which had a thick
overgrowth of thorns bushes and shrubs.
They went up a tight stair at the end of
the path to a vast meadow. Here he
watched the place where the priests who
brought the Arc of Zion to the island
used to offer blood sacrifices. Looking at
the same environment and custom he`d
read about on the Old Testament, made
him believe beyond doubt that the Ark
had really dwelled here for more than 300
years. However, everything he was
looking at created too much curiosity of
exploring more about the island, his mind
never for a moment wandered away from
his prime mission of finding the lead that
would show him his next destination.
As he was looking around and under the
sacrificial altar for the message he was
supposed to find the monk left him alone
and went off without a word into the
forest. He knew from his childhood that
this was a tourist`s favorite island, that no
tourist guide went into an explanation as
detailed as this monk did. He knew there
were certain issues about these islands
that the monks must keep secret from
visitors. He wondered why he was being
privileged to gain access.
He finally found a rectangular stone
under the altar. He picked the strange red
stone and cleaned the dirt off its surface
using his palms. When he examined it, he
saw some kind of writing inscribed on
the surfaces. He immediately became sure
that this was the message he was looking
for, because he could make out his own
name among the other words. One other
phrase read: - “Maher Shalal Hash Baz”
He unpacked his travel bag pack and
brought out a Bible. He navigated to the
eighth chapter of Isaiah and read the first
verse:-
“Moreover the LORD said unto me, Take
thee a great roll, and write in it with a
man`s pen concerning
Mahershalalhashbaz.”

The Meaning of the phrase in Hebrew

`Maher Shalal Hash Baz` was exactly as the
engineer expressed it. But, also he
understood its meaning; he didn`t know
why it was associated with him. So he
tried to make sense out of it from
different points of views.
Also, since he was on a mission
concerning his country, he searched his
mind for a connection between the verse
and the existing situation of his country.
“Yes,” Mirage said to himself, still holding
the crimson rock in his hand. “The Spoil
Speedeth; the Prey Hasteth. My country is
being a prey to traitors and reductionists.
Its people have become submissive to
their superiors. It is full of a frustrated
majority. Its youth is being persecuted
through their own forced actions of exile
in search of a livelihood. Its women are
in servitude in Arab countries. Moreover,
the remaining with nowhere to go, are
asking balms from the rich nations, all the
time asleep upon their land of black
diamonds. Yes, a minority are predators
and spoilers. And a majority are prays and
the spoilt. Ethiopia is now plunged in
such sadness and its spirit is broken.”
He spent some time staring at the vast
expanse to Tana and the green lands of
Fogera beyond. Then he was taken over
with an emotion he`d never felt before,
that plunged him into a state of trance.
Before he could realize what he was
doing, he found himself shouting aloud
the words: - “Maher Shalal Hash Baz!”
Just at the instant of his tentative insanity,
the monk appeared out of the forest
holding a yellow colored monk`s robe.
He gave it to Mirage.
“What shall I do with it?” Mirage asked,
puzzled.
“This is the second message for you. You
are to wear it when you go there.” said
the monk in his trembling voice.
“Where am I going?” he asked, his
puzzled curiosity increasing every
moment.
“That, I also have no idea. I was told to
give you the robe only, nothing more.”
The monk made his unsolved mystery
even more mysterious. Moreover, started
back toward the forest leaving him where
he stood as a statue.
As the monk was about to enter the thick
forest, he raised his voice and said, “And
don`t forget to throw your shoes away.”
He stood there alone for a moment trying
to make sense of the situation. But he did
as he was told.
He took off his shoes and put them in his
bag. His delicate feet trembled as he tried
to walk over the gravel-paved path. He
had no idea how his feet could get along
with it.
He wore the yellow robe and the red
monk`s hat that came along with it.Then
he started to think about his next
destination, of which he was completely
in the dark.
After a moment he started studying the
only lead he had in his hand right now-
the red stone. He realized suddenly that
there were other words in smaller
alphabets written on it. It said `wenebo
keme yanzer`. He was familiar with these
three Ge`ez words. He knew the
meanings of each word, but he was not
sure of the meaning they generated when
they came together. Still holding the red
stone, he carried back his bag-pack and
went down the hill along the narrow path
towards the boat.
This time again the captain was asleep
inside the boat, covering his face with his
jacket. He woke startled by the sudden
movements the boat made as Mirage went
on board.
The captain looked at Mirage in surprise.
His transformation was unbelievable. He
wondered how it was possible for a very
modern man just a few hours ago, to
become a monk all of a sudden. Mirage
seemed like a secluded monk who`d spent
most of his life in the wilderness. And he
was holding a red stone in his hand.
“You are a monk now?” the captain asked
in amazement. Mirage didn`t answer.
He was intent on trying to remember
where he heard the three Ge`ez words
“Wenebo Keme Yanzer”. He took his guitar
and tenderly touched the strings, still
trying to recollect his memory. The
captain looked at him in silence.
For a moment, a flash of past memories
flickered in his mind as though they used
the notes of his guitar as a passage. But
they were gone as fast as they appeared.
He remembered the men`s monastery
Abba Jenberu took him to when he was a
child. There he`d seen the sword which
belonged to King Zer`a Yakob - the
Ethiopian philosopher and king. The king
carried the sword all his life. Now he
recalled the writing perfectly well. Those
words were written on the blade.
“I found it!” he shouted suddenly
jumping up in the boat creating a small
tremor. “Now drive the boat directly to
Daga Estefan.” He told the captain.
He was absolutely sure about the sword
with the three words he saw when Abba
Jenberu took him to visit the Daga
Estefan`s monastery.
A strong wind on a course from Gorgora
to Bahir Dar was riding the white horses
it created on Tana. As the last rays of the
sun painted the sky an enchanting red
color in the west, the boat sped away
towards Daga Estefan monastery gliding
up and down the waves, though she was
bowing to them as a tribute for their
honor. The hot red evening sun was
circled around by a thick blackish cloud.
It made it look like an eye hidden behind
the clouds, looking down at the lake.
Moreover, Tana seemed in turmoil below
its rays.
Black long winged eagles fly towards
Gorgora in an orderly fashion like jet-
planes. They move in patterns, following
the laws of eagles.
“Look!” Mirage said looking up at the
eagles flying across the sky above the lake.
“Eagles trust their leader.”
The captain looked up, “The eagle at the
front is not really leading the others. He is
going his own way, same as our leader. He
is flying fast enough to attend the feast
sooner than anybody else.”
“Do you know where they are going?”
“To the land of Eritrea.” replied the
captain, laughing as though there was an
irony in his answer.
“Eagles and birds are the only ones that
Ethiopia and Eritrea haven`t succeeded
in separating. A vulture in Ethiopia has
the birdly right to fly like a jet into Eritrea,
if there is a carcass lying in Eritrea. And
if famine deprived the eagles in either of
the two countries with love they share
what they can get in the better of the two
countries. When you look at them, you
would wish you were they. When the
people of the two countries were kept off
from each other with boarders lined with
land mines, only eagles and birds were
still together. To speak the truth, neither
of the people in the two countries
recognized Eritrea as an independent
country. And in truth, how can a country
without real boarders labeled as a
`Country`? Our fellow men in Eritrea
have a saying that even their camels
identified the Ethiopian flag. I hope that
one day we are together again. It`s very
unfortunate that when European
countries were struggling to use a single
currency, a single visa to travel among
themselves and even to be recognized
under the same flag, we are getting
shattered to pieces. However, these eagles
have succeeded in joining back the
soldiers of the two countries who were
born from the same womb. These eagles
are ambassadors for the two counties.
They will keep flying between their
borders until these countries one day set a
net to divide their skies.”
“And even if they succeeded to ban the
eagles` flight, the rivers will still continue
to flow between them.” said Mirage with
a smile. The unending group of black
eagles continued to flock along with the
white pelicans.
“And these are Ethiopian space shuttles.”
said the captain still joking. “You see
Ethiopia launches shuttles every day to
space. And every day they came back
safely. We`ve controlled space before
anyone else. Do you know anything about
the American Space Agency?” the captain
asked with a smile.
“Yes, do you mean NASA?”
“How about the Ethiopian scientist who
used to work in NASA?”
“Who is he?”
“Haven`t you heard about Engineer
Shagiz?”
“Do you know him?”
“Yea! He had been the talk of the town
here in Ethiopia. And he deserved to be
talked about. It is amazing to find an
Ethiopian head of shuttle design and
launch division of NASA, when the
country is still using oxen to plough the
land. I admire his bravery! He`s got
brains! He is our pride. But what good is
he here we only had pelicans for space
shuttles… Ethiopia has two extreme
faces. He left her to mind her own
business. How could Ethiopia use
engineer Shagiz? They are going their
separate ways. Sometimes the student gets
better than the teacher. The land he grew
up is still in darkness when he is walking
in the light. He`d gone beyond our world,
to study the valleys and mountains of
Moon and Mars. And we are the same as
ever. You`ll find us unchanged after even
one hundred years. You`ll find the same
Tana and the same flower covered
mountains. Sometimes they bloom and
sometimes they wither. Life in Ethiopia
goes on in shifts. The people are like
flowers also, they bloom when it rains and
they wither when it gets dry. That`s it!”
the captain told him.
Doctor Mirage kept his gaze on the
captain listening to him attentively. When
the captain was silent again, Mirage
picked up the binoculars and begun
searching for the island of Daga
Estefan`s. It seemed to him the boat was
sailing backwards. He was eager to reach
the island.
As he continued scanning the lake, one of
the main islands on the - Daga - suddenly
appeared in front of him. It looked as if
covered with a green blanket.
He tried to look at it without his
binoculars. He saw a small patch of land
the size of a big plate from very far away.
The holy island of Daga...
The boat went closer and closer. And the
small patch of land became larger and
larger. It seemed to move sideways in
both directions following the boat`s
movements. The setting sun`s dim rays
were shining down their reddish golden
light, managed to escape the blackness of
the clouds. All of nature was creating a
beautiful sight on the island.
The island kept coming closer to their
view. The western part of the island was a
green mound made up of a hill and an
overgrowth so thick, while the eastern
part was another green covered field.
From east to west it stretches for five
kilometers. It gave a bird`s eye view, bear
a close resemblance to a big green eagle
fallen over the lake spreading its wings to
its sides. The dwellers gave its shape a
likeness with the cross in the gospel or
Noah`s Ark of the Old Testament. In
reality if it hadn`t been covered with the
forest, it looked just like a ship half
submerged under water - The Great Floods?
After about two hours of voyage the boat
docked on the shores of an old port at
the west end of Daga Island. It
continuously rocked under the crashing
power of the waves that were battling it
out with the black reefs alongside the
island. Out of the green came three
monks wearing the yellowish monastic
garments similar to the one that was
given to Mirage on the island of
TanaKirkos.
One of them was very old. His white
beard as white as a snow flake lies on his
chest on the surface of the yellow
garment. He was a little lean and with a
tanned complexion, which was natural.
He looked at Mirage as he stood in the
middle of the two monks. Then he went
back without saying anything.
“Welcome, with the help of the Holy
One.” said one of the two remaining
monks.
“Why did you choose the night for a
visit?” demanded the second monk with a
black beard. A flicker of his smile
betrayed white healthy teeth beneath his
mustache to quickly fade away.
“We were late because of the waves.”
answered Mirage studying the monk`s
face.
The captain came closer to Mirage and
said, “I`m going back.”
“At this time of the night!” said Mirage a
little concerned.
“I`m supposed to drive some Italian
tourists who are arriving here tomorrow.
If you give me a call anytime, I will come
and take you back.” the captain told him.
Then he wrote down his phone number
on a piece of paper and gave it to Mirage.
“You better spend the night here.”
“It is my job. I should be there first thing
in the morning. You just have to give me
a call.”
With that, the captain departed. They
could hear the roar of his boat as he
started his return trip to Bahir-Dar.
Mirage reached the gates of the
monastery with the two monks as his
guide, where there was a sign “Daga
Estefan Monastery” written on a board
near the entrance. Another sign nearby
warns women not to enter the monastery.
Inside the vast compound, they followed
a narrow path. The remaining part of the
territory was almost entirely covered by
trees. He recalled reading somewhere that
more than twenty-five endemic trees
grow here. As the aromatic fragrances of
the flowers reached his nostrils his spirit
begun feeling at ease. At some distance
from the entrance, there was the mill. The
monks told him that the former president
was responsible for providing the grain
mill that operated by a generator. Mirage
was amazed to hear this since the dictator
was anything but spiritual. They said the
president spent some time here near the
end of his administration and was very
glad to see the unity among the monks.
That was his reason to support the
monastic society.
An estimated three hundred monks dwell
on the island. But Daga is too quite
except for the sound of the lake and the
sweet songs of the birds. When Mirage
listened to the sound of water from the
waves hitting the ebony colored stones on
the shore, harmonized with the voices of
the frogs and toads, he felt as if he was
listening to a symphony by a famous
composer. His aching muscles started to
relax and his worried soul began to feel at
ease. His inner self danced with joy
inspired by a feeling of feasting that he
couldn`t tell the source. He wondered
maybe the spring flowers on this island
could be emitting an aroma with the
power to stimulate the glands in the
bodies` of human beings into joy.
Otherwise why else could I be feeling so much joy,
unless I smelt a laughing gas? He silently
laughed at his thought.
Quietly the two monks continued to
follow the narrow track in the jungle of
the island until they saw another monk on
their way. Mirage was closely following
them behind. They signed to him to stay
and walked towards the elderly monk.
After a while they returned back to him
and the darker and bearded monk said.
“The head monk of the monastery
allowed your stay in the monastery.”
Mirage knew it is impossible to spend a
single night there without the permit
from the head monk, so he bowed as a
sign of gratitude.
The monks who were in their prayer hats
for the night services were leaving, and all
of them gave Mirage a welcoming salute.
Their style of greeting was different and
unique. The moment they saw him any of
them would bow and then they would
come towards him and kiss both of his
shoulders. They looked like fowls
charging for a fight when they run
lowering their upper body parts and their
heads to the ground. It was a symbol of
respect and humbleness. They kept this
tradition for centuries. They perform this
somewhat “tedious” routine everyday
whenever they met each other after
prayer. This kind of courtesy and respect
for one on other was the strong bond that
held them together. Speaking in a loud
voice, ridiculing a fellow monk,
insubordination, eating too much,
skipping fasting days, etc… were seriously
forbidden acts.
When Dr. Mirage saw the prefect
brotherhood in the island his childhood
memory came rushing back. Kibran was a
monastery of a community of monks
therefore; they shared so many cultures,
folklores and traditions among them. He
knew that all islands on the Lake have had
strong attachment to one another.
He was not worried about being confused
about the tradition and culture of the
island because he learnt it while he was a
child when he came to visit the island
with Abba Jenberu, so he returned the
courteous greetings of the monks as
politely as them.
The two monks led him off the road to a
solitary traditionally built cottage. Its
roof was covered with dried grass, the
ceiling was made of stone and mud, and
they were covered with handmade rugs
of reeds. The traditional torch was lit and
fixed on the wall pushed the darkness
outside of the small hut.
Many insects sang and danced around the
thin rays that escaped between the cracks
of the logs of the old door. The insects
looked like as if they were reading from
the book spread on their wings with the
support of the rays of the torch, and they
almost seemed to murmur something - a
prayer from the book.
When Mirage entered the hut where the
monk arose from the handmade rug he
was sitting on.
“He is also a guest like you. Get
acquainted.” The dark faced monk said.
“The administrator of the monastery will
visit you soon.” And the two monks shut
the door to the hut and were gone.
Mirage bowed to the monk and sat down.
They sat on mud-molded benches - also
used as beds - attached to the walls facing
each other. They kept silent. The unfitting
monk`s robe the stranger monk wore
made his muscular body appear as a
pregnant woman. He didn`t notice that
his garb was touching the ground. Part of
his dark hair that escaped out of his
bonnet matched the color of his face. His
face that was full of scars and his broken
nose clearly spoke about his notorious
pervious life. The beards spread down his
chin as though it was a colony of ants on
a march.
After glancing repeatedly at the guest
monk – which he can`t help - Mirage`s
mind pictured an image of a dangerous
fugitive. He thought, forget about this guy
being a monk, he doesn`t seem to have heard the
word monk once in his entire life time.Not only
doesn`t he wear the costume properly, but his
body is so muscular to fit into the word `monk`
– may be a wrestler.He doesn`t at all look like a
monk who fasted and prayed all year. Rather he
looked like a man who feeds the whole week.
“What is your name?” he asked Mirage
after he yawned revealing his toothless
red gums for a moment.
Mirage automatically knew that man is a
new to the monastic life or to the island
itself, because he referred to him using
the pronoun usually used to address a
young boy in school or street, not for
religious or elderly people. Who the hell
gave this man the title of a monk, Mirage
wondered. Suddenly his mind confronted
him “What about you? You were only ordered
to wear the costumes and follow instructions.
You were not bestowed the title neither!”
He brought himself back from his
thoughts and put his four fingers to his
mouth, as the tradition commands to
speak quietly.
“My name is Mirage” he said.
The guest monk must have remembered
the tradition in the monasteries; he
started to address Mirage with the
respectful pronoun of respect, used in the
Ethiopian dialect.
“Where are you from – Abba Mirage?”
said the guest with his harsh voice that he
was unable to control.
Not only his loud voice but also his
manner of questioning made it clear that
he had nothing that matches the rules and
way of life of the monastery. Anyone
who is accustomed to the tradition of
Ethiopian monasteries would never ask
another person where they were from,
because in everyone who chose to live a
monastic life is assumed to be called by
God and thus dwelled with Him. So
nobody enquired about where a monk`s
lived, his race, rank or wealth. So far as he
respected the laws of the monastery he
would not be asked whether he was an
Israelite, an Ethiopian, an Egyptian, an
Amhara, Oromo, Tigre, or whatever else
there was to know about his identity. But
if ever he was to be asked, a true monk
would never speak about his identities. In
case it was a crucial importance to check
about the background of a monk, the
task would be the responsibility of the
abbot or the administrator of the
monastery. Now it was Mirage who was
forced to be the biggest liar of the night.
“I`m from the Monastery of Waldeba.”
he replied.
The muscular monk asked, “Where is this
Waldeba monastery?”
“I don`t think there is any monk around
here who doesn`t know about the
monastery of Waldeba?”
“You got one now.” The weird monk
replied. When he opened his dark lips, his
toothless gum looked like a flame from a
charcoal.
“You are not telling me that you`ve never
heard of Waldeba. Are you?”
“I was just joking. How could a monk not
know about Waldeba?” he was about to
say I am Abba Diola. But he swallowed the
words.
Before Diola came here to live as a monk
in this monastery, from Sicily flying the
private jet of don Mormordino, he
studied all the necessary traditions of the
monastery. And, he knew that if some
doubtful behavior was to be exposed he
would be deported back to Sicily and his
lifelong dream would go to its grave.
Just then, the administrator of the
monastery entered the room and greeted
the two monks with the age long, time
taking style of greeting, and sat down.
After he thought for some seconds
looking at the ground he asked the monks
“Do you intend to stay in the
monastery?” still looking at the ground.
“Yes! I intend to stay here!” Abba Diola
answered quickly.
“If it`s God`s will.” Replied Abba Mirage
slightly lowering his head.
“If you have ever stayed in other
monasteries you would know the custom
of all the Ethiopian monasteries. So it
may be an insult if I tell you what you
already knew. Water doesn`t flow up…
unless it uses some kind of pump.” He
searched the floor with his down cast eyes
as if he was looking for some lost item
and continued “Like all the other
monasteries in Ethiopia, this one is also is
guided by the book of monks. The only
difference is that …the monastery was
able to preserve several precious treasures
–of the country and the church - those
were preserved from various mischievous
incidents of different times and places in
the country and brought here for safety
by our fathers and grandfathers. So every
monk, including you, has the spiritual as
well as moral obligation to protect the
safety of these treasures as soon as he
became a resident monk.” The
administrator completed his speech still
looking at the ground.
“You don`t have to worry. I have always
been waiting for the right time when I
shall be able to take the burden of taking
care of my national responsibility.” Abba
Diola said
The administrator monk went on “The
rest of the rules and regulations of the
monastery are similar to other
monasteries of the country. The cause of
our monastic life is the son of Virgin
Mary - Jesus Christ. Once, his disciples
had asked him if marriage is important
and he had replied to them with his holy
words `Not all men can receive this percept, but
only those to whom it is given. For there are
eunuchs who have been so from birth, and there
are eunuchs who have been eunuchs by men, and
there are eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom
of heaven. He, who is able to receive this, let him
receive it.` We can find this on Matthew
19:10. Likewise, we the residents of this
monastery are eunuchs of Christ. Christ
told to his disciples that some of us
might have been castrated by men. But
most of us are eunuchs by ourselves for
the sake of the kingdom of God.”
For the first time he raised his eyes to
meet the eyes of the two monks. After he
watched each monk for some while, he
went on with his speech.
“St. Paul taught us saying ‘Don`t use your
organs as weapons of destructions.’Therefore,
we have to castrate our negative state of
mind rather than physical castration of
our bodily organs. A monk with a
castrated organ but an evil state of mind
is not a monk.” Right when he said this,
the Abbot raised his eyes to Abba Diola.
Abba Diola contracted into his monks
robes for fear of what the Abbot`s might
be thinking. Has he known my heart`s
secretes?
The old monk continued, “Brother
Monks you see in this monastery are
those eunuchs by themselves for the sake
of the kingdom of Heaven. They left this
world and stuck to their savior, so they
bear the dark night and the fierce voices
of wild animals. They wear bonnets as the
symbol of the crown of thorns worn by
Jesus, and tied their waist with iron chairs
and fought the devil. Some of them were
wealthy of the earthly material life but
they despised it and choose his word
`Drop everything and follow me.` So they
started to live in this monastery sleeping
in the dust and wearing black robes and
praying day and night for the love and
search of the eternal world.”
While he was saying that two monks
arrived carrying water and bowls for
washing the feet of the two guests. The
guests refused to be washed by the hands
of the two monks. But the two monks
never gave up. Even additional monks
entered the room and started to snatch on
the bowels and begun to contest for a
chance to wash the newly arrived monks`
feet.The guests had no choice but to let
the monks wash their feet. That was a
customary action of the monks every
time a gust arrived. It was to follow the
example of Jesus washing his disciples`
feet. So the two monks each took
Mirage`s feet and similarly other two took
the big, ugly feet of Diola. It was his first
time since his infancy, for Diola to get his
feet washed, so he felt like a lord.
He pictured himself at the seat of his
master - Don Mormordino and fantasized
ruling Sicily. He saw drawing the ladder
to lordship, and murmured to himself,
‘To become a lord you must be a slave
onetime.’
Abba Mirage saw that Abba Diola`s little
finger was missing when he washed his
hands. Where had his little finger gone? He
wondered.
After the washing ceremony was over, all
the monks stood up.
“Please give us your blessing father,” one
of them said. The abbot blessed all the
monks in the name of Jesus Christ and
together they prayed.
Our Father, who art in heaven
Holy be thy name
Thy kingdom may come on earth
As it is in heaven
Give us this day our daily bread…
And forgive us and our trespassing
As we forgive those who trespassed
against us.
And lead us not into temptation…

The resident monks brought dinner to

the guests and went back to their huts.
After saying grace, the two monks started
eating. Before tasting the food, Abba
Mirage picked a piece of Engera - local
food similar to a pita bread - and brought
it to the Abbot bending his body down in
courtesy, and said “Your blessing, Father.”
The old monk blessed the food feeling
delighted that the new member hadn`t
forgotten the custom.
Abba Diola was quick to start eating
because he knew nothing of dinning
manners. Even if Abba Diola was the
first to start the eating he didn`t like the
food. The enjera was prepared from
“Dagussa” – a type of cereal - and it
looked hard to swallow. What kind of food
is this! He said to himself. But he feared
that his pretence of a monk would be
blown up if he refused to eat it. The
sausage was brought to him in a broken
`kill`. He thought it would jump and
strangle them. It looked like something
scooped from muddy floodwater. How do
these monks survive eating this? He
wondered. Kingdom of heaven cannot be
enough for them. They deserve more. Wait! This
kingdom of heaven, what is it? How can a man
despise the world at his hands and longs for the
unknown and unattainable world? No, I will
never despise my world! Each of you can go to
hell, if you like, but don`t tell me to despise my
world. Let any vagabond wait for a new world
when he fails in the existing world, but not for
Diola. For me Jesus and Mormordino are the
same. If Jesus tells me that, he would give me the
kingdom of heaven, Mormordino would tell me
he would give me Sicily that is all the same to
me. Both are trying to persuade man with
virtue.
How could I pray saying “let your
kingdom come?” what benefit did I get
from this kingdom in the first place. Let
Jesus and this kingdom stay where they
are. How could I continue calling Jesus
my lord with the same tongue I used to
say “My Lord” to Mormordino? If he
created me to live my entire life to call
him “My Lord” he is mistaken. I will
prepare my kingdom of heaven. “Listen
everyone, kingdom of Diola is near, so
you can throw yourselves to the deepest
valley. The world had stood against me
for a long time, but now the time is
approaching for the world to lie under my
feet. Kingdom of Diola is approaching!”
while Abba Diola talk to himself he
totally forgot about the food.
The administrator monk woke Abba
Diola saying, “Please eat, Abba.”
“Oh yes, I am eating, but since I was sick
last time I can`t eat much at once, I will
eat after a while. For now this is enough.”
Abba Mirage finished all his food,
thanked God with prayer, and returned
the dish courteously.
The administrator monk started the last
speech that the monastery`s tradition
required. “…as I mentioned earlier,
monastic life is an art that came from the
Bible. Our pioneer monk is Jesus Christ.
Monks are angels of the earth. They
don`t live for the sake of their flesh. A
monk means one who is dead to earth , so a
monk wouldn`t insult back if he is
insulted or strike back if struck, think no
evil or revenge in his heart -that is what a
monk is! He who is destitute while in
worldly life is not a monk - he is a lazy
man. But a monk gets hungry while he
has something to eat. He never wishes to
see his folks. Never leaves his place of
service. Never tries to judge others. The
sword of a monk is his prayer. He never
picks up a real sword. Never gets
aggressive because The Holy Spirit
doesn`t dwell on an aggressive person.
An aggressor is a disciple of the Devil.”
He raised his eyes to the two monks,
watched them for a moment and
continued.
“A man is from both the flesh and the
spirit. A man is a battle field for the war
between the soul and the body. So you
have to always remember this. If you see
one of your spiritual brothers fall to the
desires of his flesh you shall not be
tempted to follow him. It is enough if
you know that men are from both the
flesh and the spirit. Someone who
without question believes whatever he
was told is heartless. If your heart desires
anything unpleasing in the monastery,
what you have to do is consult guardian
of the monastery instead of inviting
frustrating thoughts to your mind.
“Once you become part of the monastery
you shall share both the sadness and
merry lives of your brother monks, pray
together, and more important of all you
have to love each other. If you are not
assigned for a duty you shall not go to
cities. It is strictly forbidden. You shall
not return to the world that you despised
and left once and for all.”
Abba Diola joked to himself “I`m not
surprised to hear a bunch of monks that
were despised by the world sing the song
`we despised the world!` But Diola will
not sing with them.”
The administrator monk took some
breath, watched the two monks again and
added “…the guardian of the monastery
- Abba Jenberu - will tell you whatever
more that you have to hear tomorrow
morning.” he left after he said good bye
with a bow.
CHAPTER 12
Abba Mirage woke as the sound of the
monastery bell echoed. He scrubbed his
eyes and looked around the guest room.
There was nobody in sight. The brick bed
Abba Diola slept was empty. The
morning sun`s rays were shining their
way into the room through the cracks on
the walls.
He got out of bed and went down the
road to the shore. He was carrying on his
back the bag he never left behind
whenever he moved. He found Abba
Diola washing himself sitting on a
granite rock. Abba Mirage joined him
sitting on a nearby similar rock and begun
washing his face, scooping from the
waves of Tana bouncing back from the
bigger rocks.
Abba Diola suddenly went running into
the forest to answer his cell phone. As
soon as he was back from his secret
conversation, a modern boat sped up to
the shore carrying seven people. The
Italian Mafia Don Mormordino Busky
was sitting on the boat along with four of
his bodyguards and translators.
When the boat neared the shore, the four
guards jumped out to immediately secure
the surrounding. Don Mormordino left
the gate to the monastery to his left and
went up the hill towards the church and
museum following the narrow winding
path. He was not at all attending to what
his guide was explaining to him.
Diola and Mirage also followed the other
tourists up the hill. Halfway up the hill
they arrived at a place called `Yetsadkan
marefia``Resting place for saints`, where
their guide monk invited them to rest.
Nobody went to the church before taking
a rest on the sacred place. Don
Mormordino was glad about it, for the
exhaustive hill was making him more than
a little tired. His heart was flattering
wildly in his chest. Sweat poured out all
over his body, making him wet and dirty.
The place is said to be the point where
the legendry rock rested. As legend had it,
the monk who first established the
monastery St. Pop Hirute Amlak – came to
the island riding the rock on the lake. The
young Habesha guide turned to Don
Mormordino and started telling him
about the legend.
“This flat stone you`re looking at, is a
stone raft on which the founder of this
monastery Pop Hirutae Amlak came
paddling to the island.” He said.
Mormordino didn`t give him any
attention. He didn`t care. He even took
back what he was about to say. This is not
sicilly! he told himself instead. If he`d
been in Sicily, he would`ve been able to
say anything he liked, what`s more, he
could even assume the power to dethrone
any government official. For Don
Mormordino, the power to do his heart`s
desire lied inside the mystery of money.
He believed all authority belonged to
money. And all power dwelled in money.
He didn`t care if Pop Hirutae amlak was
capable of floating a rock on water
through enlightenment. Don
Mormordino has been riding Sicily and
its people all his life, on the
Mediterranean. “You can ride a rock
through enlightenment, but you can ride
a nation through money.” Mormordino
wondered. For him the greatest authority
on earth wasn`t enlightenment but
money. It never gave him any sense. What
made sense for him was the meaning
hidden behind the secret so mysterious
that it was the only thing beyond the
achieving power of his father Busky. He
continued the family quest hoping every
minute of his life to lay his hands on it.
He`d scanned the island with his
binoculars, when they were closing in
towards the Northern part of the shore
in the boat. He`d seen the lighthouse on
the south Eastern part of the island, built
by the Italians.
The Italian investor tycoon Busky
Mormordino had signed a deal with high
government official to invest on an island
between the islands of Daga and Deke.
There was no one who`d given the news
any attention, though it was on air both
on radio and TV news sessions. Also,
there was nobody who knew exactly why
the investor set eyes upon this very small
island, nature had given for Tana`s
pelicans so that they can lie down under
the sun - nobody but he and only one
high government official. The secrecy of
the issue hadn`t gotten far off, at most
from Abba Diola. Also, Diola`s sudden
appearance in Daga Estefan was a secret
kept between Don Mormordino and him.
Nothing specific was made clear about
the Italian`s business on the media, except
that he made a deal to invest on the small
island. Even Mormordino`s men who had
arrived on the disserted island didn`t
have a hint about what they were doing
there. The boat, which was supposed to
provide a transportation service mainly
for food - was assembled on the island,
taking up most of its scarce ground. The
men camped in spacious green tents,
waiting alertly for an order from the don.
They were fully and exceptionally armed.
That was when they set out to visit Daga
Estefan after everything was in place.
Now they were on their visit according to
plan Mormordino was determined to put
every effort on uncovering the secret
until he would find a hint of it on this
island. He will not return back before he
rolled every rock on the island, whatever
the cost may be. He would try everything
possible, or even impossible. He hoped
the money he donated to the monastery
might ease up matters to a certain extent.
Mormordino toured the church found
next to Tsadkan the Saints`resting ground
where he looked at the ancient paintings
and continued towards the storeroom of
the monastery.
The storeroom was packed with very old
Berana scriptures and books. Some of the
books such as the Qelemnitos, Georgis Welde
Amid, Retua Haimanot, Gedle Semaitat, the
decorated Wengel Zewerk (The Gloden
Gosple), the talismanic Book of Genesis and
Gebre Himam were found only in this
monastery. There is a speculation about
the existence of other books of history,
philosophy, medicine and secret divine
wisdoms written in Ge`ez. These might
include: - TheBook of Fisalogos, TheBook of
Beleream, The Book of Abushaker(Book of
Astrology),The Book of Wisdom, The Book
Of Rafael Z`adonay and more. These ones
were never accessed by visitors, they were
kept hidden - they said. Also artifacts of
precious value such as the ones presented
from king David, an old splinter of wood
which was supposed to be part of the
Cross Jesus Christ was crucified on and
was now made into a hand cross
ornamented with ivory, a brass cross
which could be opened and closed, king
David`s himself gold crown and his
drum made of brass. Also other crosses
of gold - acquired as a gift from King
Zer`a Yakob. At another coroner sat the
legendary diamond studded sword of the
same king, on which the words - Wenemo
Keme Yanzer - were written. Zer`a Yakob
took the sword wherever he went all his
life. On another corner stood his three-
legged throne, his gold studded cloak and
his gold plated bed-a gift from his
contemporary king Fasile – Des. In
addition, the preserved bodies of the four
great contemporary kings - King Fasil, King
Dawit, King Zer`a Yakob and King Susinios –
inside glass casings dressed honorably.
These mummified bodies were only an
addition to the ten more bodies of other
kings and the nine bodies of pops found
in a different part of the same monastery.
While the curator of the storeroom
described what he knew about the
contents of the monastery to the visitors
around him, one of the translators was
telling Mormordino what the man was
talking about. The native translator didn`t
seem to give a damn about the exactness
of the curator`s words.
Even if he tried, his inadequate Italian
won`t let him. But out of all these
priceless antique there was not a single
item that caught the Mormordino`s
attention.
Abba Diola`s feelings were contrary to
the Don`s. When he looked at the bodies
in the glass casings he recalled what his
father told him about a secret. As a child
the only topic he was interested in among
Aleka Ayalew`s tales was the story of the
bodies on Daga Estefan Island. He went
closer to the glass to look at the
mummies especially King Atse Zera
Yakob`s. He was starting to plunge into a
far away memory, when he suddenly
realized that the tour was over. He went
out of the room followed by the other
visitors and closed the door behind him.
Abba Mirage`s attention was completely
taken away by Atse Zera yakob`s sword
with the mysterious words inscribed on
its blade. He was very sure that he was at
the right place.
The tour was over. The store keeper
closed the door and went to his private
room.
“Nigga!” said Mormordino addressing
Abba Diola whispering close to his ears
but allowing his translator to listen to
what he was saying. “If you executed this
mission perfectly well, no one will
challenge you to become my right hand.”
They were going down the hill.
“Wasn`t I your right hand up until now?”
asked Abba Diola.
“Up until now, you were my servant. My
slave… You idiot! Just shut up and listen
to me. The time has come for you to be a
master. As beauty veils poverty, slavery is
veiled with money. Prosperity veils
poverty, prosperity will hide your
blackness. When that happened, you shall
become one of the world`s most
powerful men. Otherwise, I will remain
with my right to pull you by the ear and
tell you to do anything I wish. What good
are you if you don`t have any money? To
buy and to plunder anyone and anything
that you dominate is a natural law. It`s
not a satanic law. Winners are always
there. These days, even the type of water
people drink is according to their class.
Imagine, water was supposed to be God`s
free gift. And all because of this law.
When the rich drinks bottled water, the
poor has no choice but to bend down and
sip the dirty pool water with its germs,
like an animal. Can`t you see the
difference even with this simple example?
Never stop to think about money. If you
have money, then you will lead. That`s it,
comprende?”
“Comprendo, master Mormordino.”
“No you`re lying, you can`t understand.
You can never understand. You`re an ass
slept upon your own consciousness
deliberately.”
“No I`m not, master! You`ve no right to
insult me while you`re a stranger on my
own land. This is not Sicily.Can`t you see
my hat and cloths? I`ve much more
resemblance with a wingless angle than an
ass!”
Don Mormordino gave out a laughter
that echoed across the island.
“I ask your forgiveness, your holiness!” he
said, mockingly. “Rather be careful of
your people, they may appoint you for a
governor.”
Now it was Abba Diola`s turn to laugh.
He laughed heartily as if he had never
laughed before. As he laughed, his
narrow red eyes went even narrower and
his red gums showed from tip to tip.
Mormordino slapped Abba Diola`s
behind as an indecent act of intimacy.
CHAPTER 13

It was the leading monk that gave the

permission for Abba Diola and Abba
Mirage to permanently reside in the
monastery. No one understood why the
head priest Abba Jenberu never got out
of his prayer den to welcome the new
monks as he usually did by inciting the
Holy Mary.
To keep the custom, the remaining monks
prepared a welcoming ceremony of
prayer to the two new monks. This too
was coordinated by the efforts of the
leading monk. They were given praying
dens as done for every other monk. The
dens were huts of straw found scattered
deep among the forest. Though there
were more than 300 monks in this
monastery, the place seemed like deserted.
The only times the monks came together
were when there was a job they must do
in groups or pray together. During the
rest of the time, nobody went to each
other dens unless requested to do so. And
if someone goes on a visit to a monk`s
den for matters of emergency, he
would`ve to clap his hands before he
came close to the door. The visitor can`t
enter the den if the monk inside gave him
permission to enter by coming out to
greet him. It wasn`t an ill conduct to
remain inside unresponsive. In that case,
the visitor must return back, for the
monk could be on prayer. It was indeed a
very indecent act to interrupt a monk in
the middle of his prayers. The monastic
law dictates the ultimate respect for
individual privacy, while keeping the unity
and cooperation among monks at a safe
level. The advantage of the den was to
give every monk a private sanctuary for
meditating and reading.
Any sinful acts done while alone, shall be
judged by God and God alone.
If Abba Mirage and Abba Diola joined
the monastery following the usual,
regulations, they should`ve at first
registered by the head monk. Then the
monks should make them familiar with
everything at the monastery for seven
days and they should start their service
according to the rules of the monastery.
They also should prove their religious
loyalty with a pledge they made to the
monastic society just before they become
tentative monks. But the two knew before
hand all about these rules. So they were
pretending to be as good as any divinity
thirsty monks familiar and ready to abide
by the monastic rules.
Usually anyone who arrived in the island
choosing a life of seclusion rather than
worldly mediocrity wasn`t able to receive
full monastic rights as soon as he came
and said so. He was required to take
various training courses with the regular
monks for at least three years. That time
is called a tentative period of a cadet
monk.
To test the determination and persistence
of the candidate monk, the top monks
must make him go through a lot of
breath taking examinations.
According to the 1972 administration
policy of the monastery, any monk shall
not carry or posses a private sum of
money. Also, if the monk had any amount
of property or each before he came to the
monastery, he shall give up two third of
the amount to his family and one third to
the monastery.
The only thing that was worrying Abba
Diola was the fact that he didn`t have any
knowledge about the rules that, if
digressed, should result in banishment.
Later he asked a monk casually walking
past his hut. The monk explained to him
about article 15 of the syndical rules.
Article 15 made every situation that may
result in complete dismissal from the
monastery. It case a monk went
wandering into town against the seclusion
rules of the monastery and spent any
period of time in the villages without the
permission of the Abbot; the monk shall
receive advice from two fellow monks as
an initial warning. In case the misconduct
happened for a second time, he shall
receive another advice by appearing in
front of the Abbot. Then he shall get a
more severe reprimand followed by a
disciplinary measure from the monastic
society. In case, at last he went off to the
worldly villages again, he shall be
considered unworthy of the monastic life
and shall be banished. This was done
following the words of Saint Mathew of
the Gospel.

There was one more thing that the monk

failed to mention to Abba Diola – about
the kind of the disciplinary measure that
the transgressor shall go through. Abba
Diola simply guessed it to be a prayer.
But there was something else also - an
empty hut containing only a log with two
holes. The hut was situated at good
distance from the monastery`s main
quarters.
Nobody opened the lonely dreadful hut,
except when there was an unfortunate
monk destined to taste the bitterness of
the pain it contained. That monk could be
any one of the monks who refused to
abide by the rules of the monastery. The
holes on the huge log were made large
enough to put a man`s feet through them.
The transgressor monk would be locked
by the feet with a chain attached to the
log. He will not only be unable to move
but he will not be able to lie down and
sleep. The weight of the log won`t allow
him. He will start going through the days
and the nights inside the hut, alone and
very uncomfortable. At last after a couple
of days he would begin shouting for help
and talk gibberish. But no one is allowed
to open the door and let him free before
he completed his punishment. He shall
stay there forsaken, except for the
dangerous forest spiders that might come
to visit him. Perhaps the monk didn`t
want to shock Abba Diola with this
dreadful punishment that he never told
him about it.
But he did tell him about other rules. He
told him that, leaders like king Tewodros
were the results of these monasteries.
“These ancient monasteries have a way of
living very similar with the communal life
of a campus. They are also the sources of
ancient Ethiopian literature, architecture,
medicine and other knowledge`s.” The
monk told Abba Diola.
When the monastery`s bell rung, the
monks always went out of their dens
taking their Mequnen with them and
concluded their prayers if they were in
the middle of one. They could dine at the
mass dining hall - café - or at their
respective dens. In the monastery of
Waldeba, the usual meal was quarf - a type
of meal prepared out of a dry banana
flour. In Debre Beizen, the usual Ethiopian
meal -Enjera with wat - the equivalent of
pita bread with a sauce of lentils or beans
and peas - was served. And in Daga
Estefan the usual meal was Dabe - poor in
diet, so as to favor fasting. Though the
meals in every monastery may differ, all
the monks in aell the monasteries dined
only once during the day. At dining times
– Mequnen times – verses from the books
such as Zena Abew and The Book of Heaven
were read before anyone started eating.
They would dine only after a prayer led by
the Abbot. The daily prayer - Pop Zebe
Semayat was cited at the end of the meal.
All the monks shall get equal amounts of
Mequnen. Justice was served with the
meals.
According to the Ethiopian Syndical
proclamation article number 11, every
monk shall receive one set of working
clothes and another set for holyday wear,
every year. It was not allowed to possess
more than two sets of clothing at a time.
They are entitled to get a blanket and a
mat every two years. All monks wear
similar outfits at any given day. A
yellowish free dress and an untailored
enormous garment of the same color
Weyiba and a monk`s hat. The hat was
worn after the candidate monk-to-be
received the title of a full monk. Monks
on their trial period wore a “Sun hat” a
black hat or no hat according to the time
of their trial period.
During the first days and weeks of his
stay, Abba Diola was able to realize that
he had to go through a lot of
complications in order to achieve what he
wanted. He had to attend prayer services
every day. In the honor of prophet king
David, who said “I rise at midnight to praise
you, Oh Lord.” All monks woke up to pray
every day at midnight. This ordeal wasn`t
favored by Abba Diola, who hated to
interrupt his sweet dreams at that hour.
But any way he went half asleep to the
chapel.
The midnight prayers started with the
“hours” prayer of Melk`a Melak and the
Miracle of Mary. After the “Hours”
prayers, two chosen monks had to
perform the next ordeal – prayer of
incent. Then the prayer of Haimanot, the
psalms and Sinksar are recited. At last,
near dawn the final prayer had to be
conducted by the guidance of an elder
monk. It is a prayer of blessings that
pleads for the love and unity as well as
protection of the monastic society. It
even included a verse asking the Lord to
protect Christianity, the bring peace and
unity for the whole country and to ever
increase the size of the monastery and its
society.
At 6 0`clock in the morning, the monks
were set free to return to their dens and
recite their own prayers. Abba Diola
never understood a single thing out of all
this.
Most of the prayers and blessings were
done with the ancient Ge`ez dialect. That
made everything worse for him. He had
to endure many hours of service in
standing position, his tired legs shaking.
Amazingly, there were farmer monks just
like him, with no education at all to
understand what was being said and done.
The laws of the monastery didn`t punish
illiteracy. And knowledge was not
considered as a sign of divinity or
enlightenment. A learned monk and a
completely unaware one got the same
level of respect. In these monasteries,
magnanimity, subordination, pure-
heartedness, good will, commitment and
persistence were the prime measures of
divinity.
Every day at nine o`clock in the morning
all monks went to work according to their
specific skills. At 12 o`clock at noon, the
bell on the top of the hill rang, heralding
the two hour long private prayer. All
monks went to the church for their two-
hour prayer. At two in the afternoon, the
second part of the prayers would
continue which were conducted in mass.
This period was a time for the monks to
confess their sins they`ve made since
dawn that day-if there are any. The
overall prayer services are over at three in
the afternoon, that`s when the bell rang
for the third time. It`s time to dine. After
everyone has eaten, the monks were
allowed to spend the rest of their time
doing whatever they wish inside their
huts, until dusk falls. Some of them
would stay reading; some would go down
to the river to take a bath. The bell echoes
again summoning all to the evening man
prayers. When the prayers were over,
verses from various parts of the bible
were read.
At last the last prayer - Sibhat Le`
Egziabher - was cited and the Abbot went
through an assessment of the activities of
the day, praising good deeds and
suggesting ways to improve what was
unwell. This concluded the day wishing
fare well all monks to their dens, until the
midnight when the bell would ring again
to restart the routine all over again.
To keep this ordered life style intact for
many years, elder monks believed to have
trustworthy leadership and administrative
abilities were chosen. The administrative
system was structured with the six series
of managing bodies, the Abbot, the
“Megabi”, the “Gebez”, the storekeeper
and the “Likae Ardeitu”. The Abbot is at
the top of the system. He is appointed
and chosen by the criterion of his good
will and ability to manage and administer.
Authority isn`t granted just because a
monk wanted to have it. There are no
campaigns. He shall be informed about
his new responsibilities only after he was
voted for by the majority. The Abbot
should`ve a high level of spiritual
knowledge, which had to be a recognized
one. Any fellow monk shall abide with
the Abbot`s advise, command and
regulations. The Abbot can only appoint
other monks for a position in the system.
He can`t at his own authority choose his
subordinates, except for suggesting a
monk for election. Before an Abbot was
elected, the date for election was decided.
Then all monks shall pray together in the
church for guidance.
In line with the 1972 administrative
policy ratified by the synagogue, the vote
shall take place following modern rules
of voting. Just after the election results
were made public, the elected Abbot must
go to the chapel to pray and accept the
blessings of monks. At last, the new
Abbot will take his honorable seat and all
the monks pass in front of him bowing
with respect. Once elected in the local
monastery the result will be sent to the
patriarch and ratified.
That`s how the Abbot assumes full
responsibility. The next authority in the
line of monastic responsibility lies upon
the Megabi. He was responsible for
collecting and monitoring the
monastery`s incomes.
He communicates with monks about
crucial Matters of the monastery that
need special attention and forwards the
issue to the Abbot for discussion.
He prepares and submits the monastery`s
monthly report of income to the Abbot.
He has an assistant deputy Megabi to help
him facilitate his job the Gual Megabi.
Next in the line - the Gebez is elected. His
duty is to manage and organize the
monks who are daily assigned on spiritual
services. He makes sure that all the
manuscripts and ancient artifacts are well
protected. He is the head of the
storekeeper who shall be chosen with an
extra care to see if he really gave up the
tempting world. The secretary works
along with them recording every item as
well as the income and expenses of the
whole monastery. He also supervises to
see if every transaction and marketing is
done in black and white-with the seal of
the monastery and the Abbot`s signature.
Every monk below in rank to the Megabi
is given the common name - Ardeit, if he
is just a member, and Leqe` Ardeit if he is
serving. The Leqe` Ardeit is head of
practical tasks. He coordinates the monks
to execute their daily duties, such as
cleaning the monastery and its territories,
planting trees and vegetables as well as
regularly nurturing them and prepare the
food for the monastic commune. On the
same level of rank as the Leqe` Ardeit but
with a different mission, is the Leqe-Abew.
He is responsible for taking care of
elderly and in any way unwell monks. He
does their laundry or made sure that it is
done by other monks under his
supervision. He made regular visits to the
huts of monks who lived in complete
seclusion, unwilling to talk with anyone
except going on with their lives by
reading and praying only. Their doors
were always shut. The Leqe-Abew should
be highly attentive and very
understanding for he must know the
needs of monks without them
communicating with him.
Beyond and above this system of
authorities, there were other monks with
a sense of extraordinary conservative
natures to keep the secrets of the country.
These were part of the complicated ever-
unwinding net of the monastic system,
following every move with watchful eyes.
It didn`t take long for Abba Diola to
recognize and be aware of this chained
structure. Everywhere there were monks
watching him. When he first came to the
island he thought, these monks moving
up and down the woods silently were
fools. Since they seemed not to give him
much attention, he`d imagined that it
would take him little time to accomplish
what he came for. A secret he had to
uncover that would bring him an
immense amount of prestige. However,
days had gone by without getting any
hint. His mobile phone with a high
capacity battery was going low in power.
He wanted to make a call to Don
Mormordino before his phone`s battery
runs out completely.
He tried to make a call from the low
plateaus of the island but the network
was unavailable there. He knew exactly
the place where he could make a call. So
he went up the hill quickly. He was
sweating when he reached the top. He
then climbed up the huge acacia tree.
He made sure that the leaves covered him
out of sight, from anyone`s view. He
made the call and begun conversing with
a low voice.
“I couldn`t.” Abba Diola said. “I`m
about to go back.”
“Fine, comeback.” answered Don
Mormordino from the other end of the
line. “But there is something that you`ve
to know.” His voice was full of despise
and contempt.
“What?” Diola asked from the island.
“That, you shall always be my slave. That,
by not achieving your mission, you`re
allowing me to rule over you in cruelty.”
“Yes I am allowing you. Here also I`m a
slave for the divine Trinity. I chose you
whom I intimately knew, rather than to
submit to the Trinity that I don`t know.
You can do what you like with me.”
“Damn you!”
Pardon me master Mormordino.” But he
heard the insult.
“You`re a coward!”
“I`m not getting what you are saying.” He
lied again.
“You`re the Devil himself!”
“It was better if I`m the Devil. I could`ve
found what they hid. You know what; I
would love to be the devil.
“Let`s use force!” Mormordino changed
the course of their conversation.
“We can`t.”
“Why can`t we?”
“Everybody here loves death. Death is
what every monk wants so badly. They say
a monk is someone who`s already died.
These people are already dead. We can`t
kill dead men. To your surprise, many of
them pledge to God so that they could
die a martyr`s death. Death for them is
only a bridge to the other world. They
have the deepest longing for the next
spiritual world. Death is less powerful
than a shadow in this monastery. It is not
at all feared. It is seen as something
beautiful. They are glad for the sweetness
of death`s rest.” He explained, “They will
not let us touch it. Never! And if I want
to steal it, I don`t know where to find it.
Also they`re not easily fooled.”
“Listen nigga! Money shall solve what
love couldn`t. And where money failed,
force will do the job. If love and money
failed, we`ll not hesitate to use force. It is
the last alternative.”
“You are wrong, master Mormordino. We
don`t have the power to use force.”
“Tell me why we can`t! Don`t you realize
I`m Mormordino! Did you forget I ruled
over the island of heroes like Salvatore
Juliano and Amory Adriano? You are
underestimating me, you nigger! I can
submerge this backward island
underwater with one push of my hand.
You know what I can do! I am tough. But
still, you`ve no idea who I am.”
“Have you realized that the island has got
divine protection?”
“Divine?” Mormordino laughed
incredulously. “You see nigga…the divine
will not involve itself in such wars.
According to nature`s laws of war,
whoever wins shall get the reward. We
shall win and get the reward. If the divine
is really just it won`t involve itself into
any kind of struggle. The divine is not
involved when the lion kills and feasts
upon the buffalo. The greatest law in this
world is, the fittest shall survive.
You are either the predator or the prey.
All are predators. For whom shall the
Divine stand? Even people slaughtered
animals to eat. Do you think the divine
who is an onlooker when the Habesha
people ate raw meat, would stand against
me?
I don`t eat raw meat.”
“But you ate it fried, anyway. Fried or raw
you ate meat. Don`t remind me the time
we ate fried meat sipping our wine. Any
way the monastery is not only guarded by
the divine. I`ve found out that there are
monks who used to be former army
generals and soldiers. In addition, there
are also many anthropologists,
philosophers, engineers and doctors. It
amazed me to find intellectuals a lot more
brilliant than the ones working in the
country I don`t know what they are doing
here in Daga.
Don`t think they are sissies! Confronting
these people means giving them a chance
to come out victorious once again.
Adwa!”
Mormordino laughed again. “Adwa? The
victory of Adwa? We weren`t defeated at
the battle of Adwa, we retreated. After
forty years of reorganization, we came
back and defeated Ethiopia. The reason
you yanked Eritrea as an independent
state was king Minelik`s failure to pursue
the Italian army beyond the shores of the
red sea, after his victory. If there was an
unfinished war, don`t you think this
generation which is supposedly better-
should finish it? It hasn`t got the strength
to do so! The yanking which was done by
bandits` recruited and organized
By low lives who`ve stayed back in
Eritrea to administer the factories and
companies that Italy established there.
This is one of the proofs of our victory.
You see, you can never defeat a Habesha
by waging war, but through his belly.
Because he is always hungry. There is no
defeat more than that. Is there? Don`t
make me say more…someone held by the
nose can breathe through his mouth, at
least for some time. The Red Sea was
Ethiopia`s nose. Now this nose is cut off.
That`s why you`re now mumbling about
Adwa. If you can understand me, I`m
telling you that, you can`t say you
defeated the Italians at Adwa because the
land you fought for is now gone. It is not
yours anymore. Did you say Adwa? You
kidding me nigga? Anyway you`re not
part of the victory of Adwa. You`re just
being a parrot! You dumb! That is not a
headache for me and you. Let`s leave the
gamble between leaders of Eritrea and
Ethiopia to themselves and let you and I
play our own gambling. The world
doesn`t have a place for those who can`t
win its gamble. Are there any armed men
in the monastery?”
“I guess so…,” answered Diola in an
unsure tone.
“You guess so?” Mormordino was
furious.
“I mean I am sure. That is unthinkable
master Mormordino. I`m crucifying
myself with hunger for nothing. I can`t
stand this ugly food they call Dabe, which
you can`t even swallow down. Let`s not
even get into the pain of going to the
toilet. Hell! It is easier to give birth to
twins. Not very different than going into
labor. Are you listening to me? I`m being
fed meals of sand and stone, not real
food. I want something to eat. I miss
food, food, food…”
“Come here!” answered Mormordino in
anger.
“Come here and you will forever be
eating my left over! You filthy dog! Do
you know how many brave men I`vegot?
I chose you only because you can blend in
with them. I was wrong to expect
anything from a nigger! What`s more,
from a Habesha! What vision does a
Habesha have, except to bite each other
like dogs? Are you different from other
Habeshas who bite each other off from
this country they held on to as if it is a
bone? Like a dog that showed its fierce
teeth as its bone is touched, you also
bragged around about the greatness of
your country while you cling to it for
dear life, always hungry. They lived
clinging to it like a dog clings to his bone.
But they haven`t done anything for this
country on which they bragged to have
stayed for three thousand years. The
Italians had made more during their five-
year stay. You see they only care about
filling their bellies. The life of a Habesha
is his belly. His grave is also his belly.
Those who live to fill their belly die
because of it. Come and live eating
crumbles off my plate! You dumb ass!
Ha…ha…ha…” the line went dead
before Mormordino was done insulting
him. The battery was dead.
CHAPTER 14

CALIFORNIA

SEPTEMBER 2005

For the first time since his entrance to the

night club, Doctor Anania looked away
from the tempting sexy bodies of the
striper girls dancing on their specially
made stages. The Gordon Gin he`s been
drinking all night, added with the magical
bodies of these women was more than
enough to create strong unholy desires in
his loins. He set his eyes on Zipporah,
who was sitting beside him on a corner
of the night club-lost in thought.
“What?” she demanded in response to his
stare. He realized the alcohol she too has
been engorging had no effect at all on
her.
The dance floor was in complete chaos,
caused by the mangled corporate effects
of the high tempo music from powerful
speakers, the random flash of lights and
the unsynchronized movements of
dancers. He took Zipporah`s hand and
led her to the dance floor. She didn`t
object. Sometimes she lets him have the
freedom.
The dancing crowd of people left little
room for the new couple, allowing
Anania to hold her close to his chest. To
no body`s surprise, his heart started to
accelerate its tempo as her breasts
touched him. The music kept on roaring.
People of every kind-black, white, men,
women-were trying to move according to
the beat of their music. The naked
strippers put their legs affectionately
around the slim steel bars, erected on
their own dancing floors and slid up and
down along them. It was a perfect place
for openly satisfying one`s hidden desires.
He knew his choice was right.
They were both getting into the mood
when suddenly he went away to their
table in the corner leaving Zipporah in
the middle of the crowed. He produced a
small bottle out of his pocket containing
reddish brown flour - the same color as
the wine Zipporah was having. He poured
it in the half-full glass of wine. It blended
perfectly. He smiled when he thought
about how close he is now to spend the
whole night with his body inside hers.
He went back to the dance floor and
spent a few minutes dancing with her.
Then he led her by the hand again to their
table.
“Drink up my darling.” He told her filling
his glass to the rim. He was disappointed
because her choice - a French wine-has no
effect upon her yet. Now he was sure that
the drug would make her faint in his
arms. Then he would take her to the
room he rented earlier. He was
determined to taste the sweetness of her
femininity that he`d so lustfully sought
for many years.
“I can`t have anymore wine.” Zipporah
said, raising her hands in surrender.
“Why don`t you have some more,
darling…” his tongue was tied. His face
was flushed. “…just finish up what you
ordered. It`s good to our luck. My
darling, did you forget tomorrow is the
day we`re abducting the scientist and fly
him to Tel-Aviv? We need all the luck in
the world.” He raised his glass and held it
close to her face. “To our success, cheers.”
She raised her glass, clicked it with his
and took it to her lips. Her cautious, witty
and always-at-watch nature came to play
when she spotted a brownish speck of
dust on the table. The same type of flour
could be seen glued on the inside of her
glass wall. Her job has taught her to trust
her instincts.
He noticed her sudden change into the
fight or flight mode. “Shit!” He said to
himself “you monster!” his nose begun
sweating.
“We`ve to get out of here.” She told him,
alert as a rabbit. “We`re in danger.”
“What danger?”
“My drink is poisoned!”
“What?”
“I said we have to get out of here.”
She hastily left the nightclub without
waiting for his reply. She was furious
when she got to her car. She opened the
door to the driver`s seat. Anania took the
back seat. She drove to the apartment she
hired temporarily and went in followed
by him. As soon as they were inside, she
slammed the door behind her, took out
her gun from her side and shoved it
forcefully under his neck.
“Do you want me to send a bullet
through this ugly neck of yours?”
“What`s wrong my darling…ha…” he
said straining to look down to her against
the pressure of the barrel on his neck.
“Are you going to deny what you did?”
“What …what`ve I done?” he looked
confused.
She laughed with a tone of irony. “Why
was it important for you to poison my
drink?”
“I didn`t poison your drink, Zipporah.”
“Do you think you`re better than me?
Idiot! If you would understand it, there is
no idiocy greater than being indifferent to
your idiocy. Dumb head! I followed every
movement you were making. Don`t try to
deny me. Just tell me what your mission
was.
I don`t want to go any more steps with
my enemy”.
“I told you, I haven`t poisoned it. Sure I
…” he moved his big head to a more
comfortable position.
“In truth …I did mix the flour in your
drink. I did it not because I`m on a
mission but so that I could break off
your reluctance for some minutes. Your
love sent me on the mission. I never
meant to hurt you. It wasn`t fatal! It
was…it was a sleeping pill, to make you
doze off for a time.” He said pleading,
completely helpless.
He felt the power of the alcohol draining
the strength out of him. He never once
objected when she looked him with a
steel pole that stood in the corner of the
living room. She left him alone chained.
He heard her car`s engine roar.
Minutes later she came back with an ugly
Caucasian woman. She gives him the
creeps just when he looked at her.
“Is he the fool you told me about, Miss
Zipporah?” she asked her, coming close
to his face and gave him an ominous
smile. He thought she had a pair of
canines longer than the rest of her teeth.
He wondered if she was a vampire. Her
stinky breath created butterflies in his
stomach.
“I`m also a lusty fool just like you,
darling. We`ll bang the night away.” She
told him.
She brought a syringe with a needle full
of some kind of liquid. Then ignoring all
his protests, she stuck the needle in his
arm, emptying its contents in his
bloodstream. As his world changed in
front of him, he knew he was drugged.
But he didn`t know what kind until blood
begun rushing to his penis, a few
moments later. He begged Zipporah with
his eyes. She stood merciless, holding her
hips with both hands.
“You wanted sex, didn`t you?” She said.
“You got it.”
“Yea…” the vamp agreed. “I want to find
out what you`re made of.”
She started to take off his pants. She took
his penis in her hands massaging it.
“Tell your cute little thing not to go back
in again.”
Zipporah unlocked one of his two hands.
“Thank you, Miss Zipporah. I want him
to do the same for me too.” The vamp
said. “Thank you, darling for your
cooperation in erecting your cute little
thing. It will be enough to fill me, if you
made it a bit harder.”
She took off her clothes to reveal a
skinny body that was far from shapely.
Then she came nearer to him with her
back to him. Her bottoms touched his.
He tried to turn away but she pinned him
tightly with the pole. His desire made him
give up easily as she led his hard body
inside her. She began moving to and fro,
at last getting a response from him,
though reluctantly. A moment later partly
stimulated by the drug he was out of
control with lust. He pounded on her
sparing her all the effort, until finally he
came. Zipporah stood with her back to
them.
“Oh no.” said the vamp-woman. “That
was quick!”
The whole thing begun all over again. He
felt ashamed and a surge of hatred swept
all over him.
“I know why you came so quickly the first
time. Now you`ve to keep it up till I
come. Don`t make me angry!”
“I don`t want it anymore. Damn you!”
Anania said flustered. “No more!”
“But I want some more!” she told him
with her usual dry smile. Even that was
gone as fast as it appeared. “Bull shit!”
she said in an angry and ugly South
American accent. He did it again. She
brought the syringe again. She came
closer again sliding her tongue around
her lips. He looked for her long canine,
now they were so many of them. He was
fainting. He looked down at his penis. So
many of them! He lost count. He
couldn`t remember what he did after that.
In the morning after the ugly vampire
looking woman left, Anania regained his
consciousness just in time to see
Zipporah leaving. He was still chained to
the bar. He looked at her with eyes full of
revenge.
“You wanted it, you got it!” she said
while carrying her bag. “We won`t have
any more chances of working together.
Leave our mission about the scientist to
me. I swear I`ll do it all by myself. You`ve
no idea what I`m capable of.”
“No…Zipporah …no…”
“Ciao!” She went out.
“Zipporah …Zipporah …sip…” he
called her name again and again until he
heard her car`s engine roared.
He remained in chains - a prisoner of
love - till noon. By mid-day, he flied back
to Tel-Aviv with two Israelite
commandoes guarding him. After a direct
encounter with the conservative Moss ad
head of discipline he was at last free to
go, but with a very strict warning. If he
weren`t a crucial person in the surgical
section of the medical section of the
secret service he was bound to get fired.
Whenever he remembered that incident,
he was filled with an unbearable sense of
defeat. Since then his love for Zipporah
changed into a hatred of unimaginable
bitterness.
It was in that state of mind, he started his
routine old job inside the underground
medical facility located below Monad
headquarters. He began contemplating a
way to get his revenge on Zipporah.
Revenge boiled inside him eating through
his bones.
CHAPTER 15

DAGA ESTEFAN`S MONASTERY

ETHIOPIA

Abba Diola made a mistake once at a

younger age, that was now preventing
him from easily putting his hands on the
greatest secret found right here in this
monastery. He was doing everything he
could to succeed in his mission since he
first made himself a monk. It was
something he did to his father, Aleka
Ayalew - Abba Diddimos.
As he recalled his youngster memories, he
saw the young Diola drawn clearly inside
the Abba Diola he knew at the moment.
Young Diola was someone who doesn`t
care about anything. The more he tried to
be witty, the more he found himself a
fool. As a sponge sucks in all that is wet,
his mind sucked in all that is evil, until it
was full of hatred and revenge. He fussed
and criticized everything and everyone.
Was there anything that didn`t bother
Diola? Nothing!
Some say, perhaps the fact that he never
knew his father could be the reason
behind his unwholesome personality.
After the Ethio-Italian war the
whereabouts of his father remained a
mystery for a long time. He can`t
remember when his mother spent a day
without shedding a tear.
His mother used to cry whenever some
wandering dog brought back part of a
human body mutilated in the war,
thinking that it was her husband`s. She
would scare off the dogs and take
whatever human remains they were
feasting upon. She would look at it and
say, “That isn`t my husband`s hand” OR
“This doesn`t look like my dear`s leg.” “I
knew his hands very well. I`ll always
remember his fingers too.”
And then she would cry. But Diola never
shed a tear. He just kept silent. Whenever
Diola fought with a guy in the village,
what he dreaded most wasn`t getting into
fist fight, but being insulted mom`s boy or
son of a whore.
One day an ironmonger monk called
Abba Finhass came to that ugly village as
he remembered it. He never understood
why Abba Finhass avoided the Italians
who lived on a corner near their house, in
a big mansion with a huge compound.
They were one of those Italians that
stayed in Ethiopia after the war was over.
Particularly Abba Finhass always hid
whenever he saw Busky-a member of the
family dwelling in the mansion. Or he
would run as fast as he could to take
refugee into the neighboring house
usually it was Diola and his mother`s
house. Some times Diola finds Abba
Finhass getting into a hot debate with his
mother.
“If you don`t tell me where your
husband had disappeared carrying the
cross, I`m going to rip out your eyes with
these pincers.” He`d once heard him
intimidate her.
“I don`t know where he is!” she replied.
“Why do you think I`m always crying? Is
it not because I couldn`t find him?”
“You`re pretending, you traitor_” He
replied. “You`re denying the truth just
like your husband.”
Their dispute continued day in and day
out until a day when the black –smith
barged in the hut where Diola and his
mother were sitting.
“Are you going to tell me where your
husband is, or not?”
“How many times shall I tell you? I don`t
know!”
He went out without a word, shut the
door and locked it. He set the small straw
cottage on fire. Mother and child
panicked imprisoned inside a hut with no
window to escape. Smoke blinded them,
they couldn`t breathe. They tried to open
the door. It took them a long moment to
break it open. But it was too late. His
mother could no longer fight for her
breath. She was dead. Diola Survived
with critical burns on his body. He
couldn`t do anything except to stand with
tears in his eyes and watched his mother
burn to death. He still remembered her
cries of agony. That was the time Diola
cried for the first time in his childhood.
Villagers arrived after it was all over.
Since then hatred set in his small brain.
He hated everyone. He was left alone to
lead a life of misery in that filthy village.
There was a time when hunger forced
him to eat out of the garbage scaring
away the dogs with a common interest.
Survival became harder and harder.
One afternoon, he was walking past his
mother`s burnt remains, near the ruins
that used to be their place. He saw the
gate adjoining their hut that led to their
Italian neighbors, wide open. He didn`t
hesitate. His hunger wouldn`t let him. He
went in and begged for a job. He stated
living as a courier –boy for the Italian
family. At least, he was now better than
the dogs.
When the Busky family was divided into
two separate families-for unclear reasons-
he went along the family that moved to a
Western Ethiopian state by the name
Kaffa. He had no thoughts in his mind,
except to live in submission with the
Busky family in the town of Bonga. He`d
no alternative either. Among the
members of the Italian family in Bonga,
young Mormordino Busky was the most
prominent. Next to his dog, Mormordino
took good care of Diola Ayalew. Diola`s
strong bond with Mormordino made it
possible for him to lead a better life.
Though he served Mormordino with all
his heart, he never felt he was being
abused.
When his father Aleka Ayalew arrived in
Bonga, he was still living a life of
submission. Nobody knew where he came
from. Diola had felt a sudden wave of
hatred, when he announced that he was
his real father. He recalled the time when
his peers used to call him a whore`s son.
He remembered his mother burning to
death. The flames eating her flesh in the
middle of the night.
“Where`ve you been until today?” Diola
asked in an uncontrollable anger.
“Where`ve you been when I was going
through unexplainable pain with my
mother? Where were you when my
mother was burning alive? Where`ve you
been when I was eating out of the
garbage?”
“Listen my son, I …” Aleka Ayalew
started to explain with tears in his eyes.
Diola didn`t let him. “Don`t tell me
anything. I`ll not listen to your excuses. I
can never forgive you. Go back to where
you came from. I don`t want to relive the
past every time I see you.”
My son,” Aleka Ayalew said pleading him
with his eyes. “Forgiveness needs a heart
to accept it. I`m not here to beg your
forgiveness. I know that, since you can`t
understand the life I`ve lived in suffering.
I don`t expect you to forgive me for
making your life full of misery and pain.
I`ve heard everything you have gone
through. But I`m now here to make it all
up to you. If you`ve the heart you`ll
accept and use what I`ve got to give.”
Something in his father`s tone of voice
made him want to know what it was.
“What is it?” he asked him.
“I won`t tell you now. We need some
time. It is a long story. I`m staying here
for a time.”
“No. I don`t want it for some other time.
I hate to keep things for some other time.
If you`re going to tell me, tell me now
and go back to where you came from.”
“It`s not something to be told in an
instant my son, it needs time.”
Aleka Ayalew, though he stayed in Bonga
for a period much longer than Diola
expected, he was not able to get his
attention at all. He never listens to him.
He kept avoiding him whenever he went
to talk to him.
Young Shagiz who visited the electronic
shop more often than Diola started
getting intimate with Aleka. So he poured
his heart to this young man instead of his
son. As Aleka Ayalew realized the
brilliance of mind this young man had, he
decided to share all the secrets he`d been
intending for his son. However, before he
told him the secret he tattooed the key to
unlock it on his back. Aleka was sure that
Shagiz hasn`t wholly understood
everything. But he knew that there will
come a day that he`ll fully realize the
meaning hidden behind.
Aleka Ayalew tried to tactfully approach
Diola and tell him things he thought were
important. But he never listened or he
never understood. Usually he tells him
about ancient Ethiopian kings. Though
his son never had any attention, he kept
telling him the stories.
“Leaders of Ethiopia – starting with
those at ancient times-have a certain thirst
for power.” He would tell him.
“So what do I`ve do with it? I don`t care
if they`re greedy or not! Anyway, what is
there to be greedy about, if they`re not
greedy for their power?” Diola would
reply angry.
Aleka Ayalew had a way of relentless
story telling once he begun. He would go
on and on.
“So my son…” he went on. “Because of
this covetous attitude they`d for power
and their throne, they were willing to do
or sacrifice anything for the continuation
of their authority. To protect themselves
from a possible assassination they used
magical arts prepared by the greatest
magical artists and wise men of the
world. Let me tell you about Atse Zera
yakob as an example.
“I don`t want to hear it!” Diola would
object. “I`m tiered. And you`re boring
me.”
Aleka Ayalew would ignore his protests
and he`d go on. He never stopped.
“King Zera Yakob ruled over Ethiopia
for more than thirty four years. His
headquarters was in Showa - the central
part of Ethiopia. And when his enemies
in Axum were getting more powerful, he
established a new town called Debre
Berhan and there he built a very large
palace.”
“In the name of God, you`re harassing
me! That is not my concern.”
Aleka Ayalew would go on. “Atse Zera
Yakob was indeed a wise man. He was
also an author. He wrote many books.
`The book of Light` and `The book of
Negs` were a few among his works. He`d
shown his unique ability and talent as a
book critique and research along side
with and favoring contemporary authors.”
“You were telling me about sorcery and
now you suddenly change the topic to
writing. Please, no more history! What
damned day did you came to me?”
“Did you know why Atse Zera Yakob
usually avoided the mass?”
“It`s better if I don`t. And I don`t want
to know.”
“Nobody ever saw him when he went to
church and back to his place every day.
That was because the road that led from
the palace to his church was enclosed
between two walls that run the entire
length.
He made his priests pray all night long
going around his palace, lest his enemies
did evil sorcery. So his priests spent the
entire night enchanting prayers of
exorcism, sprinkling holy water and
enchanting the psalms. But later on they
say he`d started going out into town
sometime. Why do you think he did it?”
“I`ve no idea. And I prefer you not to tell
me.”
“He made his wise men and magicians
prepare a powerful talisman! It was a
talisman which protected the bearer from
an attack by any sharp weapon.”
Now there was a flash of interest on
Diola. The particular topic seemed to
have an effect on him.
But Aleka Ayalew ignored it and went on.
“The land-lord of Adal at the time -
Arwae Bedlay - rebelled against the king,
refusing to pay taxes and mobilizing an
army to engage in war against the king.
When the king heard the land-lord`s
intentions, he set out to fight him with
only few of his soldiers. He arrived at a
location at the out skirts of the territory
claimed by the traitor. He was not
intimidated when he looked at the
multitude of soldiers in Arwae`s army.
Instead he commanded the soldiers with
him to display courageous and daring acts
of pride and invincibility which was
magnified with battle songs from drums
and trumpets. He won the war before it
was even started. Enemy soldiers were
overcome with fear when they saw their
opponents herald the inevitability of their
victory. The battle was over when the
king himself beheaded Arwae Bedli. Zera
yakob was blessed with such boldness and
courage because of the secrets I told you
earlier.
He was absolutely sure about the
impossibility to attack him with any of
the weapons at that time.
That gave him the courage to face his
enemies far more powerful than him. The
talisman he bears would always protect
him from harm. He knew that …now
Zera Yakob`s skeleton is kept in the
monastery of Daga Estefan.”
“Did you travel all the way here just to
tell me that? Was this the secret you`re
going to tell me?” Diola said in shear
frustration and rage.
“No, not only that.” replied Abba
Diddimos. “Part of the remains of King
Zera Yakob in Daga Estefan is missing.
Some bones were broken off the skeleton
and taken away with the reason that,
anyone holding a part of Zera Yakob`s
skeletal remains is immune to an attack
from a weapon. The brave patriot and
warrior Belay Zeleke fought the invading
Italian army from the top of a mountain
in a vulnerable standing position, without
being hit with even a single bullet though
a torrent was raining upon him. He
fought wearing a piece of Zera Yakob`s
bone on his neck. You`ll be amazed at
how he fought off the highly armed
Italian army from a mountain top with
nowhere to hide. It seemed as though it
was a miracle. And it was a miracle. You
can go and see for yourself the skeleton
of Atse Zera Yakob at Daga St. Estefan
monastery. It has missing parts. Count it
and you`ll see that I`m telling the truth.”
“Please! Belay Zeleke fought bravely
because he was born brave.”
“I`m not telling you that he wasn`t
brave.The fact that he used a secret
wisdom could only amplify his bravery
and heroism, not diminish it. Being wise
is by itself is heroic. His act in not using
the wisdom to personal gain makes him
even more heroic. He was a hero. I know
exactly why he wore the piece of bone. I
was very close to him. When he was
fighting the Italian army from his forest
base, I was sailing on Tana transporting
army supplies to the Italians. I was an
inside man working for the Ethiopian
intelligence. I was their info-man. That
was when I met Belay Zeleke. Even I
helped him in getting his hands on the
skeleton.”
A sudden fit of anger came over Diola.
“Can you help me too, so that I can find
and burn that evil blacksmith they call
Abba Finhass, like he burnt my mom?” he
told him.
“Forget about him and let me finish.”
Abba Diddimos replied. “As I was telling
you; Belay Zeleke used the wisdom in
some other instant. A critical
misunderstanding was created between
the king-who returned from exile at the
time-and Belay. The conflict reached to
the point where the kind wanted Belay
dead. The king`s army once fired a stream
of bullets on him. But not a single shot
got him.
After that he was arrested and put to
prison. He was able to miraculously
escape against all odds, through
hundredth of bullets coming out of the
prison guards` rifles. He had to first kill a
couple of the armed guards with his bare
hands. Finally he was sentenced to death
by hanging, because he can`t be executed
with bullets.”
“I told you, to give it to me too. If you
can`t then stop telling me about it.”
“If you had the heart, I would`ve given
you something greater. But you aren`t
brave enough, you`re gutless!” Aleka
Ayalew told him.
At some other day, Aleka Ayalew spoke to
him about a secret he`d been keeping
with himself for many years, but just
enough of it to show him a glimpse. He
didn`t tell him the whole story. A secret
that was forcing him to exile since 1941!
Now, when he began revealing to his son
what he`d locked away out of anyone
else`s reach since 1969. Diola flung his
arms around his father with pure joy.
“You`ve just became my real father.” he
said, overcame with ecstasy. “I hated you
till this moment, for not being there for
me. Oh, but now…! Oh, and promise me
not to tell it to anyone but me!” his heart
was playing rock and rolls.
Diola never liked the way his father
behaved unusually close to that Shagiz
boy who often visited the electric shop
run by the Italians. He hated the way the
two talked-as though they were best
friends. He began to suspect if his father
was telling Shagiz the secret he`d
promised only for him. Every time he saw
them together his emotions of hatred and
jealousy ignited burning through his soul.
He wished to strangle him to death. But
there was no guarantee for him that his
father wouldn`t pass the precious secret
to someone else, even if he got rid of
Shagiz. Finally when his devilish
intentions went beyond his control, he
decided to get rid of the keeper of the
secret - his father! He made up his mind
that the only way he could be sure of
keeping the secret only to himself was by
killing his own father. Otherwise he`d
have to spend the rest of his life getting
rid of everything his father has been
telling him. He can`t kill it all. His
decision was absolute.
He waited for the right time. One evening
he took Mormordino`s loaded gun to the
old hut where Aleka Ayalew used as a
bedroom. Aleka Ayalew looked up from a
book he was reading by a light from a
lantern and smiled when he saw his son.
“My Son! You came to me at last.” He
said guessing that he understood him
now. “My son, you`re my only one. Sit
down; I have something to tell you.”
“You don`t have anything to tell me.
Whatever you told me, I`ve heard it from
others. You don`t know how to keep a
secret.”
He took out his gun and aimed it at his
head.
“What happened to you, my son? In the
name God! What on earth…what_”
“In the name of God?” he laughed out
loud. “Are you an Easter sheep or a bread
to be blessed? Only a sheep is blessed in
the name of God when its throat is cut,
not a man! If this talkative tongue of
yours is not shut up for good, you are
going to talk a lot more.”
“Please my son, have some decency_”
“You haven`t given me anything except
this thing that you told me! Oh poor
Diola! What have you to pass for me as a
father except the secret? Don`t you think
I have to make that mine only? But you
can`t shut your mouth. If you have that
kind of lose mouth, the very secret you
have told others will destroy you.” He
laughed again. “I`ll not ask for your
forgiveness. I have found what I want
from you. I don`t need your blessings or
damnations.”
He pulled the trigger and went on firing
all the bullets he loaded. His father
bathed in blood, fell face down on the
book he was reading. Diola thought he
was about to say something.
It wasn`t long before he regretted what
he did. The following day he realized it
was a hasty action. He killed his father
before he found out the whole secret out
of him. He burned with anger when he
found out that his father kept part of the
secret from him. He was going to tell him
next time they met. He didn`t even care
to hide the evidence and was convicted of
murder.
Mormordino Busky was the one who
helped him break out of jail and took
off to Sicily to live with Busky`s family.
Since then he had lived watching Busky`s
back.
He later found out that the reason for the
blood-feud between Mormordino`s
family was the same part of the secret
that his father was going to tell him. He
was sure that a man as honorable as
Mormordino wouldn`t be here for
something of no value. That`s why he
was again searching for the clue on Daga
Estefan Island. He knew he was chosen
because of his color not his abilities.
Mormordino was wise to plan to use a
native that can easily mix up with the
monks to achieve his goal. Now Diola
was ready to disguise himself as a monk.
The murderer was now covered up inside
a monk`s yellow attire. An agonizing
regret was buried deep in his heart. He
regretted killing his father before he
retrieved the secret. Now even if he
found out the most wanted part of the
secret he was supposed to give it to
Mormordino. The sharp-eyed guards
would be upon him as soon as they knew
he had found something. He recalled
what his father told him when he saw the
skeletal remains of Atse Zera Yakob in a
glass casing. He promised himself to get a
piece of bone from it. Then he would be
immune to death. But how? How could he
elude the wise monks in the monastery?
…Or who would get him the permission
to enter the storeroom?
He imagined wearing a piece of this
powerful bone and fantasized bullets
flowing like water all around him, but
without touching a single hair. He
fantasized doing whatever crime he
wished not bothered with bullets at all.
He had always been proud of his
muscular strength. He looked at his full
biceps and smiled. Then he kissed it.
But, if only his wish had come true, then
no one would come between him and the
greatest secret. And as soon as he found
it he would tell Mormordino to kiss his
ass. Because he was sure he would teach
Mormordino`s guards a lesson if he wore
that piece of bone. Then he can even
make all of the don`s companies under
his control. Only he would know the
secret in the monastery. Or else, he can
choose to spend the rest of his life as a
slave. Also there was no guarantee that
poverty would once again visit him when
he got old.
Diola came to his feet and went to the
storeroom contemplating about a means
to get his hands on a piece of the miracle
bone.
CHAPTER 16
Some time has gone since the bright
spring flowers withered away from the
mountains of Ethiopia. But the island of
Daga Estefan still blooming with the
color of its tress a lively green. It was in
the late summer of 2005. Winter had
already set in. The prayers in Ethiopian
monasteries were more fervent than any
other time. Monks were pleading God to
save the country from a massacre. The
unrest, which came following the first
democratic election, was threatening to
take the lives of many.
It wasn`t allowed to listen to a radio in
the monastery. But one of the monks
went to town reluctantly and brought
back a small radio. Day to day, the
number of monks who sat around the
radio in the evenings listening to the news
kept increasing.There was of course no
good news. Also it was a time that clearly
brought to light the fact that most of the
monks were academically efficient. They
were noticed tuning to the news
broadcasted in English as well as in many
other foreign languages. The voice of
America and Germany were the most
popular ones. All were saying the same
thing, “This and that amount of people
were killed because of the turmoil in the
country following the 2005 elections.”
“Cry monks…they say the victims were
only young.” says a monk.
“The youth is hiding in the attic like mice,
we must pray for them_,” says another.
“Abba, what you`re saying is not
appropriate. You better keep silent,” said
another monk. “Or why didn`t you run
for parliament yourself? Are you trying
to send my soul to eternal damnation
while I`m here to receive the blessings of
heaven! Stop; don`t ever come to me with
your politics.
I told you not to bring that radio…”
“Why were monks not allowed to vote?”
asked another young monk with a sense
of humor.
“What kind of vote could a monk give,
except prayer?”
“Who did you vote for, Abba?” His jokes
went on. The monk went along with him,
“I voted for God.”
Everyone laughed, except one.
The strict elderly monk was angry. “I told
you monks better leave this alone before
it took you to hell. This radio is the devil
creating all the blasphemy! I swear I
would throw it into the lake if you don`t
behave!”
If there are monks among you who
would like to become a politician, you can
go and run for it. We are here to seek the
kingdom of Heaven. Goodness gracious!
Oh Holy Mary! Can you see these monks
going crazy trying to become
politicians?”
Better to say, you didn`t say your prayers
this morning. The election issue kept
distracting me. Please let`s break this
damned radio…”
In spite of the elder monk`s pleading,
there was no one who conferred with
him.
Another monk spoke, how about Abba
Gebre-Egzie…remember the time when
Ethiopian war planes flew across Tana on
their destructive mission to the North
during the Ethio-Eritrian war, he used to
cry “They are killing them! They went to
massacre them.” …was he still feeling his
Eritrean blood, then? So, why is he silent
now? Isn`t he supposed to be concerned
with an Ethiopian issue him?”
“You shouldn`t say that!” replied another.
“He never believed in an Eritrean
citizenship. Perhaps he was saying that
because the civil war concerned him. As
you can see, he insisted on calling
Ethiopia his country until today!? Heroes
like Zeriay Deres sacrificed their lives for
Ethiopia, not for Eritrea! Was it not
Ethiopia that the Ethiopian gate of fire,
the defensive wall of Ethiopia – Ras
Alula had been protecting? I don`t care if
you were born in the North or the South,
West or East of the country. Tell me if
anyone wanted to know your tribe while
you`re in this monastery. I`m sure
nobody did. We`re all connected and
interconnected. We`ve been mixing and
remixing for many years. Why can`t you
realize this and develop a wider mind.
Why do you wish for a limit, a small
world only for yourself, when you belong
to a vast diverse country with a common
heritage? Don`t allow a narrow mind to
rule over you! The only proud part of
you had been the belief in your Ethiopian
blood. That`s all.”
“The solution is not to give a chance for
tribal political parties to flourish. That`s
it. Those are the parties who`ve created
division among the people. In Ethiopia,
you can find a tribe with only six people.
Are they supposed to establish a party?
It would be incredulous. But if one of
them had the capability and the brilliance
to rule over Ethiopia, what is wrong with
it? Nothing! I`m okay with it. The criteria
for a person to rule over a country
should be intellectual brilliance, not tribal
membership. A good leader has always
good followers.”
“You said right, Abba.” said a monk in
reply. “Sure, to rule over Ethiopia what
should be considered must be the
brilliance of intellect not tribal hierarchy.
Ethiopia needs someone with a vision
and good will. A leader with a sense of
good will shall be a success in all paths of
his leadership endeavors. Because,
consciousness is from God! Ethiopia
needs a leader like King Tewodros. But
Ethiopia doesn`t even know it`s true
leaders! Forgive those who`ve fled leaving
Tewodros alone at Mekdela and those who
had led the English up to the tip of
Mekdela to end his life.” Every monk said
whatever comes to his mind.
Suddenly the angry old monk grabbed
the radio and tossed it out into the lake.
The monk who`d brought it from town
didn`t hesitate a moment to jump up and
into the lake without even bothering to
take off his hat. Though he searched the
shallow end of the lake for many hours,
there was no sign of the radio. Anyway its
batteries were dead. It was operating with
slaps and shoves. But the radio was
making them feel like politicians. At first,
losing the radio wasn`t taken lightly
among the monks. But, soon the news of
Mirage`s arrival diverted all their
attention.
“Why do I always find Abba Mirage
reading poems written on Berana
manuscripts?” a monk said.
“Perhaps he loved poetry.”
“No. the fact that he reads a single poem
every day like a prayer doesn`t prove his
love for poetry.” replied another monk.
Today Abba Mirage was still in his hut
though the midnight bell has already
tolled. He seemed as though determined
to uncover the secret behind the poem
The Passion of Peter. He spent the entire
evening trying to solve it. He had read the
writing he found inside the guitar and the
one on the Berana Manuscript, time and
again. He read it one word at a time.
When that didn`t work he read it one
alphabet at a time. He pleaded the letters
with his eyes as though they can tell him
the mystery they`d held. There were times
he`d wished if he were a man of
literature. He was now aware that the
puzzle can`t be solved only by being a
man of literature. Nevertheless, he was
engaged in a constant battle with the
letters of this poem.
In the middle of the night his heart leapt
in joy as he thought he`d found a
connection between the numbers and the
letters in the verses. He`d a poem and
numbers. The only connection between
the two must be a direct one, he thought.
So the numbers might be telling the
positions of words or letters in the poem.
Full of hope, he decided to try it,. He
started with the numbers 154. Then he
went to the 15th verse of the poem. It
read:-
Lest I abandon Ethiopia and forget my
promise,
Then he counted to the fourth word in
the verse. It said `abandon`. He repeated
the word to himself.
“Abandon…forget…”
He noticed that the same word scribed on
the parchment had four letters slightly
different in shape and boldness from the
rest of the letters in the words abandon
and forget. They seemed a bit slanted to
the side and bolder than the other six.
The four words were A,A,D and G.
He tried to read them together “GAAD”
“DAAG” “AGAD” “DAGA”. At last the
letters created one meaningful word.
“DAGA!” Abba Mirage jumped up in
delight.
“I`ve found the lead!” he shouted.
“DA`GA”
He was talking to himself like a paranoid.
“Daga…ok, then what?” he asked
himself. Abba Mirage brought out a
special mirror he carried in his luggage
he uses to look at the tattoo on his back.
He was now in a completely different
mood of excitement. He took off his
clothes waist up and looked at the tattoo
reflected from the angled mirror by the
light from the lamp. He copied down the
small numbers written inside the circular
part of the big letter “ቶ” similar to the
one on the parchment.

“544 95 106 2933 775 30456 527 332

፬፬፬975…”

Now Abba Mirage was sure about the

meanings of the numbers. The larger
ones were verse numbers while the
smaller subscripts pointed to the words in
the specific verses. That was his
breakthrough.
He copied down every verse, the numbers
pointed to on a separate piece of paper.
The Ethiopia verses run as follows:-

The 164thverse:-
To the chapel from “Bethlehem”,

The fourth word: “Bethlehem”

The 13th verse:-

As bulky as a mountain;

The 5th word: “mountain”

He now tried to form a sentence by
bringing together the three words he`d
discovered so far.
It read, “Daga Bethlehemmountain …”
he smiled though the words had no clear
meaning. He went to the next verse - the
14th:-
`Its neck bent down`

He took the 4th word: “down”

When he added it to the first three words,
a more meaningful sentence was
constructed.

IN DAGA DOWN BETHLEHEM

MOUNTAIN…

He went on with more vigor. There was

no turning back now.
The 38 and 39th verse said,

The sheepherder`s square as the

summer;
The winter as the streaming river;

The subscript number was 23, but he

imagined it to be meant two words at the
second positions, since there weren`t 23
words in the verse.
So he took the two words “sheepherder`s”
and “square” and added them to the
sentence.

The 1202nd, 3rd, 4th verses said,

A baby dove that hunger made so
powerless,
That famine drove out of its cage,
And flung it under a tree,

The subscript pointed to the 5th word

“under”.
Now the sentence gave a clear meaning. It
was talking about a location. He put them
all together. Could it be a map?

“IN DAGA, DOWN THE

BETHLEHEM MOUNTAIN AT THE
FOOT OF SHEEPHERDER`S
SQUARE …”
The next verse was the 40th. It goes:-

At the hall of the valley, under the roof

of clouds

He wrote down the 3th and 6th words.

“hall” “valley”:-

The 81st verse read:-

And To “House of Books” All the

way;

The 4th word was “Books”.

The 45th and 46th verses

 Sprinting the mole in a race,
Hide - and - seek with the fox

Had a word “with” as the subscript

pointed?
He added the word to his sentence to
form an incomplete sentence:
IN DAGA DOWN THE BETHLEHEM
HILL AT THE FOOT OF
SHEEPHEARD`S SQUARE IN THE
HALL OF THE VALLY`S GORGE
WITH BOOKS…
At this point, there was a discontinuity in
the flow of numbers. All the numbers
had a common structure until now. Abba
Mirage was confused. What could the next
number be pointing to? And why was it in
Ethiopic? He tried to find the meaning hidden
behind the numbers ፬፬፬-the three fours in
Ethiopian numeric. When he found no
clues, he had no other choice but to add
the three Ethiopic fours next to the
sentence he was constructing.
Then he passed on to the next pair of
numbers.

The 97th verse read,

I shall find a corner to hide, to cuddle
away where I can
I shall find a place of patience
He selected the 2nd - 6th words “shall find”
and added it to his sentence as a final
word. A word with a meaning to say
“shall not perish”.
Finally, he read the completed solution of
the puzzle. He wasn`t yet entirely sure if
it exactly said what it was supposed to say.
IN DAGA, DOWN THE
BETHLEHEM HILL UNDER THE
SHEEPHEARD`S SQUARE IN THE
HALL OF THE VALLY WITH
BOOKS ፬፬፬SHALL FIND_
Now at least part the puzzle was solved.
Abba Mirage jumped up in joy. Almost all
the words he managed to put together
were the names of locations found on the
island he was staying.
The puzzle was carefully prepared in a
way such that to exactly produce the
words as a solution, using the poem as a
tool of secrecy. It was an amazing
configuration. Abba Mirage was amazed.
I`ve carried this secret with me all my life! He
thought. I`ve carried a jigsaw on my back all
my life! An unsolved jigsaw! However, even now
I`m still unable to solve it completely. I`ve just
found only the hint. Daga is the island he
was staying now. Right here lays the heart
to the solution of the puzzle.
He recognized the church built east of
the island on the hill. He knew the
sloping road down from the hill. He had
been walking along it daily. He knew it
like the palm of his hands. The place
formerly called sheepherder`s square was
the guard house used by the store keeper
as a post. Therefore, according to the
word-map constructed just now, there
should be a valley somewhere. Moreover,
there should be a hall inside it. Therefore,
if he succeeded in locating this hall, he
should be able to find the Ethiopic
numerals ፬፬፬ on a book or some kind of
scroll kept in the hall. He had what so
ever no clue about the meaning of the
numeric pointers.
He didn`t want to waste any time. He got
out of his den and went up the hill. It
was in the middle of the night. He stood
near the store room`s wall and tried to
look inside through a crack on the gate.
The store guard was nowhere in sight.
A hand touched him from behind and he
turned around startled. The guard stood
there looking at him in a way that made
him feel guilty. He must`ve been
following him. He opened the door and
showed him a sign to come into the
compound.
“Congratulations doctor Mirage!” said
the guard leading Abba Mirage into the
storeroom. “You`ve passed the test with
flying colors.”
Mirage had nothing to say except to stare
at him in utter amazement. The lights in
the store room gave the red carpets
beneath them a glowing fire`s scene.
The guard rolled up the carpets to the
corners of the room. Under the red
carpet was an iron door covered with
dust. He brought a small curved key out
of a small iron box, blew some of the
dust off the iron door and unlocked it.
The iron door strangely slid down into
the floor. The cellar was in absolute
darkness. He produced four more sickle
shaped keys from the little box and
handed them to Mirage.
Then the storekeeper smiled at Mirage
and told him one more time,
“Congratulations for your success in the
exam.”
“Doctor Mirage,” the store keeper didn`t
wait for Mirage`s reply. Now he was
holding a red over alls in his hand. “By
now you might`ve guessed why we made
you wear the yellow monk`s robe. We did
it not because we want to dishonor its
sacredness. Now, you`ve to wear the red
robe. Then you`ll go down this basement
into a cave. You must continue walking
through the cave unlocking the doors you
find with these keys.” The monk guard
took one of the traditional wax torches
from its altar and gave it to him.
Doctor Mirage felt a wave of relief as he
took off the monk`s robe he found hard
to get used to. There was a sigh of relief
and freedom as he took off the robe he`d
been wearing in spite of his true self, as
though a great load was finally relieved
from his shoulders.
Without a second thought, he went down
the cellar, finding his way by the light
form the wax torch he held. He carefully
lowered himself down on to the steel
made glittering ladder. As he reached the
bottom, he could clearly see that the
interior was completely covered with a
shining layer of an aluminum-like material
including the floor and the ceiling. It was
a narrow man-made ally that has
obviously been a cave at first. He`d
walked only a few steps forward when he
heard a sound that seemed to originate
from a huge sliding object. He remained
in his tracks and watched an enormous
black steel gate slid shut a few steps
behind him, creating an unmovable
barrier between him and the other side of
the narrow alley. Aided by the light from
his torch, he could read a word branded
on the iron door - ዴርቶጋዳ - in Ge`ez
alphabet, pronounced dertogada. The
letters were inscribed in a golden color
and had an ancient style of inscription.
His first reaction was to look back and up
to where he came through. But at the
same instant the cellar door also slid back
in place, trapping him in. Now he could
no longer listen to the enchantment of
the monks and their melodious prayers
from the church, which were audible to
him until just now. He concluded that the
walls had to be sound proof or very
thick. He no longer heard any sounds
from outside the cellar except the
accentuated sounds of his quick breath
and pounding heart.
He searched the front of the gates for a
key hole and found one. He tried four of
the keys the monk gave him. All failed to
fit. He inserted the fifth key. He was
already on the verge of panic, however
much he tried to calm himself down.
That last key might be the difference
between life and death. He was lucky.
There was a clicking sound as the fifth
key went all the way down and the gates
slid to each side. The moment he stepped
through, they slid back shut again behind
him.
He was now in a completely different
environment than the previous iron
walled confinement. This was a very huge
living room. The floor was covered with
marvelously decorated red carpets. Even
by the light from his ax torch, he could
see that it was a place built following the
designs of modern architecture. He
found it impossible to believe that, there
could be such a state-of-the-arts facility
built in the middle of a completely
barren island except for trees and an
ancient monastery far from a trace of
modernity.
He searched the spacious room with his
eyes. In the center stood a long iron-made
candle stick, on which there were lots of
candles. He had just begun walking
towards it thinking of lighting them, as
the whole room was filled with a brilliant
light. He looked up to the ceiling to see
where it came from. There were
enormous fluorescent lamps attached to
the ceiling, which must`ve been motion
activated.
“Anybody here?” he shouted out. There
was only silence as a reply. The living
room was more like a library. The walls
were lined up with shelves filled with
voluminous books of ancient origin. He
thought about the solution to the puzzle
that said:- in daga, down the bethlehem hill
under the sheepheard`s square in the hall of the
vally with books ፬፬፬shall find_ But, he
wandered, what does `፬፬፬` mean?
He looked around the living room in awe.
A round table was placed in the middle
of the comfortable looking red chairs.
His attention shifted to the fireplace
where there was an inscription in the
Ethiopic alphabet, the same words he`d
now gotten used to in red bold
letters:–maher shalal hash baz
Then he saw another door, he guessed led
out of the living room.
He reasoned out to himself that this
room was anything but a hall. Thus, he
made up his mind to try the next room.
He went straight to the door and
randomly chose one of the five keys and
inserted it into the lock. He turned the
key in the lock. The door slid wide open.
Darkness was awaiting him again. He
stepped in holding the torch in front of
him. This room was definitely a hall,
judging from the numerous chairs that
filled its vastness. He walked between the
rows of chairs. There were speakers in the
vast hall lined up upon the walls.
Suddenly light filled the hall. Photos of
the two greatest Ethiopian kings - Atse
Tewodros and Atse Menilek - hung from the
walls.
From the speakers came a thunderous
voice. “Doctor Mirage, welcome to
Dertogada.”
There was a stage with a podium on one
corner. Nevertheless, he looked and saw
no one speaking from there. He went up
to the stage and looked behind the black
curtains, to see if there was anyone there.
Instead, he found a back stage door. He
opened it. It led down through a series of
metal steps that shimmered in his torch
light. As soon as he stepped on the first
step, it took him down with it. He was
suddenly taken over by panic until he
realized that it was a kind of elevator. By
the time he reached the bottom, the torch
in his hand was burned out and he was in
a complete darkness. He waited for a
moment far the motion activated lights to
come on. They did, brining him face to
face with a state-of-the-art room, more
like a city. He`d never imagined in his
whole life that there would be such a
huge city-like expanse under an island so
seemingly dead and in a state of trance.
He prayed for all this to be real and if he
was dreaming it, he asked God not to
wake him.
Within moments, all doors that have been
kept closed until now suddenly flung
open in unison. Out of all open doors,
people came out. More and more people
came out until the space between the
doors - more like a highway than a
corridor was full of people. What amazed
him most was the unbelievable fact that
they all were making him their centre of
attention. All wore a red dress. Then they
began clapping their hands as if Mirage
just performed a spectacular show.
As the applause ended an elderly man
came forth out of the red crowed to the
square that joined the highway -wide
corridor.
“Thank you for the warm welcome
you`ve just shown our brother doctor
Mirage.” He said addressing the crowed.
Though his voice trembled with age, he
was as joyful as a child would be. Mirage
didn`t take a moment to realize, the man
was Abba Jenberu.
As Abba Jenberu left the square and
walked towards him, all the remaining
crowed went back inside the rooms where
they came out a minute ago, except one.
He waved his hand to Mirage and came to
put his arms around him. It was Jangida.
“I can`t tell you how happy I am to meet
you again.” Jangida told him.
Abba Jenberu intimately greeted Mirage
and told Jangida to show him around the
little underground city. Then he went
back to his office leaving the two alone.
Mirage started his tour around the city in
a cave, aided with the detailed
explanations from Jangida.
He led him to a gate with a sign that read:
-

Dertogada Education
and
Training Section
Jangida pushed a combination of numeric
password onto a secured lock dial
adjacent the gate. Upon their entrance,
Jangida began explaining.
“This section_” he said. “…is where
Dertogada provides academic and
educational trainings. In this section,
trainings are given in engineering,
medicine and other scientific fields. It has
many members that are at the moment
taking trainings inside its various
divisions.” Jangida went on explaining to
Mirage about the main features of the
section. When they completed the tour
and left the room, the door slid shut
behind them.
The next section on their tour was the
Dertogada Research Section. This one was
equipped with manyhigh-speed
processing modern computers and other
hi-tech devices and gadgets. Jangida took
him into each division and showed him
engineers and scientists occupied on their
duties. He even introduced him to some
of them.
Mirage was a lot more amazed when he
led him into the special medical section.
It was a complete state-of-the-art hospital
unlike any other, with a surgical division
unique in its all-embracing services. There
was no type of surgery that couldn`t be
efficiently performed here. Heart Surgery,
Brain Surgery, Neuro-Surgery, Organ
Transplant…name it. It was a place where
the human body could be flawlessly
disassembled and reassembled again.
Now they were in another section: -
Dertogada Intelligence and Security
Section
Jangida introduced him to the section`s
head - colonel Fissiha - a man of vigor
and determination with a graceful
commanding countenance, accentuated by
a partially graying hair.
“Welcome, doctor Mirage.” He said,
greeting him with a firm handshake.
Mirage wondered where he`d seen the
man before. Yes! He remembered. The
colonel was the man who`d given him the
guitar, back when he was in Los-Angeles,
at the shores of the Pacific.
“He is a missile scientist. He sacrificed
abandoning the long-range-scud-missile
development project he`d been working
on in the United States, in order to join
us.” Jangida explained. “He did it for the
sake of his country. It`s okay to call him
“Ethiopia”. That`s his nick name. He is
one of the many scientists recruited and
sent here by engineer Shagiz. All what
you are looking at now was made possible
because of him. He too will be joining us
here as soon as he completed his duties
there, at the decisive hour.”
The colonel nodded his head as a sign of
his reverence for the engineer and shook
their hands again to leave.
“All you see is just the beginning.”
Colonel Fissiha told them and smiled.
There were big computer screens fitted to
the walls, on which satellite images and
pictures showing security events from all
around the world.
A young man came past one of the doors,
introduced himself to Mirage as
Girmachew, and left without saying
much.
As they went into the next room, a man
with a boyish look but a graying hair got
up from his chair and shook Mirage`s
hand.
“My name is General Atnafu Taye. I`m
chief of the Derotogda Defense System.”
He told him.
The general simply pointed to a nearby
door which opened by itself. Inside and
beyond the door, young men in green
army-like overalls were under training
maneuvers.
Gera-another young man approached and
introduce himself to Mirage. The working
overalls he was wearing was smeared with
grease and machine lubricant oil. Even
his face was covered with black oil stains.
He made an unsuccessful attempt to clean
his face with a hand he`d been holding a
wrench, and smiled.
“Doctor Mirage, you should be happy
because you joined us.” Gera said. “I
think you`ll like it here. I`m sure you`re
glad to be part of this mission.”
Mirage didn`t take a moment to recall
where he`d seen this young man before.
Gera was the same young man who`d
read him Tsegaye`s poem back in the way
to Nile. They exchanged knowing smiles.
“Engineer Gera is Dertogada`s
engineering section staff.” Doctor Jangida
told him. “He is a brilliant minded young
man who had participated in the building
of the flying machines called Der-33.
Engineer Gera had been a member of the
American army and a fighter plane pilot
too. He had contributed a great deal in
test flying the Der-33, which was an
outcome of cumulative efforts of various
Ethiopian scientists in different fields of
endeavors from all parts of the world.
“I better give you a tour of Der-33 before
everything else.
He led them towards a huge,
superfluously aerodynamic object and
started to explain.
“You are looking at Der-33. She is a
magnificent work of art and technology.
An AA - an Airborne Amphibian,
meaning it`s designed to operate on land,
under water and in air with an exceptional
efficiency and endurance. The machine
has computer monitored wings which can
be retracted inside its body when it`s not
flying. Without the stretched wings, its
body can go terrestrial in a similar way as
an on land vehicle. In water, its wings and
landing gears are retracted into its body.
Then the whole of its body is
automatically covered with a thick but
very light aluminum alloy, so that it could
act as a submarine.
The AA was designed by Engineer Shagiz
Ejigu. But to give her the shape and her
integrated capabilities that she`s got now,
many Ethiopian scientists had to sweat
day and night. Oh, one more thing_ It is
equipped with a radar-illusive device of
the latest technology that can make it
completely out of any radar`s visibility
range. Of course, by that I meant, at least
all radars in the world operating up until
today. We`ll never know what the future
may come up with. That`s how we were
able to transport Dertogada`s scientists
without the knowledge of the countries
they`ve been working in. We knew it is
illegal to enter the air space of any other
country without permission. However,
who`ll give us the permission to borrow
our own scientists, only because they say
they want to go to their countries. We had
to do it! I think, there will be no hard
feelings if these countries found out
about our trespassing later on. No harm
was meant!” he smiled and opened a very
huge gate to show them a fleet of ships
similar to D-33.
“It is through this gate that these
machines engage and disengage as
submarines.” He said walking towards
another gate. “These are different
versions of D-33 designed specially to
operate under water. They are used to
transport all provisions to Dertogada
under Tana`s waters. The goods are
delivered to them in a conspicuous garage
found in Bahir-Dar that joined the lake at
the rear. Everything and anybody who
arrives at or leave Dertogada, do so
through these AAs - except you.” He
smiled at Doctor Mirage.
He guided his small group of tourists -
Mirage and Jangida-to the silently
operating generators, a very huge library
and a magnificently equipped gym. At
last, when he took them to Abba
Jenberu`s office, Mirage was in a dreamy
state of awe.
Abba Jenberu sat behind a large shiny
dark red table on a comfortable chair,
stroking his snow-white beard. He smiled
at him and showed him to a similar chair
opposite the one he sat.
“You seemed confused…” Abba Jenberu
asked Mirage after a brief moment of
silence. Doctor Jangida had gone back to
work.
“You`re right.” He replied.
“Your confusion is natural. Many of the
new recruits are confused the first time
they`re here. It is to be expected. Who
could imagine finding such a modern and
sophisticated research center in the
middle of an island jungle far from any
hint of civilization? No, not a third world
island!” he paused, took a deep breath
and went on.
“In 1941, the invading Italian army was
forced out of Ethiopia through the allied
armies from both Ethiopia and Britannia.
However, at its outset, the Italian army
set out, confident that the whole of
Africa would be in its clutch. It had gone
through 40 years of preparations to that
end. And at last the army arrived on a
mission of colonizing Africa from a
central strategic location - Ethiopia.” He
pressed a button attached to his table he
used as a short cut to his computer. A
screen that could`ve been mistaken as
part of the wall went live and black and
white photographs of the Italian Army
entering Ethiopia begun to slide-show.
Abba Jenberu went on.
“At the time the Italian army engaged in
war with an East African nation, it had
three hundred and twenty five thousand
infantry. Out of which, two hundred
thousand were Black African soldiers
from Italy`s territories already under its
yolk of colonization.”
Mirage looked up to the screen eager to
see the Italian soldiers. He focused on
black armed soldiers walking along the
European faces.
Abba Jenberu continued his history
session.
“As our country was invaded by a force
beyond its defensive extremes, patriots
fled to the jungles flight from the
shadows. It was an enemy with a high
degree of weaponry superiority over
them, which they couldn`t fight head-on
on a battlefield. There were some who`ve
joined the Italian army to loot their own
land. These traitors led the Italian army to
the hiding places from where the patriots
were fighting back, persecuting them and
bringing more suffering and pillage upon
their country. I`ve lived to see it all. At
the time, I was wise enough to join the
Italian army as a traitor, to fight my kind
of battle. I became their courier boy. I
didn`t take long to secure their trust.
Soon they took me to the Mediterranean
Sea to teach me seamanship. I went to
Italy. I went back home a captain after a
few years. He showed him a photo of
himself accepting the title of captain.
“The invading Italian army made the
town of Gorgora its command centre, so
that it would be possible to control the
whole of the North Western part of the
country-specially Gojam and Gondar as
part of its strategic movement towards
central Ethiopia. No one exactly knows
why the army chose Gorgora-at the
northern shore of Tana - as a base. From
its central location on Gorgora port, it
used boats to transport weapons and food
for its army bases in Gojam province and
around the lake. Then I was made the
captain of a large vessel. The boat was the
largest of all other boats sailing on Tana
at the time. It was nearly as big as a ship,
really. The boat arrived in Tana in 1931
Ethiopia year, but it didn`t stay long on
Lake Tana. I was the captain of this vessel
during the period it was sailing Tana.
Photographs of boats sailing Tana at the
time showed on the screen. On one
photo, Abba Jenberu is seen standing
upon a ship that he sailed with two other
Abyssinians.
“These two you`re looking at standing
with me on the boat are Abba Diddimos
and Abba Finhass. In 1933 when the
defeated Italian army was made to flee
out of the country, so much amusing
events had occurred. The fleeing army
submerged all its boats in the deepest part
of Tana near Angara Island. Many years
after in 1940 a man called Busky head of
one of the families who stayed back here-
did a diving expedition to bring the
sunken boats to the surface again. He
managed to rescue three of the boats -
Saint George, Santa Maria and Sanicola - and
opened a boat repair service he called
Naviga Tana. Later on their names
changed to local and hybrid names -
Andinet, Limalimo and Tatek in their order.
The tell wasn`t strange to anyone around
here. But the exact identity of Busky and
his motives of opening the Naviga Tana
was a mystery to all. In 1967 when the
dictator - Derg - fought its way to the
throne, Busky`s company was confiscated.
When he was no longer able to do
business, he went back home leaving
everything behind. But as it was brought
to light latter on, Busky`s intentions then
were not to improve the transportation
system on Tana, contrary to what was
believed earlier. It was clear that he stayed
behind not because his Italian family
could lead a more comfortable life in
Ethiopia than in Italy. No, he`d some
other reason to stay. There was some
other past secret which have caused the
family a hell of bloodshed.” Abba
Jenberu left his chair, walked towards the
screen and tapped at the photo of the
huge boat that filled the screen from top
to bottom, as if to give his point an
emphasis. Then he presumed his seat
again.
“Other than the three boats rescued by
Busky in 1940, the one I used to be
captain of had been missing to this day.
Can you imagine where?” he stood up
again, walked a few steps back and forth
in agitation and took his seat again.
“This boat went down here, under Tana`s
water. Right heee…rre! Now I am the
only living witness to this fact. Now no
other Ethiopian knows anything about
the missing boat.” Again, he walked back
and forth in the space behind his chair
and sat back.
“This boat we`re talking about was
carefully and deliberately submerged
while carrying a cargo of 59 barrels of
silver coins, 38 barrels of gold bars along
with a few kilos of diamonds and other
iron chests filled with God knows what.
All this was taken away from the ancient
treasury reserve kept by the government
at the time in Gonder and from people
who had the habit of burying their
treasure. It is our own dear treasure!
When the boat was buried under a mud
below water Ayalew, Abba Finhass and I
were among the men who undertook the
job, because we were part of the crew.
After the boat was completely submerged,
the Italian Generals made a map of the
exact spot. Then they covered our eyes
with black cloths and put us in a smaller
boat. Then they took us to Daga Island
under strict watch, at gunpoint. In Daga,
they brought all of us and twenty four of
their own soldiers together under a big
fig tree and fired a torrent of bullets in
the hope of executing all of us. Many
Ethiopians who worked in the cargo
section died that day along with their own
soldiers.
I was wounded on my calf, and was
unable to move. About six bloody dead
bodies fell on me, while I lay under their
weight covered with their blood and
expecting the worst. I could see our
murderer Generals from where I was
stuck. They all seemed to want to keep
the map each to themselves. They
couldn`t agree and at last they started
shooting at each other. The soldier with
the map was shot and fell close to where I
was. I reached out and carefully searched
his pockets for the map with my bloody
hand. I found the map and stacked it
away under a stone near where I fell
down. When the shootout was over all
the top ranking officers were dead except
one. He began searching for the map in
his comrades` pockets. However, you can
imagine what he found. Nothing! …He
went mad. He searched the dead bodies
repeatedly all night. In the morning, he
took the boat and was gone, to my relief.
The general came back with his family to
live in Ethiopia after his journey to Italy.
Nobody ever suspected him to be an
Italian general when he started a business
in Bahir-Dar with another name - Busky.”
Abba Jenberu paused.
Mirage now had the whole picture.
“I got it. But where is the map now?” he
asked him for the first time.
“I kept it hidden. I found my friends
badly wounded. Mine was just a grazed
calf. I covered their wounds with pieces
of cloth I tore away from the dead. I
went down to the monastery and begged
the monks to help me bury the dead. We
dug a deep hole adjacent the lighthouse
and buried all the bodies in one grave. We
stayed for some days in the monastery
and went back to Bahir Dar city. At the
time, the king had just got back from his
exile. He had been to England to ask the
Britannia government for support against
the Italian army. The three of us Ayalew,
Finhass and I were thrown in jail for
treason. In 1950, all three of us broke out
of prison.
Finhass fled to the Northern Mountains.
He was a Jew, so he went to lie there close
to his relatives who lived as blacksmiths.
Soon he was married.
Ayalew and I went to live in a little town
near Bahir Dar city. In 1959, nine years
after …you were born. When you were
about three years old, the king`s soldiers
came for me, so I fled to Daga Estefan
monastery taking you with me.
After a time, Finhass too came to that
island with his daughter named Zipporah.
And since children are not suited for
Daga, the two of you were sent away to
the nunnery – Entons_”
“Are you telling me that you are my real
father?” Mirage interrupted.
“Yes, I am your father. Your mother
was…tortured to death by people who
needed the information about my
whereabouts. They killed her.”
“Why have you waited all this time to tell
me that you`re my father?”
“I was waiting for the right time. Later
on, I came to tell you the truth, but they
told me that you went away from the
monastery. I couldn`t find you. Now
history has brought us together again.”
“And Zipporah`s father is really Abba
Finhass?”
“Yes he is.” replied Abba Jenberu and
went on telling him about the sunken
boat.
“After Aleka Ayalew came here to be with
us, I told him about the map that I had
with meand we came to a decision. That
was to dig out the boat and share the
treasure equally among the two of us. On
the other hand, we didn`t have the
strength and the situation would not
allow it at the time. We needed a lot of
energy to do it. Because the boat was
located very deep below the lake`s floor.
Since we didn`t have a choice, we began
digging. The location of the boat seemed
deeper than we expected, and the hole
kept on getting larger and deeper every
day. There was no sign of the boat.Since
the king`s soldiers were searching for us
we used the hole as a hiding place. It was
later to become a place of sanctuary for
the valuable books and manuscripts
found in the monastery.
It was a perfect place for books, since it
didn`t allow any rain inside it. We had
nowhere to go, so I begun reading a lot
gradually transforming myself. I changed
from a selfish materialist into a
considerate patriot. I was dreaming day
and night about the treasure inside the
boat. Later on, I found myself a changed
man. I started to think about the
wonderful civilization that I saw while I
was in Europe. I was envious. I wished
for the railway lines, the universities and
the magnificent highways of Europe to
my country. When awareness and
knowledge gradually sets in, you`ll
understand and feel that you`re
increasingly being plundered. If you
never know your rights, you`ll never
know you`re under slavery. That`s when a
though hit me. My vision was to make the
already small academic institute within
the cave into an unchanging but up to
date secret organization, which would
pave the path of civilization to this
country. I understood that civilization
could come to this country only through
the efforts of its own children working
for a common goal. And for that purpose
its citizens must be fully educated in
science and technology. We need our own
people to unearth its buried treasures; our
own boys to achieve academic excellence
and use its natural resources to create a
universal transformation. It dawned on
me that, to make Ethiopia under the
ownership of Ethiopians, we need the
right technology in the hands of its
citizens. I spent eons trying to dig out a
boat full of treasure, because I didn`t
have the technical aid I needed. This
country has the same problems I had.
Therefore, I wanted to create the base of
the solution where I am, with what I have
here in this monastery. Only Aleka
Ayalew shared this dream of mine.
Ayalew was known in this monastery as
Abba Diddimos. Abba Diddimos was
someone who needed authority so that he
could bring change.”
He was closely related with the martyr
patriarch Pop Peter. They were intimate.
The patriarch used to tell him that he
wanted to give him a higher papal
position before he was imprisoned by the
fascists in his own country. Abba
Diddimos in turn had always advised the
Pop to change his confrontational
behavior towards the fascists. However,
he never succeeded. Pop Peter died,
executed by the enemy. Since then Abba
Diddimos seemed to me, a changed man.
We had copied the map of the sunken
ship on to a huge `Berana` book`s page.
It was Ayalew`s idea. He persuaded me to
do it, since the map was made on a
perishable paper originally, it would be
better if we copied it on a Berana
parchment, for the sake of its longevity.
“Follow me.” Abba Jenberu said, leading
Mirage into a very large hall that held
stack upon stack of Berana books.
“You see!” he told him, pointing to a
huge volume. At first, he thought it was a
big log lying on the floor, not a book. It
took him a moment to realize that it was
a book. He`d never seen a book of that
size in his entire life.
“This book is six meters high and four
meters wide. It is without doubt the
biggest book in the world. We copied the
map drawn in red ink on page 444 of this
book.”
The two went up specially made ladders
to turn the wooden cover of the book,
which was intricately made. The words
written inside the pages seemed like
Ge`ez, but he couldn`t make out even
one word out of it. Abba Jenberu noticed
his confusion and said, “My son, Mirage.
Don`t worry about reading it. You can`t
understand it. We`ve never used the book,
but I managed to find help in translating
it and know that it is filled with highly
sophisticated scientific knowledge. Even
though it was written using Ge`ez words,
the words are encrypted in a method
called Melwat.” Then Abba Jenberu
produced another small book the size of
a palm from under piles of books to
show it to him.
“This small book is the key to decrypt
this big volume. This was made for a
reason. If an enemy stole this bigger
volume away, they could never read it
without this key. Our fathers were wise.
But us…” he left the words in mid air
you see; this is not a dream or a novel.
It is a true story. It needs a lot of research
to decipher everything this book holds.
But we don`t have the readiness to study
ou8r own history, because we`re unsure
about ourselves. Because we don`t no
longer believe in ourselves. Any way our
goal is not to read and understand the
book. Ok, turn to page 444.” Abba
Jenberu said.
Mirage spent a considerable amount of
time struggling with the pages in an
effort to turn them carefully. He reached
page 443. Then page 405 came. Page 404
was missing. Again, he looked up, to face
Abba Jenberu in confusion. Abba
Jenberu was smiling. It wasn`t a genuine
smile. He knew that Abba Diddimos
deliberately wrote the wrong page `444`
which was a set of four separate 4s
instead of 404.
“Where is page 404?” doctor Mirage
asked.
“You don`t know where page 404 is?”
Abba Jenberu asked him back.
“Me?”
“Yes you. Haven`t you yet seen the tattoo
that Abba Jenberu made on your back
while you were still a child? He was the
one who scribed the poem by The Lauriat
and who gave him the random words to
include in his poem. In 1968, he
encrypted the coded words in the poem
into numbers and tattooed these numbers
on your back. He also used the tattooed
shape of a cross to illustrate the secret
behind the boat sunk years ago. But he
had vanished with the map that showed
its exact location, which was drawn on
this particular page. He had already torn
it out by the time he gave the random
words to the poet. As I was telling you, at
the time he was beginning to get secretive
about everything he was doing. He never
told both of us anything. Perhaps he
never trusted us. In truth, I never trusted
Abba Finhass either. He had always been
careless about his country. The mention
of the very word Ethiopia made him sick.”
Abba Jenberu paced up and down the
hall.
“The only reason that Abba Finhass
stayed in this covenant was to get hold of
the map. Then, when Abba Diddimos run
away taking the map with him, which he
tore out of page 404 of this book; Abba
Finhass and I went after him. After
looking for him for some time Abba
Finhass lost all hopes of finding him. So
as a revenge, he decided to set his house
on fire while Diddimos`s wife was still
inside it and he returned back. I never
gave up though. I followed him to Bonga
and fought him. I somehow won the fight
and confiscated the cross and the coded
poem from him. But I never found the
lost map. He was not carrying it. Later
on, Diddimos was murdered by his own
son. By then both Abba Finhass and me
were back home. Since that time on I
have been building up my dream inside
this cave, without Abba Finhass`s
knowledge. Later on I made you wore the
cross around your neck. It is a similar
cross with the one tattooed on your
back.” As Abba Finhass paused to look at
him intently, a wave of confusion began
sweeping across his face.
“You See My Son, Mirage…to make a
long story short; Finhass was working
with me as a partner at that time. In 1986,
he left the monastery taking his daughter
- who was living at the nunnery at the
time - with him. No one knew where he
had gone.There was no trace of him,
except for the boat he had used for the
voyage that he made to the island where
his daughter lived. From that time on, I
have been engaged with this task in the
cave. As you can see, the cave is now
transformed into a sophisticated modern
research complex. The task came to a
fruitful end because of the relentless
effort and support of wise Ethiopians
living abroad. These individuals are top
scientists and engineers recruited by
Dertogada in a subtle systematic way.
They all have a common understanding
about this place. That it is to be their final
destination. A home to return to and a
place to continue doing what they have
been doing. I`m sure by now you knew
that engineer Shagiz is one such
individual. He was the one who made it
possible for us to recruit the most
capable crew.” Abba Jenberu paused to
give him one of his penetrating gazes.
“What do you expect from me?” mirage
said.
“Two things_” the monk replied. “The
first is to spend the rest of your life
serving in this centre and by doing so,
save your country from destruction. Even
at this hour, organized crime groups are
manipulating your country, conspiring
with greedy government officials.” He
stared at the floor for a moment in
sorrow. Then he looked up and said, “The
Bible called it Maher shalal hash baz _
Ethiopia is now full of frustrated
individuals and nations and hopeless
youth. Many are living with a broken
spirit. We all might have an idea about
what the source of this country really is.
But we haven`t yet developed the
strength and determination to act against
it in unison, united in our hearts and
spirits. Our spirits are broken. We gave
ourselves away to manipulation while in
truthwe should have a common vision!”
“What is the other thing that is expected
from me to achieve this vision?” Mirage
asked.
“You can give us the key to find the boat
lost under water.”
“What?”
“Return to me the cross I gave you.”
“Was that cross a key?”
“There was no way that you could have
any idea about it.”
“But …but the cross_” he couldn`t say
any more except to open his mouth in
awe. He sighed heavily.
“Hand me the cross. It is the key to your
country`s prosperity. Look…”he said
looking toward the screen where the map
of Ethiopia was seen.
“Do you see the map? This map shows
the future Ethiopia. I am ninety-eight
years old. The wealth on the sunken ship
can never be of any use to me. I`m living
the last of my days. I don`t wish to get
richer any longer. …look at the map, if
you really want this country to prosper
then you should think about building
railway lines to connect all its four
corners. Transportation is the basic
infrastructure to enhance a country`s
overall development. These trains will
bring its citizens closer and unite them.
Roads lead to unity. Ants can cross huge
rivers on a bridge that they built by
joining their bodies together as a chain. I
have seen them crossing the Nile.
Likewise, we will cross towards prosperity
along the road we built by joining hand in
hand. We can transform Ethiopia`s
factual unity into a reality only when we
unite the nation economically and socially.
Roads will be the back bones of
Ethiopia`s unification. When we have
efficient highways and railroads then
there will be no waste of time and money.
Everything will be done at fast pace. You
are willing to work anywhere. You can
always go back in a wink of an eye - you
can use the bullet train.
If the leaders of this country were
responsible enough to divert the flow of
funds into communication and transport
rather than spent it on unnecessary
meetings and political propaganda, then
the country could have shaken off
poverty much more easily. But they don`t
want to do this. Because, most are
working, only to bring about their own
prosperity. But, at any time in history
whoever and whatever our leaders are, we
should strive for the development of our
country. Should we sit and wait for good
leaders to come for eternity…? We must
make good leaders of ourselves. You
should support this idea if you care for
the development of your country. The
treasure that is now under water can do
more than what I told you. We can
arrange things so that the government
can work with us. To make the source of
the treasure uncontroversial, we can say
that you are an investor form abroad who
had come with huge amount of money.
Then we will build the railway lines. It
will become a crucial component to the
country`s prosperity. Just think about it!
This is real unity! A unification based on
mutual advantage between nations.
Otherwise, our caring for Ethiopia will
not be more than a pretentious bluff. We
have to build something for this
generation to be proud of its identity and
self worth. When plans and words were
transformed into action then the nation
will have something that is achieved as
one that is a real bond. What`s more, the
flame lighted here will shine all over
Africa and became an inspiration to every
third world nation. Africa will at last take
a step forward. That`s why I am asking
you to give me the key to our solution.
“But the cross…”Mirage said again. His
eyes became misty. He had no courage to
tell him about its loss. It would break his
heart. “I…I gave it to Zipporah…I…I
had no idea…I gave it to her when Abba
Finhass took her away.” he managed to
mumble.
“What?” Abba Jenberu was suddenly
furious. He came rushing to where
Mirage stood and slapped him.
The reason why Abba Finhass run away
with Zipporah has just become clear to
him. He now knew that Finhass did it for
the cross. His lips were quivering in
frustration and anger.
Mirage revived himself out of the
frustration he had gone through for a
week. Then he made up his mind to build
the railway lines and devised a workable
project to achieve it. He promised
himself to reach his goal whatever the
inconveniences. Later even Abba Jenberu
pitied him when he saw his
determination.
“Man`s greatest wealth is his head. The
intellect is the greatest wealth in the
entire world. So now, let us put our all
attention to what we have in our hands.
Your intellect is more worthy to your
country than the wealth in the sunken
boat. …Sorry about my out of line
behavior. Use your wisdom to serve your
country.” he told him. “You will go back to
the US in two days time.”
Mirage honestly promised to serve his
nation and to make himself available to
any kind of mission.
In December 2005 Mirage and Jangida
left the underground base in Tana to the
United States of America in the special
aircraft D-33, with Gera as their pilot.
CHAPTER 17
NEW YORK, USA

NOVEMBER 8, 2005

11:46 PM

A knock on the door to Medora`s room.

She looked up to see the watch ticking
from the wall. It was almost midnight.
She heard it for the second time. She sent
her hand to where her pistol was. She
heard it for the third time.
“Who is there?” Meroda asked
simultaneously cleaning her throat.
“It`s me” replied a rough voice from
outside
“Mirage_”
“Who…?” she wanted to make sure.
“Mirage_” The voice answered. “Don`t
you recognize my voice?”
That brought her off guard. She swung
the door open without a second`s
hesitation, a behavior unlike her. As soon
as it was open, three men made their way
into her living room. She had eyes only
for one of them.
She flung her arms around Mirage. A
surge of powerful emotion swept over
her that made her body shiver. She was
unable to control it.
“Mirage…?” she started to tell him, but
abruptly came to a halt when she noticed
her lips were trembling.
“How are you Meroda?” he asked her
smiling. “Are you okay?”
“NO, I`m not ok! Don`t ask me how I
am!” she roared at him. “Mirage…you`ve
hurt me! You could at least tell me where
you are.” She said. Her eyes followed him
as he went to the couch and sat.
“I was in Ethiopia …”
“And you came back because you missed
me.” She said with a sudden flash of
smile.
“No Meroda! I came back to save
someone`s life…” Mirage didn`t want to
lie to her. “It is an urgent matter.”
“Yea, right! I know, you don`t give a
damn about me_” she said, assuming
antagonistic state one more time. Only
this time, she was really mad. “But I
always came crawling back to you like a
child. I`m an idiot!” she was even wilder
now.
“So why are you here now? What do you
want from me? Are you planning to leave
me again after you used me?”
“We want your help. Please let`s save
him.”
“We must be invisible for you, right?”
Jangida said stretching his hand to shake
her.
“Oh!” she said surprised. She took his
hand and gave him a firm shake. “Doctor
Jangida, you look different… I didn`t
recognize you.”
“And he is engineer Gera.” Jangida said
introducing her to the third man. She
thought how handsome he is. Anyway, she
gave the young man her usual plain and
uninteresting smile. Nobody except her
knew the reason behind her sarcastic
smile. But there was a trace of sadness on
her face that could give her away for a
careful observer. It was a look that said
her smile wasn`t genuine, that it wasn`t
really hers.
Now looking at Gera, she recalled
someone she loved as a young girl. She
thought he looked just like him. Though
she tried, her eyes were reluctant to look
away from his. For a moment that seemed
like eternity to her, she felt her heart
flutter. Her unexpected reaction made the
three men a bit uneasy. That feeling was
strange for her too.
At last, she managed to tell him her name.
“Meroda…!” she said, as their hands
touched.
“I`m happy to meet you.”
“Gera…” he said, a little confused.
She broke the momentary weird
atmosphere in the room by saying, “How
about something to drink? Tell me your
preferences, I`ve everything in the house.”
She started towards the bar built along
one wall of the living room.
“For me water_” Mirage replied first.
“Water for me too_,” Jangida said.
She brought everything back within
seconds. She was having a Martini as an
unconscious choice. It seemed natural for
her to have what Gera was having.
“So,” she said pouring a glass of Martini
for Gera looking at him but addressing all
three of them. “Are you telling me that
you came to me, to save the life of
engineer Shagiz? That means you haven`t
heard the news!”
“What news?” Mirage demanded after
gulping in much of the content from his
bottled water.
“Haven`t you heard that scientist
engineer Shagiz is now in North Austin
medical centre, after an accident? He
slipped and fell while playing a basket ball
game, with his children in Texas, where he
was visiting his family to celebrate the
Ethiopian x-Mass with them.” she said,
not pausing for a moment as though she
didn`t want them to ask her any
questions. Then she took a deep breath.
“We heard that.” Mirage answered.
“Everyone heard it. We were at the
Austin medical centre one hour ago.
Doctor Jangida used to have a job in the
centre. He`d to be re-employed but he
was rejected. Therefore we`re unable to
put the engineer`s treatment under our
supervision. What`s worse, the doctor
who is assigned to perform the crucial
brain surgery is Luce Khan. The
murderer … I`ve worked with him in
L.A. I knew him well. He was the lead
doctor who`d been conducting engineer
Shagiz`s continuous heart surgery.”
Mirage rolled his eyes upon her face as if
he wanted something from her.
“So, what do you want me to do now?”
she asked them with a high-pitched voice
which created an impression that she
doesn`t want any part to play in this.
“You see Meroda!?” Jangida carefully
diverted her attention, with a soft
persuasive tone and choosing his words.
“Three years ago I was given the chance
to work with doctor Luce Khan in Austin
medical centre. I was well acquainted with
him. I never had any recollection of a
patient who`d walked out alive after
doctor Luce Khan operated on him or
her. But, don`t think for a moment that,
his lack of talent or inefficiency counted
for those unsuccessful surgeries
performed by him. His patients are
targets already chosen for him by a
superior body. The doctor is someone
who is bald and greedy enough to work
for many secret groups without their
knowledge. He works for the C.I.A. but
the C.I.A doesn`t have any idea about the
fact that he also worked for Moss ad as
the same time. In other words, he is a
double agent working by himself. I can
give you enough evidence to prove this to
you - audio and video evidence.
You can see why we thought he will no
doubt open Shagiz`s head and throw his
brains away to dogs. That is one of the
reasons, why it was decided to perform
the drama on Shagiz, right here in Texas.
I would be damned if the engineer gets
treatment at Austin by doctor Luce Khan
and walks out alive. Imagine! How
someone who fell during a basketball
game could get an injury, which required
a brain surgery? Where in the world have
you ever heard such crap? How high was
he jumping?” Jangida paused for a
moment to sweep away some of the sweat
that had formed tiny dews on his nose.
Engineer Gera used the time gap to
produce a pen and a piece of paper out
of his pocket and begun drawing a figure
that looked like a graph.
“You see?” Gera told them. “If I`m
correct, which I think I am, the
gravitational acceleration in America is
somewhere around 9.8 meters per Second
Square…or did the C.I.A calculate a
different value for Texas? Imagine how
high he must rise up in air to inflict such
a powerful damage that required a major
brain surgery. Of course, he might have
broken an arm or a wrist. But definitely
not a crushed skull, like he was in some
kind of plane crush.” He shook his head
and kept silent after making his point.

North Austin Medical Centre was as

usual packed with hectic nurses and
doctors on their routine duties. The
engineer`s close friends and family moved
around or sat with an expression of
concern and thoughtfulness, waiting
patiently and hoping for the best. The
patient lay unconscious on an emergency
stretcher with doctors and nurses all
around him, trying to perform their life
saving jobs in coordination. They talked
to each other from behind their covered
lips, with a common look in their eyes.
Yes, they were concerned.
One of them, doctor Luck Khan
relentlessly bombarded the rest with
instructions that were to be executed
immediately. His mind was torn apart
between the assignments he was given
from two separate groups. He was unable
to decide which one to chose.

“Anyway this is not the time to discuss

the matter anymore. We`ve to quickly go
back to Texas. Whatever the sacrifice may
be, we must save him” doctor Mirage said
and sprung to his feet.
“Excluding me…” Meroda said. “I will
not sacrifice myself anymore for anyone
or anything. People should know what
they can or can`t do, before trying to do
it. You are getting yourself into
something very complex that you can`t
get away with. This is America you`re
under its jurisdiction and the CIA`s
watchful eyes. Forget about taking away
the engineer with you. You don`t even
have the right to take a single strand of
his hair. America defends any of its
common citizens with all its power.
Imagine how hard it may retaliate for a
world famous space scientist who`d spent
his life working to take it to the limits of
civilization on earth. Are you listening to
me? You had better go back to where you
came from. Leave everything to the
convincingly righteous. I`ve no more help
or advise to give you.” She paused.
“America is ready to go into any kind of
war for the sake of this man. It is
impossible to take this man away from
the tight grip of America, even if all the
remaining nations of the world came as
one against America in a third world war.
Countries like Japan, China, North
Korea, Israel, Russia, Iran, Syria and even
India-on a mission to launch its first
shuttle to space in the near future-all
these countries have unsuccessfully tried
to make this man work for them. Do you
think you can succeed where they have
failed? If you think so, then it would be
the biggest joke of the century unless you
have a death wish or unless you`re sure
about a divine intervention through the
monastic Mirage here. On my part, I`m
not involving myself in this man`s
business. I am Meroda.” She said facing
them with a confrontational stance. “I
know exactly what I can and can`t do.”

Doctor Luce Khan`s hand was shaking as

he filled they syringe with insulin,
emptying the contents of the bottle.
“Oh my God…” he said sighing with
frustration.
“Who brought Pilate the water to wash
his hands clean of Christ`s blood? But no
one would do the same for me! They
would cut off my hands, rather. Oh! Poor
Pilate! Poor me!” he was almost hysterical.

Everyone in the room was silently

contemplating if there might be an
alternative. Their eyes were directed at the
floor.
“Your only task will be…” Mirage said
sliding closer to where she sat. “…
trapping doctor Luce Khan for us.”
For a few moments, she gazed into his
eyes. Oh! She wondered how much she`s
missed him.
“I love you, Mirage!” she whispered softly
into his ears, pleading him with her
beautiful brown eyes that seemed to have
descended down from the heavens.
“Me too...” he replied. The exact words
wouldn`t come out right. He felt there
was something inside him. However, he
couldn`t for once overcome his inner
most being. What`s worse, he
remembered Zipporah whenever he was
with this woman. He imagined that
Zipporah was talking to him possessing
Medora`s body. Hehad to keep reminding
himself that she wasn`t really her.
“But, I don`t want you to involve me in
something you can`t handle, just because
I love you. I`m destined to love you only,
not get your love back. I don`t want you
to love me in return for my favor. Love is
not something you owe. Ok, if we agreed
to analyze the issue from the point of
view of your country, then even Shagiz is
not worthy of Ethiopia. If it weren`t for
you, I have nothing but disdain for this
country called Ethiopia. I know how I
was raised. That country was where my
mom`s body was sold for cheap
prostitution. Tell me, what is there to love
about Ethiopia! It`s parasites? It`s fleas?
It`s diseases? It`s leaders? Tell me which
of its qualities made you fall in love with
it?”
“Ethiopia`s fate wouldn`t have
necessarily beone of destitution and
hunger, we are the reasons for its hunger
and its parasites!” engineer Gera
interjected somewhat emotionally
defensive.
“Any way,” Meroda went on. “I`ve no
reason to be patriotic about that country.
Therefore, I will have no drop of sweat
or drop of blood to shed for the sake of
Ethiopia. “She came close to him inches
away from his face. “Mirage … I beg you
to forgive me because I can`t help you.
Even if I can, you`re too late now. You
can be sure about the enormous attention
the engineer is getting from around the
globe. A thousand and one eyes are fixed
on him right at this moment. All the
major intelligence agencies of the world,
including the Ethiopian secret service
have their eyes on this man. At this hour,
it is foolish to doubt that North Austin
Medical Centre is swarming with these
powerful agents. The fact that, you came
to me at a time when the entire world
wanted to own this man clearly shows
that, you`ve absolutely no chance at all.”
That was it.
“Let`s move.”
Doctor Mirage said scrambled to his feet
in rage. “You know…no one in Ethiopia
ever escaped the wrath of hunger. We
were all raised in despair. What amazes
me… is that, Ethiopia still existed in spite
of its so many enemies inside and outside
its territory. Ethiopia`s survival through
time by itself is a great achievement to
the generations of this day. Imagine if we
would be able to rebuild the country, had
it been completely annihilated like Israel
was once. So is it logical to have a grudge
against this country, which has managed
to stand independently against all odds?
Meroda …yes I know, there is a solution
to every problem here…in America. But,
in Ethiopia there is some other problem
for every problem. That will not be for
long. Don`t think the time when Ethiopia
flourishes will be far. India, a country we
used to call poor only yesterday, has now
succeeded building its own space research
centre. Think about it …if Shagiz came
to Ethiopia and trained a hundred people,
would that be something trivial a change?
The country is by no means resource
poor except for trained work force
resources. Believe me; Ethiopia`s
resurrection shall not be far. The day will
come for launching space shuttles from
Ethiopia`s own launch pads, from its own
space research centre. There is no dream
that can`t be made a reality though it may
take some time! Do you know ants can
cross a river chained as one, while the
waves flip and shook them. We shall not
falter nor retreat about Ethiopia. Until
the last drop of blood…” he left the
room, slammed the door behind him.
Doctor Jangida and engineer Gera
followed him.
Doctor Luce Khan looked at his patient
in a haze. He was breathing heavily.
“What are you waiting for?” the voice the
tiny earpiece thundered. It seemed to him
this one really damaged his eardrum. “Do
it right now!”
He looked up to the camera unnoticeably
placed in the operating room. He nodded
to the camera. He knew they were
watching. Then he took the syringe out of
his pocket and turned to the patient in a
state of determined cruelty. Since he
ordered everyone to leave, there was no
one to watch him close enough to see
what he`ll be doing. He knew this was the
right time. He approached the engineer.
His hand holding the syringe was shaking.
As the three of them headed towards the
D-33 parked inside Medora`s garage, they
heard her apartment door open. All
turned their heads to the direction. After
all Meroda was coming with them.
She saw Mirage`s white teeth spark in the
light as he gave her his sweetest smile.
“I would even go to hell for you.” She
said, following them into the small craft.
She had changed into black combat
overalls that left no doubt about her,
being the perfect soldier. He took her by
the hand and pulled her close to his side,
still smiling at her.
Engineer Gera drove the swift D-33
along the highways of New York until
they reached the out skirts of the city.
When he was sure they were on a
deserted road, he pressed some keys on
the side of the steering wheel and the
vehicle`s sides opened to make way for
two wings that enabled it to go airborne.
Slowly, the object - that had now become
an aircraft - began to rise up into the air.
Moments later, it was speeding away.
Meroda slowly turned to Mirage, her eyes
and mouth wide open in disbelief.
“Do you believe me now?” Mirage told
her. “I know you wouldn`t, if you only
heard about it. But, you also have the
right not to believe your eyes. We`re not
working so that people would believe us.
We are working because we believe.
We believe men are created with their
heads larger than all other organs, because
they can do something with it.”
“I can`t believe this, this plane is a
miracle.” She said with an unabated
astonishment.
“You better fasten your sit belts tight. We
are almost in Austin.” Engineer Gera
commanded maneuvering the aircraft at
high speed. “We`ll be landing on a rough
part of the country side road.”
He landed on a gravel paved side road
without much effort. Soon as he pushed a
combination of keys, the aircraft retracted
its wings and became a vehicle once again.
He touched another set of keys to modify
its plate number match with the towns, to
avoid possible suspicion.
After the transformation was complete,
he drove the D33 into the main high way
along the direction of Austin.
“Was it really made in Ethiopia?” Meroda
asked, her amazement was shaping itself
into pride.
“…If I told you that it was, you would
think it is a lie. And …if I told you that it
wasn`t you would think it is true.” Mirage
replied laughing.
Gera too started laughing at the
weirdness of Mirage`s answer. As he
turned around his eyes met Meroda`s for
a moment. She felt a strong wave of
burning flames originated out of him
penetrating her heart. This can`t be, she
thought. What a faint heart do I have? For
how many of them can I keep on losing it? How
handsome! But, I think he is the one I dreamed
of when I was a child… She held on
Mirage`s arm tightly, as if she wanted to
borrow the power to slow down her heart
beat. But her eyes were still fixed on the
nape of Gera`s neck - all she could see of
him at the moment.
CHAPTER 18
 SEPTEMBRE 27, 9:05

NORTH AUSTIN MEDICAL

CENTRE

TEXAS, USA

In the famous North Austin Medical

Centre, a hectic atmosphere reigned.
Doctors move up and down the corridors
wearing their white gowns seemingly
unheeding to anything except their
immediate tasks. Men and women nurses
fell in their bosses moods. Among the
moving mass were technicians and
assistant personnel. Together creating a
sense of emergency. The operating rooms
were all full of doctors and nurses on a
mission. Cries of agony and pain could
be heard from the emergency room -a
secluded partition of hell.
From the doctor`s locker room, a man in
a white gown came out and walked in
hurried steps along the corridor. As soon
as he arrived at an operating room on his
right, he barged in flinging the door open.
Doctor Luke Khan quickly turned his
head towards the man who just came in.
“Oh...Doctor Jangida…it`s been a long
time. Doctor Luke Khan exclaimed in a
high-toned voice.
His very fast way of talking added with
the screeching tone, seemed to come out
of a machine. Almost inhuman. He
didn`t mind to pass on his surgical task to
his colleagues. He shifted his green
mouth cover away from his mouth with a
glove covered hand and said, “Welcome
anyway doctor!” putting in his pocket the
syringe he was holding with one hand.
“Thank you doctor Luck Khan.” Replied
doctor Jangida stepping closer to the dark
colored patient with electric wires
attached to all over his head lying down
on an operating table.
“How is your patient?” he asked him. “Is
he badly hurt?”
“Yes he was very badly hurt. We couldn`t
stop the bleeding completely even after
the surgery. And as I am leading the
medical team performing the surgery, I`m
completely responsible for the patient`s
condition.” doctor Luke Khan answered
with a sigh. He then disconnected the
small radio transmitter attached to his ear
and quickly switched off the follow up
camera.
Jangida came close to his ears and said
“Why don`t you let me complete the
surgery?”
“What?” said doctor Luke Khan looking
at him in despise.
He came even closer, “I can stop the
hemorrhage in just a few minutes.” He
said with an effort to convince him. “Let
me lend you a hand.”
“…Are you telling me that you`re better
than me?!” doctor Luke`s ego sprung up,
producing an emotion of some kind that
flushed his white skin.
“…No! Not at all. You completely
misunderstood me. To offer my help
can`t mean anything about your
incapacity. Haven`t we ever worked as
one? Haven`t we helped each other? How
could you understand my words in any
other way?
What I said was completely different
from what you imagined. I may be able to
notice something you overlooked. What
is more, your patient is a very important
man. He is one of the greatest scientists
of our time.”
“Is there anyone unimportant, Dr.
Jangida?” he asked him still hurting
inside.
“No one in this world is unimportant.
Does saying that this man is important
mean everybody else is unimportant? Tell
me doctor.”
“Let me do my job, now. Stop bothering
me without a permit to my section!” said
doctor Luke Khan even angrier. “Or else
I`ll be forced to report your behavior to
the medical director. Leave now! You`re
making a huge mistake. Get out of here
before I call security. Leave now!” said
doctor Khan pointing towards the door.
His voice was getting very edgy by the
second. “Bastard!” he said to himself.
“Ok, I`ll leave. But, don`t think I have no
idea of what is being done. Have you
forgotten what we`ve done before? Do
you remember, Doctor Luke?” said
Jangida walking up and down the room
keeping his eyes on the floor. “Do you
deny the fact that you`ve illegally
removed organs from ten deceased
patients including a heart from a famous
senator? You are guilty of organs theft of
the highest degree including murder in
cold blood. Do you know that?”
“What are you talking about?” doctor
Luke answered. He was now feeling the
blood rush to his face again.
“Just as you took the liberty to put the
lives of those patients in your hands, I
took the liberty of keeping a video tape in
my hands a video tape that showed
recordings of you doing the unlawful
acts. Now I can leave you!”
Doctor Jangida started to the door,
praying that Meroda`s plan would work.
“What!” Luke called him from behind,
just a few inches off the door. “I think
we`ve to talk.”
“I know the whole scam behind this
operation of which you`re involved up to
your head. The C.I.A or Mossad can`t
cover up your mess. In case you are
planning to take care of me, right here, I
made sure to inform my backups before I
came to you. I thought you should know
that. However, if you really want to
negotiate we can have a chance to
transform every mess into a better
situation.The only thing of value, you can
get out of the two intelligence agencies is
money. I mean, as far as I know. And
money is something negotiable.” Doctor
Jangida said the last sentence with a shrug
of his shoulders. He waited silently.
“Ok,” Doctor Luke said with a sigh of
submission. “Let`s negotiate.”
“You`re not going to negotiate with
me.Follow my instructions. Go straight to
the bath room number-3 in the women`s
section. When you reach the entrance,
speak the word `Der` before you get in. It
is a code. Two women are waiting for you
inside. They will open the door for you.”
Doctor Luke left the room without a
word and with quick steps, walked
straight to the women`s toilet number-3.
At the door, he stopped, paused and
spoke in a quiet unsure voice. “Der_”
The door opened partially to let him in.
Two people – a man and a woman-were
standing in the room wearing white
gowns.
Meroda shoved a gun with a silencer
under his neck, while Mirage closed the
door from inside.
Doctor Luce Khan opened his mouth
wanting to speak, but Meroda placed a
finger on his lips and made a hissing
sound to hush him up.
“Only we`re privilegedtosay what our
demand will be for the negotiation. Do
you agree?” she asked him with an
expression of determination on her face.
He agreed, by nodding his head straining
against the force of the gun`s barrel
under his neck. She searched his pockets
and took whatever kinds of tools he can
use as a weapon, including the syringe
half filled with anesthetic fluid.
“First`, you`ll hand over the engineer to
us…alive! Second…you must officially
pronounce the engineer dead and you`ll
give him a shot of this,” she produced a
syringe full of a greenish fluid. “This is to
keep him as good as dead for anyone who
wanted to witness his death. Twenty
seconds after this fluid gets in his system,
his body will enter a state of deep
hibernation impossible or very difficult to
differentiate from a clinically dead state.
He`ll stay in that highly unconscious state
until no one will be asking for a proof
anymore. Later, you`ll have to put him in
a specially designed coffin we`ll be
smuggling into the morgue. The coffin
has a built in oxygen and glucose supply
that you`ll have to attach with the body.
His body must be provided with oxygen
and glucose in order to maintain its
proper functions when he regained
consciousness. Then you must strap him
to the coffin with the belts attached inside
it, in case he wakes up in the coffin and
tried to move. Three...No one must know
this secret. Four...There are micro cameras
attached to the coffin from the inside as
well as the outside. So we`ll be watching
your every move live. Five… Take care
not to place the body in another coffin
provided by his family! Six...After his
funeral is over and everybody has left,
you`ll be waiting for us at the gate of this
medical centre to retrieve the video tapes
and four million dollars in cash. There is
also a powerful bomb placed at your
residence, waiting to be detonated if you
showed any sign of reluctance in
executing your mission exactly as I told
you now. That too will be disengaged. Do
you agree?” she said in a firm voice.
“I do.” Luce answered. “But I want the
original and all copies of the video.” He
paused and went on with a tone that
betrayed his frustration. “…please, don`t
hurt my family…the bomb. Don`t do it,
please. I will do everything right.”
“Leave that to us. But you must come up
with a flawless performance. You must
put on a show that can convince even
Holly wood. Now you can start your
mission.” She gave him the syringe and
pointed her chin in the direction of the
door to show him out.
Doctor Luce Khan hurried away to the
operating room.
After the drama was over, Meroda turned
to Mirage and said, “Look at me good!”
Mirage looked at her with a smile to let
her know that he was her fan.
“What I need is love, not wisdom and
smartness.” She told him boasting.
“I never doubted you.” Mirage replied. “I
chose the right person.” He was proud of
her.
“But you never chose me for love. Only
for my smartness. I sometimes wonder
you`ve done some of the love potion
thing you learnt as a child in the
monastery. Why don`t you tell me the
truth if you did it?”
“You talk like you know it`s real!” he said
mockingly. “Do you think modern women
need a love potion to fall for a man? No,
they are naturally infatuated. We men
don`t have to put a spell on the girls we
want any more. If this love potion crap is
real, it`s the girls who would want to use
it on men, not the other way round.
We`re the ones who should suspect you
of putting us under a spell. Today was the
funniest day if there was enough energy
in me to laugh it off.”
“Ok at least I deserve a real passionate
kiss from you.” Meroda said, coming
closer to him and stood inches from him.
She sent her eyes to the ceiling in a
dreamy state. Her pupils disappeared up
under her eyelids. She put her arms
around his neck still holding the gun in
one hand. He felt a wave of desire bade
him to give in to the temptation.
She came even closer allowing her body
to lean on his. He heard their heartbeats
synchronize, beating, drumming as one.
Her lips parted. It was a perfect moment
when anything is possible.
A sound was coming from the door, or
was it their ears! There was a knock at the
door.
“Der!” Jangida used the code word from
outside. “Let`s move out!”
CHAPTER 19
On the fourth day after Shagiz went
through his head surgery he was
pronounced dead. The news spread like
wild fire around the world. His death
brought a wave of sadness on all who
knew him. More than and beyond his
family, his nation also mourned. For, both
have believed in him. He was their hope.
He died just as his name was beginning to
receive some recognition and fame all
around Ethiopia. It was shocking for all
who`ve known Shagiz, because they had
only a brief encounter with him before
they missed him as the morning dew.
His demise came as a surprise at a time
when he was giving a lot of attention to
Africa and especially to Ethiopia – his
country labeled by the world as the
economically incapable. In one of his
recent speeches he gave to his nation he`d
said, “Assisting African people get a
rightful part of their share has been a
long-standing dream of mine. The
outstanding problem of developing
countries-particularly African countries -
is the unavailability of the proper
technology. It is possible to channel our
country`s national treasure and latent
resources to the advantages of our
nation, making use of the scientific
knowledge the world has achieved. On
my part, I`ve the willingness, the desire
and the preparedness to provide this
knowledge. Until this time, I was able to
produce many accomplishments as a
leading space scientist in America and in
Europe. I believe that, I will succeed in
showing the priceless importance of
space technology to bring about a fast
development in Ethiopia, as much as I
have succeeded in Europe. We`ve
completed all preparations that will
enable us to go through an importantand
researched,modern technological
transformation.”
That was why the news about his death
came as an unacceptable shock to many
that even tears wouldn`t make them get
over it. It came at a time when he gave
away all his plans to change his people.
The “coincidence” has forced others to
blame opposing groups antagonistic to
the beliefs of the engineer. There were
many such groups and countries under
suspicion for the engineer`s death.
In spite of this, since none of them had
any proofs, they had to reluctantly reject
the ‘fell while playing basketball and died when
he lost a lot of blood during a brain surgery.’
news, as crap.
Some suspected that he was killed with a
kind of laser gun that left no trace of
evidence in his body. Many blamed the
Ethiopian government as responsible.
Others say that the engineer knew that he
would die or else he is not at all dead.
Their evidence was a video CD of a
speech he made prior to the incident and
was distributed around the country, on
which he was heard saying, “Even if
something unfortunate should happen to
us, you go and change your country.”
Following the engineer`s death
newspapers around the world published
the news about him in different
languages. The electronic presses of the
web, made the news available around the
world in the speed of light…But for
those who desperately tried to unravel the
real cause of his death, this news had
nothing to offer.
Engineer Shagiz, who worked for NASA
as chief of spacecraft and satellite
systems engineer and scientist, died at
1:00 am on January 13, 2006 four days
after he underwent surgery at North
Austin medical centre in Austin, Texas.
The scientist, a long time resident of
California, traveled to Austin to visit his
extended family over the Ethiopian
Christmas holiday on January 7, 2006 he
was having fun with his children when he
fell and hurt himself. According to family
and friends who were on his side when he
passed away, a team of neurosurgeons
were unable to stop the internal brain
hemorrhoid.” said the African Tribune on a
detailed story about the scientist.
On separate news, the famous newspaper,
which focused on the lives of the greatest
scientists of our world “The scientist”,
published the following story about him.
“Engineer Shagiz passed away at the age
of 58 on 13 January 2006 in the united
states. Apart from his prestigious status as
an aerospace scientist, he was also widely
known for his efforts to bring about
political change in Ethiopia. He publicly
denounced the regime in Ethiopia and its
atrocious actions and policies. Even
though he was ambitious about using his
knowledge, experience and high status to
help his homeland Ethiopia, he repeatedly
said he was not made welcome by the
regime. In 2002, he founded the political
party, The Ethiopia National United
Front, to help overthrow the unpopular
regime and to bring about a stable and
democratic political system. He was a
passionate believer in Ethiopia who
always wanted to utilize his expertise to
change things for the better to the
average Ethiopian. Despite his sudden
and early departure, he will continue to
be a remarkable role model for many
generations of Ethiopia as well as for
many youth of the world. The tales of his
achievements in the field of aerospace
will inspire many would-be-Ethiopian-
scientists.”
Doctor Luce Khan smiled as he was
reading the local newspaper in his car
parked outside the funeral grounds where
the services were being conducted. The
story read -
“The former NASA chief of spacecraft
and satellite systems engineer and
Ethiopian patriots, scientist Shagiz died
an hour past midnight on January 13,
2006 four days after he underwent
surgery at North Austin Medical Centre
in Austin, Texas.
In 1978, he invented two aerospace
mechanisms and patented under NASA`s
new technologies program while working
with other NASA scientists and the
Apollo astronaut Buzz Aldine, second
man to walk on the moon. In several
advanced technology applications
research efforts on Mars missions, Shagiz
lead the Martin Marietta`s research team
and produced outstanding scientific
results.
Shagiz joined Rockwell Informational
(builder of the space shuttleOrbiter),
Space Systems Division in 1986. He
becomes a principal investigator and
chief research engineer for several
advanced space systems projects at
Rockwell. He had a long dispute with his
former American Jewish wife because of
his children. He over saw the
development of advanced technologies
for kinetic energy weapons systems. He
was also a program manager for a lunar
Mars-rover research and development
effort in support of NASA`s future
exploration missions.
He then turned his attention to Africa
and his beloved Ethiopia hoping to
introduce and advance technology based
development. Ethiopia as well as the
whole world has missed one great man on
earth. He will be truly missed.”
The news streaming from the newspapers
and the web around the world was
powerful enough to convince him against
what he knew to be true that the scientist
is still alive. Anyone could imagine the
effects the press may bring upon media-
believing ordinary men and women. Only
the Ethiopia media remained indifferent
to the news. However, the few who
managed to retrieve the news from the
web condemned the media. What is
wrong with announcing his death to us?
Is it so hard for them to broadcast very
sad news about someone they used to
label as an enemy?
Doctor Luce Khan initiated
communication with Mossad`s head
quarters and after feeding them the info
about the undead body of engineer
Shagiz inside the mysterious coffin, he
made a deal to hand them the
unconscious body of the engineer that
received a constant supply of oxygen and
nutrients-while in the coffin. All this
happened before the procession to the
funeral grounds begun.
Luce Khan folded the newspaper he`d
been reading and placed it by his side
inside the car. Then he set his laptop on
his lap and begun pressing keys to check
if the camera he had attached inside the
coffin following the instructions given to
him from Mossad head quarters-made a
connection and started transmitting
signals to his lap top.
“Yes!” he exclaimed as he looked at the
red light as a point on a map on his
screen. That means the GPS tracking
device inside the camera was activated,
pointing him to the exact present location
of the coffin. He pressed some other keys
to switch to camera view. On the screen,
an infrared view of a lying body came in a
flash. He switched to night vision to have
a look at the inside of the coffin more
clearly.
It was filled with many electronic
equipment and wires. Most were attached
to the body. An oxygen supply duct on
his nostrils and glucose and vitamins
supply ducts were attached to his arm.
The body was tightly strapped with the
coffin by wide belts. His skull was
wearing a metallic cap from which wires
were seen connected on the surface.
Though he couldn`t look at it on the
screen, he knew the coffin`s outer cover
was made of a bullet proof material,
intended for maximized security.
Doctor Luce Khan smiled again as he
looked at the body inside it, an
electronically sustained life.
“May be you`re now listening to your life
story. I bet it is as good as a bestselling
novel. I hope you like it. You`re the only
man in our world, who had witnessed his
funeral and heard the cries of those who
were sad for him.
And I would like to thank you for making
me rich. Do you think your Jewish-
American ex-wife looked as attractive
when she cried? How about your three
children she has taken away from you?
Thank you again for making my day at the
last hour. I need only to wait patiently
until your funeral ended so that I can
receive forty million dollars in cash from
your people. And tonight the Mossad will
add another fifty six million on my
account. Thanks, you living carcass! Rest
in peace! No more surgery for me.” He
whispered softly in a mocking air looking
at the computer screen.
He looked up and turned to his side
startled, as he heard a knock on his
window. A woman with a tanned skin was
holding up a suitcase in one hand and a
Mossad agent ID in the other, for him to
see.
Mossad headquarters had notified him to
meet this woman with an e-mail including
her name and photograph. He
crosschecked it with the name and photo
on her ID, before he opened the door.
Her name was ZIPPORAHFINHASS, an
agent for Mossad.
It was really her. He opened the door. She
handed him the suitcase without saying a
word.
He snapped the suitcase open and quickly
looked inside. So many “IN GOD WE
TRUST” and met his eyes.
They were stacked neatly in bundles.
“We trust in gold too.” He said and
smiled.
“We trust in God and in gold.”
He kept his part of the deal by handing
her the laptop that can monitor the inside
of the coffin. As he started the engine
and quietly drove away, the funeral had
ended and mourners were starting to
leave.
Doctor Luce Khan then drove straight to
the North Austin Medical Centre and
parked at the gate to keep his part of the
deal with Doctor Mirage and the others.
But even though he waited until dark
there was no sign of them.
“Traitors! They`ve betrayed me.” He said
to himself aloud. “That is okay…I know
what to do with them.”
Just then, a black automobile came
speeding and parked at his side. Meroda
came out carrying a huge leather bag
went back to her car and drove away as
fast as she arrived.
He quickly opened the bag. There was no
money inside except for a piece of paper
with something written on it.
You will get the video of you doing that
terrifying crime as well as your acts of
organ-theft also the dismantling of the
bomb set in your residence, when we have
everything in our hands. You will also get
paid then only.
After he read it, he spat on the piece of
paper in anger. When that wouldn`t help
to abate his fury, he shred it to smaller
pieces using his teeth. That didn`t help
either. He banged the steering-wheel with
his first and screeched his car`s tires for a
sprint drive.
“Son of bitches!”
CHAPTER 20
The moment Der-33 touched down the
clearing in the stark darkness of the
graveyard, Meroda and Mirage jumped
out of it.
As they went closer to the freshly dug
grave to rest Shagiz`s body, they noticed
someone was still digging it. When the
man saw them walking in his direction, he
dropped the shovel he was working with
and held his hands high up into the air in
surrender.
Meroda took a few seconds to make sure
that the gravedigger was doctor Luce
Khan. Then she aimed her gun with a
silencer at its tip, at his head and took
several accurate shots at him. He fell face
down with his mouth open, as though he
was about to tell them something. Blood
splashed all over the grave he was
digging.
Doctor Jangida and engineer Gera
brought the flying object near to where
the coffin was lying. The four of them
carried the coffin into the Der-33.
They buried Doctor Luce`s body in the
grave he was digging and went abroad the
machine. Just at that moment when they
were all ready to leave, they heard the
sound of a chopper.
Armed Israelite soldiers climbed down
ropes at the exact spot of the engineer`s
grave and started digging. Engineer Gera
silently took the flying machine up.
A second later, the machinegun on board
the helicopter begun hailing a continuous
shower of bullets.
The soldiers must have seen them and
know the engineers body was no longer
there. Now they were tailing and shooting
at them from behind.
Zipporah sat at the rear seat of the
helicopter monitoring the activities on
the screen of her laptop connected
remotely with the coffin.
The reddish figure of a person lying
down could be clearly seen in the middle
of the screen. Around it, many types of
colored lights, graphs and numbers are
seen flickering. That was the information,
being sent directly from the infrared
camera and the sensors attached to the
engineer`s coffin.
They all didn`t seem to be bothered by
the helicopter`s attack from behind them.
Der-33 was following a spiral trajectory
that makes it a statistically improbable
target. But that didn`t mean it was
completely out of danger.
The helicopter persistently followed them
never ceasing to shoot whole rounds
along their direction. Its pilot must`ve
been one of the best; otherwise it
wouldn`t have been possible for any other
army chopper to keep up with the illusive
movements of Der-33. He was flying it to
its limits of efficiency.
After many miles of pursuing, one of the
passengers in Der-33 was shot. It was
Mirage. He cried in agony and fell on the
floor of the plane, as it was doing one of
its 360o moves that made its floor slant.
Mirage slid across to the tip of the open
door-way and out into the open air.
Instinctively he held on to the edge just
on time. He looked down, as a natural
human reaction of looking where he was
going. That was a wrong action, since it
created butterflies in his stomach. He was
beginning to look at all kinds of colors
around him.
Jangida jumped across the floor, keeping
his feet on the side of the seat for
leverage. He held Mirage by the wrist and
tried to pull him up as he lay face down
on the plane`s floor, still in a slanting
position. But he found it impossible to
pull the partly unconscious body of
Mirage hanging down from the plane and
swaying along with the movements of the
plane.
“Let go!” Mirage called with an effort.
“You move on, let go of me!”
He tried to take off his hand from
Jangida`s. But Jangida didn`t seem to
agree with his self sacrificial idea. He
held on to him even tighter. Now Meroda
was holding his legs from behind after
she tied up her waist with a rope attached
to the plane.
“What are you doing, Mirage!” She was
calling him, almost crying with
desperation.
“Hold on!”
Jangida managed to summon all his
strength to pull him up. The automatic
rounds from the helicopter`s
machinegun, kept on flying a few inches
away past Mirage`s hanging body.
They finally succeeded in pulling Mirage
up to the floor, and all three of them sat
there for a moment breathing heavily.
Meroda watched the helpless expression
on Mirage`s almost fainting face and was
filled with a sudden burst of revenge. She
took the specially designed long-range
automatic rifle from the back of the
coffin and started firing its whole round
on the helicopter.
CHAPTER 21
DAGA ESTEFAN MONASTERY

ETHIOPIA

The sophisticated Der-33 amphibian

plane changed into a submarine upon
reaching Bahir Dar and made its way
towards the underground research centre
carrying the dead body of Shagiz in the
specially made casket. Dertogada is
scientists watching her arrival with a
welcoming applause.
Soon, doctor Mirage was taken to the
hospital to get treatment for his wound.
Meroda and doctor Jangida carried the
coffin out of the D33 with the help of
other Dertogada stall. Emergency medical
staff wearing red gowns took the coffin
into the emergency room.
“You did a good job back there!” Meroda
said smiling Gera.
“You were amazing too!” replied Gera
with a smile that left her powerless with
its charm.
She couldn`t resist the urge to put her
arms around him. And she did.
Abba Jenberu approached Meroda.
“I`d like to thank you for everything
you`ve done for us.” He told her. “As a
rule women aren`t allowed on this island,
but you are now in a research institute
situated under it. So feel at ease. We`re
planning to have women scientists as part
of Dertogada`s personnel in the future.
Mirage has told me about you prior to
this time. We`ll be glad if you can work
with us. Our country needs am national
intelligence agency that is not liable to
change as governments change, and that
serves not only the ones on authority. You
know, take for example Mossad and C.I.A.
they`ve contributed a great deal to their
own countries even if they`ve done so
much injustice on other countries.
America and Israel wouldn`t have the
images they now have, if they were living
without their respective intelligence
agencies. These agencies will live on as
long as their parent counties exist. But
Ethiopia has had no official similar
agency, except for the cruel secret security
groups working for the benefits of
dictator regimes. That is why it has
become a country of no visions. So it
needs an intact organization that can
work towards the safety and the benefits
of Ethiopia. And that is why Dertogada
was established. Dertogada understand
that you`re a woman of value.”
“Let me think about it.” Meroda said.
“And I want to have a detail of the
organization. The CIA has used me. I
don`t want to get manipulated again by
some other secret agency. Give me some
time to think over your offer.”
“You take all the time you want. And
we`re ready to brief you about
everything. What you`ve done for us so
far is more than enough to choose you
for this honored purpose.” He assured
her.
The bullet wound on Mirage`s leg was
treated and his leg bandaged. He now
looked at Meroda from the stretcher he
was lying on.
“Thank you.” He said to her.
“Don`t mention it. I`ll do anything for
you.” She smiled at him.
“Is the coffin opened?” He asked eagerly.
“It is being opened now.”
“I`ve to see.” Mirage said starting to get
up. “Take me to him. I want to see
engineer Shagiz. Let me express my joy by
welcoming him. Take me to him please.”
They provided him with a cane, which he
used as a leverage to walk towards the
coffin limping. It was in the middle of
Dertogada personnel. It was open already.
He looked at the smiling faces of the
scientists in their red gown and other
Dertogada staff around the coffin, and he
too smiled. He knew all was well. He then
looked down into the open casket.
The helmet on his head was removed. It
had been transferring signals from his
brain. However, his head was still covered
with a bandage. Tubes used for supplying
oxygen, glucose and minerals, and wires
used for transmitting the activities of his
body were attached to different parts of
his body, that was firmly kept in place by
straps. The doctors carefully detached
every accessory on his body and placed
him on a stretcher. As they were pushing
the stretcher towards the recovery room
with Shagiz on, everyone was in standstill
mesmerized by the joy of success and the
magic of the moment. Shagiz had now
fully regained his consciousness and even
managed to wave his hand to the crowed
that applauded him victoriously.
CHAPTER 22
TEL-AVIV, ISRAEL
Zipporah once again stood in front of
the mirror inside the recovery surgical
room of a medical facility below the
headquarters of Mossad. She still
couldn`t completely take the identity of
the face she was looking at-her father`s.
It`s only been face week since she had a
new face through the miracles of plastic
surgery. She now had the exact face of
her father Abba Finhass. To achieve the
desired effect a delicate surgery was
performed that lasted more than fifteen
hours. Her face was kept covered for few
days and when it healed completely, she
was no longer Zipporah. She sometimes
felt disgust at the sight of her beard.
Even her voice was modified to match
her father`s, with a ting voice modulating
device attached to her vocal cord by
another minor Surgery.
She didn`t complain much about the
surgery. She was very confident about the
medical team that performed it. They had
told her, she would get her face back
when she delivered engineer Shagiz to
Israel. They were also confident about her
capabilities. Now she looked at her image
in the million and wondered how it was
possible for the Mossad to transform
anything into something different.
All that she was looking at now was the
result of a photograph of her father,
taken by Moss ad before he died on the
Sudanese boarder during operation
Moses. Out of Moss ad`s database Abba
Finhass`s photograph was found and
after his picture went through a tiresome
computerized modeling process, it was
made to replace her identity. His voice
was found in an audio archive recorded
from an interview he gave them back in
the Sudanese desert. Then a modulating
micro-chip was designed that generated
an additional sound frequency, to create
an exact pitch of her father`s voice
whenever she speaks.
That made her a carbon copy of her
father, at least above the neck, after the
successful surgery. She stood in front of
the mirror and remembered her father.
There was a trace of her feeling that
condemned her father for separating her
from Mirage - a reason for her
meaningless life she`ve had.
To make the disguise complete, she wore
a monks robe customary in the monastery
of Daga Estefan that her father used to
wear. Their plan was to make a breast
reduction to make her ample breasts
unnoticeable. But she rejected the idea
forcefully. She was sure that no one would
search her body. She strapped them
tightly to her chest and covered them
with a bulky under-garment. She was no
longer a woman but an old monk, for
anyone to see. She also carried a prayer
book and other trivial objects important
for a monk, tied on a leather belt that she
hanged on her shoulder. No one except
her shall ever doubt that this person was
the monk Abba Finhass.
She wasabsolutely sure that she was doing
the right thing when she decided to
search for the scientist, disappeared on
the mysterious island Daga Estefan. An
airplane that would take her into Ethiopia
was ready and waiting. And there awaits
her boat to take her to the island and
back to Bahir Dar. It was taken care of by
the agents already staying in Ethiopia.
Only a day remained for her to get into
the men`s only monastery disguised as
her father. She was about to defy the
island`s law-No Women Allowed. She felt
excited as she thought about it, because
she had a grudge with that law.
She wanted revenge against the law that
deprived her of the only love she ever
knew.
The petit lap-top with a direct satellite
communication capabilities and a
program to monitor the cameras inside
the engineer`s coffin, was placed in her
luggage along with the prayer book a
radio transmitter that can be reassembled
and her gun in her monk`s bag made out
of goat skin.
“Zipporah …”
She turned and saw the Moss ad director
walking towards her. She was carrying her
monk`s luggage.
“Yes Sir!” She replied.
“We knew from doctor Luce Khan`s
surgical report that, a small bomb was
implanted inside the engineer`s head
during the surgery. The bomb is time
controlled, so its countdown has already
stated. If we can get to him on time we
will remove the bomb with another
surgery, otherwise we`re doomed.
Remember that only we can do the
surgery to remove the bomb. Therefore,
you have to hurry up. We have about 360
hours, which should be around 15 days.
Engineer Shagiz must reach Tel Aviv
before these two weeks at the maximum. I
want you to give it all your attention and
energy! A back up team under your full
command shall be around your proximity
at all times waiting to move in at the first
signal from you, in case you needed an
extra hand.” With that, the colonel left
her in a pose of salutation.
“Yes Sir!” she confirmed form behind
him as he went towards his office. She
heard the plane`s engines roaring from
outside. It was a sound heralding the
beginning of her special mission.
Just then, doctor Anania came running
behind her. She turned to look at him. He
was holding something in his hands that
made her shiver with panic. Her instinct
told her this wasn`t to be a happy
farewell.
“What! What are you doing, you…! She
exclaimed incredulously.
He was holding her face, her identity, her
feminine beauty. He was carelessly
carrying a glass jar, inside of which lays
her natural face suspended in a sluggish
life sustaining fluid.
“You`re looking at you! See!?” he mocked
holding the jar in front of her. “This was
the face you were proud of. It`s beautiful!
Isn`t it? …now I can kiss it. I`ll kiss it
even if it couldn`t kiss me back.” He put
his lips on the lips of the piece of human
face with no expression and no eyes. He
kissed it long and hard, passionately. Then
he placed the jar on a nearby table and
took out his gun. He aimed at it,
expression on his face changed to one of
merciless revenge and cruelty.
“What the hell are you…” she wanted to
say please don`t do it, but the words just
wouldn`t come out. And she knew by the
looks in his eyes, that, whatever she might
say at the moment will make any
difference.
“This is the last time you will ever see
your face. Say good-bye to yourself, the
face you were proud of so much, to
share. Remember? You`ve me raped like a
woman.” He pulled the trigger. The glass
smashed as the bullet went through it. He
didn`t stop shooting. He emptied the
magazine on the piece of skin lying on
the table, counting his rounds until only
one bullet was left. The face was no more
a surgical choice. It had now many holes
in it.
Anania laughed out loud in satisfaction,
but the look o contempt and anger were
still in his eyes. He turned the tip of the
barrel onto his head and gave one last
long look to Zipporah before squeezing
the trigger. He fell down with a bang, his
blood painting everything around him an
array of crimson. His love for her had
finally cost him his life.
She darted towards him in fury. He was
dead already. She looked at her face lying
on the table battered beyond repair. She
took out her gun and shot the whole
round on Anania`s dead body. She wasn`t
satisfied.
She cried at last in despair, “My face…my
face!” she wouldn`t be satisfied even if
she was the one who took his life. Even if
she had the chance to kill him again and
again she would do it.
After the incident, that set off Mossad
headquarters on red alert, her coagents
and even the head tried their best to put
her in track again with reassuring words.
She was a woman of integrity and
purpose though. She immediately
reorganized herself and regained her
composure and tranquility of mind much
needed for the mission. Only she was fit
and ready for it. She decided to go. Before
the bomb detonated… she told herself.
CHAPTER 23
DAGA ESTEFAN ISALANDIC
MONASTERY

ETHIOPIA

Abba Finhass-the long time member of

Daga Estefan monastery-arrived at the
island. Fellow monks gave him a warm
welcome that made him feel at home. But
after the celebrations of his return were
over, something he never imagined
happened. At night fall, he was taken
prisoner, for reasons he had no idea
about. The briefings at Moss ad didn`t say
anything about his rebellious or
transgression behaviors he had while
living as a monk many years ago. Any way
he found himself locked by the legs with
a huge log inside the ugliest dark hut. He
spent the night unable to move, sit
comfortably or lie down.
The log was so heavy that he couldn`t
move it an inch. He was unable even to
take a little nap, there were unbelievably
huge spiders crawling up his body the
moment he lost focus. His body ached.
In the middle of the night Abba Jenberu
came to the little jail hut.
“Abba Finhass!” he called, holding a lamp
in the direction where Abba Finhass was
sitting uncomfortably.
“You are charged with four things. I`ll tell
you all three of your charges, except the
fourth one which you`re well aware of.
First,” Abba Jenberu seemed like a judge
in court of law. “You are guilty of
improperly using your art of jewelry to
reshape and sell the king`s gold crown,
which you managed to steal among the
artifacts you dug out from the cave with
me after falsely impersonating as my
friend. Second, you are charged with the
murder of Aleka Ayalew`s wife after you
drove him away from his home and
setting it on fire while his wife was still
inside. You did a lot of damage trying to
use force, when we could have regained
possession of the map wisely. Third, you
are charged with abducting your child,
not lawfully under your care, away from
the Entons Island where she was
supposed to be raised with care. You are
also charged with stealing the islands boat
you used to transport her.” Abba Jenberu
paused.
“Therefore, you are specifically charged
with treason, unlawfully acquiring
property and first degree murder. You
know exactly what the four the charge is.
I would have sentenced you to death, if I
weren`t a monk. Only God can save or
kill anyone. No mortal can sentence
anyone to death. I`m against execution
even if I thought you deserve it. I believe
punishment is better way to undo an
unlawful behavior.
There is nothing to straighten or undo
after death. Execution is a punishment
incapable of correcting a soul is wrongs,
destined for heaven or hell. It`s a great
crime to take away something; we`ve no
power to return. If my belief was
otherwise, I could have sentenced you to
death. Yes…Abba Finhass, your crime I
beyond imagination.” Abba Jenberu said,
and left him without waiting for his reply
in rage.
Abba Finhass felt a wave of panic going
through all over his body. He was
trembling in fear. Zipporah! She
unconsciously wore everything about her
father, including his crimes. She was
about to receive her father`s punishments,
because she volunteered to become him.
Zipporah regretted her actions. If she
were aware of her father`s crimes she
would never have sacrificed changing her
face with his.
Now she knew it was a wrong decision.
On that same night, Abba Diola came to
where Abba Finhass was kept prisoner.
“Finhass the blacksmith?” Abba Diola
said with a tone of irony in his voice.
“Don`t think I shall never forget you
even if you`re in disguise behind an iron
mask; forget about hiding yourself under
a monk`s hat. It`s no use wearing a
spiritual monk`s hat if your heart doesn`t
have anything spiritual?! Your real self
and who you pretend to be are way too
different.” He paused “Do you
remember? Of course you do! Do you
remember the time you tied up my
mother with her bed and burned her to
death? I`ll never forget it! I still can hear
my mother`s cries of pain and terror. My
mind still burned as I remembered the
flames burning through her body. It still
scorched me inside. The flames are still
eating through me, burning me! Yes,
burning me! B…RRRNN…ING ME!”
Diola said the word as though he wanted
every letter to create the effect of guilt on
Abba Finhass. “And you wear a hat for
the virtuous and the innocent, when
you`re carrying a great load of sin on
your head. You amaze me, Finhass the
black smith! Finhass the criminal!
Amazing! Too amazing!” he laughed long
and hard, a mocking giggle. His red gum
showed in the moonlight that escaped in
through the cracks on the old hit`s walls.
As Zipporah saw the inside of his mouth
as dark as a burrow`s hole, a sting of fear
went through her.
Abba Finhass was paralyzed with fear as
anyone could see. Zipporah was living
through this, supposed for her father. She
felt as if she stood the gates of hell.
“Abba Finhass the blacksmith! Finhass
the criminal! Finhass the monk!” Abba
Diola was saying again. “You came back
as a monk because you wanted to be a
saint! If you`re really became a saint, then
I swear I`m going to be the key holder to
heaven`s gate. Don`t think for a moment
that. I`ll leave the judgment of my
mother`s terrifying death to God. Hell`s
fire is not enough as a punishment for the
damage you`ve done and your sins. So I`ll
punish you myself. Yes…” his voice was
now very cruel. “First I`ll pull out your
nails one by one with pincers. Then I`ll
chop off every finger and toe. Then I`ll
make you eat your own flesh with you
gums after I pulled out all of your teeth.
I`ll save your eyes for last to make sure
you will be looking at what I`ll be doing
to you.
Oh yes! I forgot. I`ll cut off your penis
and make you eat it. And then I`ll burn
your body in fire until your belly bulged
like a frog`s. I don`t want you to die on
me while I`m doing all these things, so
I`ll find a way to keep you alive.
Don`t worry! I`ll not kill you very soon.”
Abba Diola left him swearing and
cursing.
Zipporah`s panic went higher and higher.
She tried to reassure herself that she
wasn`t really Abba Finhass. But Abba
Finhass was afraid, because he should be
afraid. And whether she liked it or not
she was at the moment Abba Finhass
himself.
So she was afraid. She knew she was
Zipporah, not Abba Finhass. But to give
in and tell them the truth would render
her mission unsuccessful.
CHAPTER 24
Eight days after the engineer`s body-
numb as a dead one-reached Dertogada, a
warm welcoming ceremony was held. All
Dertogada staff was already at their seats
inside the main conference hall. The hall
had an appearance of a performing
theater with a spacious stage behind the
long red curtains and a huge white screen.
The ceremony started as soon as the
curtains were pulled back, with a special
documentary featuring the various works
performed by engineer Shagiz. At the
same time, Abba Jenberu was seen
walking towards the podium by the side
of the stage.
As Abba Jenberu was making an arduous
preparation for the speech he was about
to stage, the video continued playing on
the big screen. It had enough time to
show two of the space probes he
designed at NASA, for which he was able
to receive patent rights, among Shagiz`s
undertakings in the fields of shuttle
design and launch. When Abba Jenberu
was at last ready, the video show paused
and he cleared his throat.
“Honorable members of Dertogada,
years ago when we began digging this
cave, we had no idea at all that it would
one day become a modern scientific
research centre and a place where the best
Ethiopian scientists came together. But
we dreamt of doing something good to
our country. I was lucky enough to see
our dream gradually came true. I now
realize that, the huge rocks I used to
consider a hindrance when I dug the cave,
were in reality teaching me something.
They were teaching me how to bring you-
who`ll be the rock-strong builders of
Ethiopia – together on these rocks.
I had a vision and that vision came true.
I`ve nothing more to wish for.
Dear children of Ethiopia, you had been
ripped off of your knowledge and your
energy in foreign countries against your
heart`s desire and reluctantly. I`ve not
even the least of doubts that you`ll hand
over a country you`ve technological built,
to the generation coming after you.” The
audience applauded. A sound that seemed
to shake the entire hail echoed.
“Dear scientists! You`ve gathered here
today from research and scientific centers
in Iraq, Iran, Russia, Japan, Israel, China,
Cuba, the United States and Egypt, giving
up the special privileges and the money
provided to you from these centers, just
because you wanted to help your country.
And today a fellow scientist has arrived in
Dertogada with similar intentions as
yours, but in a very complicated way a bit
different from the rest of you. He`d been
importing modern and sophisticated
equipment and machinery to Dertogada
out of his own pocket. He has cooperated
with you at every endeavor to help built
his country.
Put your hands together to the honorable
NASA man, Engineer Shagiz Ejegu.” He
pointed to someone making his way
towards the podium.
The applause died away and the man on
the stage started speaking. “Until today I
wasn`t sure if I would escape from the
jaws of death to now stand In front of
you.” he said with a joyful smile.
“What…you did to save my life is
pushing me to say something now. I feel, I
don`t have to lie anymore. I am ready to
accept all the consequences by telling you
the truth.” He looked down.
As the audience noticed the sadness upon
his face, all were eager to listen to what he
was going to say next.
“I`m not engineer Shagiz.” He gave it to
them and looked down again. Shear panic
and confusion swept across the hall.
Everyone looked at each other unsure
about what was really going on.
“So, who are you?” doctor Mirage
climbed up the stage leaning on his cane.
“I …” his voice was muffled with a lump
in his throat.
“I…I`m only a nobody. I went to the
states after going through a hard time
finding a job in Ethiopia. I`m not at all a
famous scientist.” He went on after
wiping away the sweat from his forehead.
“On my fifth year living in America, the
CIA recruited me. After I went through a
large-scale training program, my face was
surgically changed so that I looked like
Shagiz. Everything about me including
my voice was made exactly alike him. I
spent six years studying his life history,
his psychology and his family and friends
so that I could imitate him. In 1998 E.C
the CIA decided to murder me and
announce him dead to the world,
following the engineer`s involvement in
politics of his own country.
Many were pursuing to kill him. So in the
eve of Christmas, I went to Texas to
spend the Ethiopian holiday with his
family. I was on a mission to deliberately
fall down while I played basketball with
his children. They thought I was their
father. According to the plan, I was taken
to North Austin medical centre after I
collapsed n the basketball court. I made a
deal with them before the plastic surgery
that they would pay my family a large sum
of money n return for my life. They`d
promised to kill me painlessly… and then
you came and saved my life. Oh God!
Who could have tried to save me!? I`m
alive!
I`ve escaped death! You saved me. Oh!
How can I… how can I believe this? I`m
saved!...” he was out of control with joy.
He became like a child who was given a
new toy.

CHAPTER 25
In the complete darkness of the night,
they climbed up the walled compound of
the storeroom and jumped down inside in
an unlawful silence. They found the store
keeper`s room with wide open door. They
can clearly see the storekeeper by the light
from the altar in his room. He was deeply
absorbed reading a huge Berana book,
he`d spread across his lap.
Diola and Zipporah were watching every
moves of the guard monk hidden in the
shadows.
“I told you Zipporah!” Diola told her.
“And I told you not to call my name or
address me as a woman. Now I`ll tell you
again. You can call me only Abba Finhass,
not Zipporah. I am Abba Finhass, can`t
you see?”
“Ok Abba Finhass. I told you. Can you
see the bunch of keys the monk is
holding? Don`t you think those keys are a
lot more than the doors in this whole
monastery? That means the monk…” he
went silent and started to watch the monk
with scrutiny.
The monk was up and striping the
crimson carpets off the floor and opening
a basement door with a curved key
shaped like a sickle. He went down the
hole. As soon as Abba Finhass saw the
monk disappear beneath the floor, he
sighed lowered his night vision binoculars
and gave Abba Diola an elbow push.
Diola conferred without a word.
A moment later both sprang to their feet
and dashed towards the guard house.
Once inside they turned off the lights
and sat there in the little room very
quietly.
After some minuets had gone, the door
opened again and the monk appeared in
the darkness unable to see anything
around him. He felt strong hands around
his neck draining the breath out of him.
He opened his mouth to shout but
someone stuffed it with a piece of doth.
He collapsed at last unable to breath.
As soon as Abba Diola made sure the
guard can no longer resist he let go of his
hand clasped around his neck. They rolled
up the monk`s dead body with the red
carpet and placed it on corner. Then they
locked the guards` room from the inside
and lighted the candles. They took the set
of keys they managed to retrieve from the
tight clasp of the monk`s dead body and
they went down the hole.
“You`ve to go back.” Zipporah said,
pausing for a moment along the cave`s
tunnel-like path.
“Why?” replied Diola, he too coming to
an abrupt stop.
“You know we`ve killed the guard.”
“So?”
“You`ve to hide the body.”
“What?” the idea was ridiculous to him.
“Go back and hide the body.”
“And you?”
“I`ll go into the cave.”
“Where do I hide the body?”
“Bury him or anything…”
“Ok give me the key.”
“Which key?”
“The cross…the key to the sunk ship.”
“No, I`ll not give you that. We`ve already
talked about it. If we`re going to start
anything about the sunken ship, you`ve to
first get rid of the Italian who`s giving
you orders from an inhibited island. Now
you are left with two missions, first go
and hide the monk`s body. Second, get rid
of Mormordino. And also let me
complete my mission in this cave. Then
we`ll meet and feast upon the treasure in
the ship.
Diola seemed to agree with her because
he turned and went back to the
guardhouse without saying another word.
He went up the ladder into the
guardhouse. Then he closed the door to
the cave and went out the guard house
carrying the guard`s body. He locked the
guard house and left the store room`s
compound very carefully.
Zipporah passed room after room
opening their doors with the curved keys.
At some point on her way she might have
set off the sirens. Immediately after,
people carrying guns rushed to where she
was. She took her hands up in surrender.
They put her into hand cuffs and took her
to the elevator. As they reached the
bottom, she was taken to a dark room
where she was locked up.
Minutes went by. Then, two people
entered the room and put the lights on.
She squinted to look at the two people
from where she was sitting on the floor
tied up. She recognized one of them
immediately. The man was Abba Jenberu.
She was not sure about the second one.
She recalled seeing the face. But where? She
started thinking quickly. How could it be?
What was he doing in this cave? The man she
had been looking for, for many years. Was he
really Mirage? He couldn`t be! But his face was
the one she remembered from her youthful days.
She kept staring at the man even as Abba
Jenberu walked around her.
“So Abba Finhass!” he said after a long
while. “Your crimes are multiplying like a
locust. I allowed you to live in this place
of God thinking that you were a changed
man... that you repented your sins. But
now you are breaking and entering.”
“Is he really Abba Finhass?” said Mirage
sending his hand to his gun.
“Yes he is!” Abba Jenberu answered.
Mirage aimed his gun at the prisoner`s
head. “Where is Zipporah? He demanded
harshly. But Abba Finhass had no reply
except to stare at him continuously.
“Abba Finhass do you remember me? I
am Mirage. Where have you taken
Zipporah?” his lips were quivering. “Tell
me where she is before I pull the trigger.”
Abba Finhass was still staring at him, but
now tears were in his eyes. “Mir…
Mirage…are you really Mirage? Are you
still alive my love? I was looking for you
for a long time. Are you still alive?”
“Answer me what I am asking you only.
Where is Zipporah?”
“He was always like that.” Abba Jenberu
said in weariness. “He used to say what he
was thinking, not what he was asked. He
is as elusive as ever… even more. Abba
Finhass is like that.”
“I don`t believe it! Mirage I almost had
given up the hope of finding you alive.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I am Zipporah. Mirage…I am really her.
I am looking at you. But you can`t see
me. I am covered with my father`s face
and my father`s sins.” Zipporah said this
in a state of an overwhelming blend of
feelings that she almost forgot her voice
was changed. Now she wondered how he
was going to identify her true identity. A
thought flashed in her mind.
“Believe me Mirage. It`s me Zipporah!
And even if you can`t recognize me you
can recognize your gift to me. I still have
the cross you had tied around my neck.
Untie me and let me show you.”
As he set her free she took off her clothes
and stood in front of him naked. In
between a pair of young breasts, there lies
the very cross he had given Zipporah a
very long time ago. He suddenly
remembered everything, which happened
between the two lovers passed in front of
his eyes as a lightning of successive
events.
He looked up and saw the bearded
monk`s face. A man`s face. He looked
down once more. A beautiful body of a
female. She …he couldn`t be Zipporah, he
wondered. He was confused.
CHAPTER 26
Diola walked down the narrow path on
Daga Island and stood on the shore for a
few seconds contemplating what he
should do next. He made up his mind
and loaded the body on a small old canoe
by the side of the lake, rocking upon the
waves.
He embarked on the boat and begun
rowing west of the island. About five
hundred meters off the island he dumped
the body in water.
He reached a very small island adjacent
the islands of Deq and Daga Estefan.
There was an air of warmness and
activity on the island`s horizon the moon
looked as if it was shining down only on
the island. Mormordino`s boat was seen
docked on the island`s port. As Diola
looked at the boat with a diving
excavator-dozer, he recalled the trainings
he did around the Palermo port. He also
recalled the time and effort that casted
Mormordino to make it operate able. He
went past the port into the tent where
people were chatting and laughing
playfully. There was no other source of
electricity in the island except the
generator whose power drives the bulbs
in the tents.
Mormordino is mind was fixed on
finding Diola and the map. He doesn`t
even got any use for Diola after he laid
his hands on the map.
Guards escorted Diola to Mormordino`s
tent after they made sure of his identity
and thoroughly searched him. The guards
were watching him, armed with automatic
rifles. Expensive Italian liquor filled the
large table. More than ten people sat
around the table sipping their drinks and
chatting.
As soon as Diola went into the tent,
Mormordino came to his feet to greet
him. Then he introduced him to one of
the men sitting around the table who had
arrived on the island that night. The man
has a very important authority and was
actually a minister.
Diola gazed at the minister`s body guards
who were watching him from behind
their sunglasses.
When Mormordino introduced him to
the new VIP by addressing him as
“Honorable minister…” he thought out
aloud, “minister or miner?” in a voice
audible only to himself. “Isn`t everyone on
this island waiting for me like vultures? To
scavenge on me! Isn`t it true? I`ll show you what
I`m made of for every single one of you! I must
be longing to spend the rest of my life as a slave,
if I`m going to hand over the treasure in the
sunken ship to all these vultures without a
fight!” He made up his mind after he sat
counsel with himself.
Mormordino signed everyone except the
minister to leave the tent. When only
three of them were left, he said, “Nigga!
So you came back with your job done?!
Right?” he asked him sipping from of his
glass and making a sudden slapping
sound as he detached his tongue from his
larynx.
“No, my job is not complete yet.” Diola
answered. “I need one more thing only. A
machinegun.”
“What for?” the minister answered. “I`ll
get you a fine piece of fire breathing
machine gun.”
“I want it right now. Now!” said Diola
and came to his feet. “We have to save
time.”
The minister rose up along him. Then led
him in the moonlight to the small
helicopter landed the same night. He then
produced a big machinegun out of the
chopper.
“Here you go!” the minister said. “You
can use it and keep it a secret at the same
time!”
“I also need some hand grenades.” Diola
said.
“What for?” the minister exclaimed. “Are
you planning to start the third world war
here?” he asked him humorously.
“Honorable minister!” Diola said,
properly positioning the machinegun in
his hands, “It doesn`t amaze me if this
could be the fourth or the first world war
for us.”
Diola knew that, as don Mormordino
came to this island in the pretext of
investment, why he wanted to tell the
minister the secret about the treasure and
asked his help. Diola also knew why the
conspiracy hadn`t reached the Ethiopian
government. It was evident that the entire
national security squad would be after
Mormordino by now, if they had known.
But Mormordino always knew what he
was doing and with whom. He was using
this minister because he knew he was a
weakness and had noticed that he had no
sense of love for his country. Also, the
minister was someone who can be
persuaded easily. He knew it hasn`t yet
come to the knowledge of authorities.
But still, his heart jumped a little
whenever he saw the patrol boat docked
at Tana port. Sicily had thought
Mormordino a lot, to tell Diola they have
nothing to be afraid of.
Diola wore the belt with grenades all
around it and loaded the automatic
machine gun. Then he looked up to the
moon. He made up his mind to complete
the job before dawn break. He looked at
Mormordino`s guards standing at
strategic positions carrying their
automatic machine guns. All seemed
ready to fire at anyone who tried to do
something stupid. How was he going to be a
match against them? He panicked just
thinking about it. His heart raced. He was
sure they would put a dozen in him
before he can fire a single bullet.
He walked towards Mormordino and told
him that it was time.
“Time for what?”
“Time to make everything ours. But that
minister guy…” Diola lowered his voice
and looked surreptitiously towards where
the minister sat. He knew the minister
don`t speak Italian.
“Don`t worry about him!” Mormordino
assured him. “Just think about laying our
hands on the map. The minister had guns
only, not brains. Haven`t I told you that
this country never grants authority for
intellectuals? We are in Africa. In a
country like Ethiopia you will be loyal to
guns, not to the law. Sicily`s Mafias rule
Sicily following an unrecorded but
invincible law while Ethiopia`s leaders
rule over the country following a written
law that excluded themselves. I don`t care
if anyone is a stupid minister! Sicily can
witness what we snatched away from the
jaws of monsters; this one should be
much easier_” Mormordino stopped
whispering when he saw the minister walk
towards them and tapped Diola`s
shoulder.
Diola stood where he was staring at the
ground for a long moment as if he lost
something valuable and then he looked
up and said in a loud voice, “I want
everyone on this island to go inside the
tent for a meeting!”
“No problem!” Mormordino clapped his
hands. “Everyone in the tent now!”
All did as they were told. The minister
and Mormordino began another round
of their drinks. The ones who were
standing were much greater in number
than the ones around the table. No one
knew exactly what they were here for, of
course except Diola. He cleared his
throat.
“We are here today…” his single eye as
bloody as it can be. There was a taste of
blood in his mouth. He cleared his throat
again. “An unfortunate fly will visit an
open mouth…” he managed to say a joke
with an effect.
Mormordino was the one who laughed
first then the minister followed. Then
Diola`s loud and warm laughter echoed
across the huge tent unveiling his
toothless crimson gum. That scene was
the joke the crowd loved. Diola`s
laughter suddenly came to an end.
“Excuse me…” he said as if he was
through and left the tent. He went to the
back. He can still hear their laughter and
the click of glasses.
Soon there was a loud explosion. Diola
was throwing his grenades in quick
succession into the tent. Then he took
cover behind a huge rock and started
firing his machine gun. Those who
managed to survive the blasts and the fire
ran out of the burning tent only to find
out that their efforts were meaningless.
Because they were met with a shower of
bullets.
Diola watched the minister and there
others run towards a helicopter. The
minister`s coat was on fire. Diola shot in
their direction and got one. The minister
threw his burning coat on his friend who
just went down with a howl and went
into the helicopter. The helicopter rose
and glided as fast as it could away from
Diola`s bullets that were piercing through
its body. But after a moment it returned
back to the island and started firing heavy
rounds down on the island. Diola was in
not a position from where he could have
a clear shot at the chopper without
getting himself shot at. He waited for it
to suit his cover. A decision that cost him.
A bullet went straight into his left hand.
He fell down sighing in agony as his
machine gun continued firing its rounds
aimlessly.
At last the helicopter laid off he turned
to see a badly burned man crawling to
where he was. He shoved his gun on the
head of the creature who looked more
like a burning flesh than a man. Diola
recognized the voice a lot quicker.
“You betrayed me, you slave!” the burned
flesh gnashed its teeth. “You animal! I fed
you from my plate and…and you
betrayed me! Traitor! Traitor!”
“There is no such thing as
CHAPTER 27
DAGA ESTEFAN ISLAND

UNDERGROUND FACILITY
“You recognized me, right Mira? You
know who I am, right? How could you
forget me darling? I` am really Zipporah !
Please know who I am. “Abba Finhass
said. Then she took him in her arms still
naked. She had forgotten about her face
covered with beard in the likeness of her
father`s. Mirage felt disgusted when he
looked at her naked body in complete
contrast with her face. He felt as though
he was in the arms of an old man. But as
he looked down between her breasts he
saw a cross exactly like the one he gave
Zipporah in his childhood.
“Mira…” Zipporah was pleading again.
“It’s me Zipporah ! Ok let me prove it to
you… remember the letter I wrote to you
on a piece of cloth I tore away from my
sheets…I told you to wash it…and you
came swimming all the way… in the
grave yard house…we kissed…then grave
diggers found us…remember.” She
didn`t know what else to do or say. She
searched her mind for something to
convince him with... Nothing came up.
“Can`t you remember? Mira…I love you!
I`ve been searching for you till today…”
tears came up to her eyes. What if he
can`t recognize her?
The door to her cell banged open
distracting them for a moment. Zipporah
turned away from Mirage to look at the
man escorted by guards who kicked and
shoved him into the cell. He was the
prisoner Diola.
As soon as he was inside, he pointed his
finger towards Zipporah as the convicted
guilty.
“Yes! That`s her. I am with her. I told
you…I am with her!” he said sighing in
pain. His body was drenched in blood.
“We caught him when he was breaking
and entering the store after murdering the
store keeper!” one of the guards said.
“He was caught sneaking down the guard
house.”
With that they went back to their posts
closing the cell`s door behind them.
Diola fell on the floor as a tree chopped
from under it.
He was at the small island. After he got
rid of Mormordino and his men, he ran
back to the boat that was already blazing
with fire in a blast by an assault from the
helicopter. He went abroad the burning
boat down to where the diving excavator-
dozer was located. Then he went into the
dozer and started operating it using the
techniques he had been training himself.
First, he pushed the buttons that lowered
and retracted the excavator attached to
the belly of the boat with huge thick
chains. Before he reached the bottom of
the water, he detached the small
watertight submarine from the chain and
started the engine.
Then he began speeding under water.
By the time the men in the helicopter
completely destroyed the boat and left
guessing that Diola too was dead, he was
well off the burning wreck of the boat
almost about 800 meters to reach Daga
island. The underwater excavator had a
retractable versatile digging blade, which
could be easily managed by joysticks from
inside. It was specially made to withstand
high pressure of the water above it and
has enough horsepower to dig through
hard rock. This it could go as far below as
wanted underwater without any leakage
and could dig through almost any barrier
along its way. A machine thatcost a
fortune to build. The engineers credited
for designing and building it by a special
order from Mormordino were killed just
when the test drive was known to be a
success and Diola received enough
trainings to operate it. They were killed in
the Mediterranean Sea off the coast of
Palermo shot on the head. Diola was the
one who pulled the trigger on the three
engineers.
Diola had taken the machine down to the
bottom of the lake at the Northern end
of the island. Then he placed it
submerged between the rocks by hooking
its anchor between rocks so that it
couldn`t rise to the surface. After he
completed his task Diola swam up for air
headed for Daga Island and he went up to
the island`s hill. He then went into the
guardhouse with the name. “Shepherd`s
square” and went down the funnel. That
was when the alarms in the tunnel
bellowed and guards took him by surprise
sparing him no moment to escape.
Diola recognized the man Zipporah was
begging to understand her true identity.
They had spent the night together in the
guest room, the day he arrived in the
monastery. He didn`t at all give a damn
about what was going on between the
two. His whole attention was on the cross
lying between Zipporah`s bosoms.
He raised his head from where he was
lying on the floor and looked at her chest.
What he never noticed was the amazed
look upon Abba Jenberu where eyes were
wide open gazing at Zipporah from a
corner of the room. He thought he
needed rest now. He took a deep breath
and let his body sprawled on the floor.
“Now do you know who I am?”
Zipporah said imploring him with her
eyes. Mirage was suddenly struck with
sadness that brought unconscious tears to
his eyes.
“Do you have a photo with you?” he
asked her.
“A…photo…my photo…” she said
unable to speak in confusion. “Yes, I have
one. But…but I haven`t got it with me
now. It is in my den. My luggage is
there…in the monastery…”
“Your bag is with me.” Diola interjected.
He was listening to them from where he
was lying down.
“We can go and get it if you want.”
He had hidden her bag deliberately with
everything in it she might need. He did it
out of a cunningly pessimist expectation
that it might serve him as a ransom
sometime in the future. Now he felt that
time has come.
“Let`s go!” Mirage said. “I need your
photo.”
“Get up!” Zipporah commanded looking
down to where he was and covering the
naked part of her body. “Give me my
bag.”
“It`s okay, I`ll give it back to you.” he said
trying to get up but failed to find the
strength. “A little help.” he extended his
hand to her.
“I`ve successfully completed my first
mission.” he told her after he came to his
feet with an effort.
“I swept the island clean, sent
Mormordino to hell with all his men.
And the minster had gone back home
empty handed. Now the island is
deserted. Even the big boat was
destroyed. The minister bombed it into
an inferno thinking that he got me inside
it. But I escaped alive and came here
driving the diving excavator underwater.”
Abba Jenberu and Mirage listened to
Diola in a very curious amazement. They
had absolutely no idea about what he was
talking about. He went on to tell them
about the adventures and his heroic acts
on the small island, as they were leaving
the DEROTGADA underground facility.
Blood was dripping down his left arm
even though he had the bullet wound tied
tightly with a piece of cloth. Now they
were at ground level, in the open air.
“So where is the diving excavator?” she
asked him.
“Follow me.” Diola said. He was planning
to remain diplomatic with these people
until he found what he wanted. Then they
would be unimportant to him. He would
use what they wanted as bait to trap them.
The group went down the hill on the
eastern side and reached the shore-line to
the lake.
“I can`t swim with one hand. But you can
dive and see it for yourself. I hid it there!”
he told Zipporah, pointing his chin to the
location.
Zipporah once again undressed exposing
a sexy feminine body to the surprise of
Mirage and Abba Jenberu. She then took
a deep breath and dived into the lake. She
swam underwater to the point Diola
showed her and was satisfied when she
found the underwater machine suspended
by its anchor chain from a cleft between
rocks.
After Zipporah came up to the surface
and put on her monk`s robe, she said to
Diola, “Now I want you to give me my
bag.”
“Wait, I need something from you before
that.” Diola replied.
They have already started walking back to
the monastery`s gates.
“What is that? Zipporah asked him.
“I want you to give me the cross, if you
want to get your bag.”
“The cross…?”
“Yes, the cross.”
“Never!”
“No cross…no bag.”
“You will give it back!” she said, grabbing
his wounded left arm and pulled it behind
his back.
“Ah…ah…hh…!” he shouted in pain.
“I will snap it away like a small branch.”
“You`re betraying me?”
“No, but I need my photograph.”
“Ok, wait for me in the cave. I will bring
your bag there.”
“How could I believe you?” Zipporah
asked him. Even Mirage and Abba
Jenberu didn`t seem to agree with his
idea. He was after all a criminal-a
murderer. But there seemed to be no
other option for Mirage. Her photo was
more important to him now than
anything else.
“You know I`m after the cross? Right? So
I will come back for it and bring the bag
with me. But in one condition only. You
must wait in the cave.”
Mirage and Zipporah looked at each
other. And without saying a word, came
to a common decision illogical and
incorrect to Abba Jenberu. He did not
protest though. He believed in Mirage.
“We agree.” Zipporah told Diola. “Ok,
do it quick!”
CHAPTER 28
DERTOGADA SURGICAL
SECTION

She was still unconscious for a few hours

after she went through a facial plastic
surgery that went on for long demanding
hours. Now when the cover on her face
was lifted and she couldn`t believe the
face that was staring at her from the
mirror. She felt like she was dreaming
“Where did you get my face from?” she
asked the doctor that gave her back her
real face. She was still looking into the
mirror. “Oh God, you`ve created me
again.”
“That was why I wanted to have your
photography.” answered doctor Mirage,
standing behind her in his white gown.
There were also other doctors of
Dertogada standing around, looking at
her with joyful smiles on their faces. She
uncontrollably put her arms around
Mirage and kissed him passionately.
“You see, I`ve kept my word and gave you
back your photo. I brought your photo
and gave them the suitcase. Then they
removed your father`s face away from
your face and replaced it with your own
regenerated face, you see, you would still
be a woman with an old man`s face, if I
hadn`t brought you your photograph.
You`ll never know what we did. You were
unconscious while we refigured you face.”
He wanted to tell her, she owed Diola a
lot. But the words wouldn`t come out.
“How many days did it take you?”
Zipporah asked with a sudden fit of
hectic nervousness. “How many…?”
“Almost more than six days?” he told her.
“More than six days?!” she exclaimed
frustrated.
“Hand me my lap top! Please quickly! Oh
my God! Diola! Please be quick!”
“What is it? What is wrong?!” Mirage
asked in panic.
Diola was the first to respond. He went
to where her luggage and quickly brought
her laptop.
She opened the laptop in haste and
started it. The detonator program showed
on the screen in red. The clock that
showed the countdown to the detonation
time of the tiny bomb in the engineer`s
head was still ticking down to zero. It
showed 00:59.

In the Dertogada meeting hall

Dertogada`s personnel were attentive to
the speech colonel Fissiha was making on
Dertogada`s monthly regular meeting.
His speech was captivating and filled with
fervent feelings.
Mattias Mamo sat leaning his head upon a
pole in the middle of the hall, listening to
the emotional words of the colonel. The
colonel spoke in a high pitched powerful
voice that made the veins on his neck
bulge from time to time. He was holding
a flag in one hand high up in air, while
doing it.
“This country, our mother land has
become a considerate and caring mom for
some of her children but a step-mom for
the others. Only through Dertogada is it
possible to hand over Ethiopia to
Ethiopians. Dertogada is not an agency
that attends to the needs and obligations
of the few. It`s not an organization that
works towards achieving political, racial
or religious equality for any specific
group. It doesn`t identify with any
Ethiopian citizen as an enemy, because of
his/her attitude.
The existing problems of Ethiopia aren`t
to be solved through propaganda, they`re
solved through logic, education and
science. Dertogada will return Ethiopia to
its former honor.”
There was a big applause. Matias Mamo
came to his feet clapping vigorously and
sat back again. He leant back against the
pillar decorated with many artifacts.

“Where is the engineer?” Zipporah

demanded raising her voice. It was zero
hours and forty four minutes. “Where…
where is the engineer? The scientist!
Where is Shagiz?”
Everyone was so terrified, that she didn`t
get a reply.
“Mirage, where is the engineer? Tell me!”
“Which engineer?” said Mirage in a voice
as excited as Zipporah.

“Only Ethiopian scientists could solve

Ethiopia`s problems. Only they can
enrich its uranium, mine for its ores and
develop its space research programs, not
others assigned on these posts with no
sense of belonging. Dertogada has
reached a point where it can perform
these tasks.
Dertogada shall prove itself. That`s why it
had been working without the knowledge
of any one.” His voice was overpowered
by the applause in the hall.

“Engineer Shagiz. He is in this came? In

which room?” Zipporah said emerging
out of the hospital`s emergency room.
The time on the laptop kept on ticking
towards destruction. It showed 00:23.

As the applause died away, the colonel

went on. “Until this day, Ethiopia has had
no permanent agency of intelligence that
is not liable to change as a regime
changed. All past secret services
operating in the country were working for
the good of the existing rules, not for the
good of the country. That have been the
reason why every reigning government
tended to steer it in any direction they
desired. That was because it lets them to.
Because it had no regime independent
beliefs and visions that can guide its
people in autopilot. Dertogada will serve
as a body which can stand to defend
Ethiopia, in addition to its purpose as a
secret scientific research centre.
Dertogada is an ever unchanging
organization as governments change. It
has the sign `` as its insignia, which is
Ethiopia`s symbol of resurrection and
renewal.
“What`s wrong with you? Why don`t you
tell me where he is?” Zipporah asked for
the third time. The digital watch read…
00:05.
“The body wasn`t engineer Shagiz.”
Mirage said after pausing for a moment.
“It is an exact replica of him with a face
surgically modified…”
“What?” she was in hysteria.

The colonel started singing the

inspirational song of Dertogada as a
prelude to end his speech. The rest
followed.
“Shagiz is still there.” Mirage said
returning his attention back from a song
he thought he heard. “He is working
against his will in some scientific research
centre.
“Inside his head…” a big blast from the
direction of the cave cut her short.
The blast was followed by a fierce blaze
of fire, which ignited all around the cave.
The silently operating generators in
Dertogada`s cave fed the fire with their
fuel, initiating a series of blasts.
Cries of panic and horror filled the allies.
Laboratory equipment and the mesh of
electric wires made hissing sounds as the
current inside them came in contact with
fire. Everything seemed on fire.
Matias was one of the first victims. A
metal case with a fuel went off with a big
blast and whirled along his direction. He
had no other choice than to watch it
splash his skull. That was the last thing he
ever saw in his life. The pillar he`d been
leaning came crushing down, spilling fire
in every direction as it did so. In the
frantic chaos of the hall, where everyone
was desperately trying to save their lives,
colonel Fissiha was seen putting out the
fire burning away his beloved flag. Then
he went on to save Abba Jenberu. A
selfless heroic action, but he was too late
to notice his own cloths on fire. A
moment later a light bulb set as big as a
coffee table came down flying straight at
him. He never got a moment to react. He
fell under its weight.
He was still breathing but unable to
move. Not a soul out run the speeding
fire. No one succeeded as a savior also.
Old Abba Jenberu couldn`t move his
frail body at all, paralyzed with panic.
Jangida tried carrying him out the door.
A few steps off the door, both were
inside a roaring blaze. He felt fire eating
away his skin and hair. He thought the
end had come.
“Leave me and save yourself!” Abba
Jenberu shouted to him in a voice full of
agony. “Go, go and tell the others to save
themselves. To…please leave me and go!”
As engineer Gera and Meroda went
hastening to the operating room, fire was
blazing behind them engineer Gera took
her by the arm and led her to Der-33
parking lot. They got into one of the
swift flying machines parked with similar
others. Gera opened the gate to the lake
and started the D33`s engine.
Meroda told Gera to wait for her and run
back to the medical emergency room. She
found Mirage and Zipporah.
“Follow me! Quick!” she told them in a
commanding voice. “Get out of here
right now! Run! Save yourselves!”
“Where is Jangida?” said Mirage,
sprinting behind Meroda. “…and Abba
Jenberu?”
“The fire got him. You shut up and
follow me! Save yourself…”
“No I won`t go without him.” Mirage
replied and started running towards the
flames stalking them. Zipporah started
following him. Then she held him by the
hand and hurriedly pulled him in the
direction of the Der-33.
“And I`ll not go without you.” She said
when she saw that he was determined to
return.
“I said, you come with me right now!”
Diola said commandingly to Zipporah.
Have you forgotten the cross on your
neck? Or else, let me carry it, you`re
planning of suicide…”
Mirage saw a human figure carrying
another man on his shoulder. He started
towards him. Mirage saw it was Jangida in
the middle of an unbelievable act of
courage and heroism.
“Jangida!” he called out to him.
When he reached him, Jangida was in a
terrible state. Almost all of his clothes
were burned away taking a considerable
part of his skin with them. He was in
unimaginable agony that was beyond
expression. “Shut the door!” Gera said
with a powerful voice. “Shut it!”
They closed the door behind them and as
they were coming closer to their
submarine, Jangida fell holding Abba
Jenberu with them.
“Put out the fire on him! The fire! Take
off his jacket!” he shouted out to them.
His clothes were melting and blended
with his skin. Mirage watched Abba
Jenberu is lifeless body. He was already
dead. Mirage took his scorched body in
his arms and cried. Everyone was struck
by sadness.
“Get in quick before the fire goes past
the gates!” Gera said. “Quick! The gates
are on fire!”
Mirage carried Jangida`s lame
unconscious body into the machine, soon
to become an underwater vessel.
The D-33 soon launched off the dock
under water, in the direction of Bahir
Dar. The underground state-of-the-art
facility that took years of building up,
took only a few seconds to transform
itself into ruins. Tana`s water poured in
from all directions filling it up until it was
history. Nothing more.
CHAPTER 29
GHION HOTEL BAHIR DAR
The sun had set already, when the five
survivors from the underwater
destructive fires, made it all alive using
the Der-33 as their getaway submarine.
They docked the little submarine some
distance off the Tana Transportation
Agency building along the shore and
headed into the Ghion Hotel. Doctor
Mirage went to get medical supplies as
soon as they all checked in.
He came back and carefully attended to
Jangida`s burns. When his pains were
sedated, he left him to rest in the hotel
room.
In the hotel built along the shore,
foreigners of every color and race created
a mood of celebration and joyful
refreshment. Most were Chinese people
chatting with raised hectic voices. Beyond
the oak tree lies the expanse of the lake,
which sends its breeze to that sets the
flowers alongside the hotel on an
unceasing dancing spirit. The tourists in
and out of the hotel seemed to be in a
happy oneness with the sweet sound of
the waves and the tender cares of the
breeze. They laughedaloud and dance by
going around the campfire outdoors.
Bahir-Dar city is always at the climax of
its beauty at night. The street lamps shone
down, the black asphalt lighting up the
young men and women walking below
them with their bright golden glitter.
They seemed the perfect objects in
harmonious scene with everything that is
beautiful around and below them.
The city has a momentary lapse of
warmness as soon the night sets, and it
goes into a peaceful and calm mood after
the brief interval of joyfulness and
delight passed away. Everything and
everybody went to calmness again except
the sound of music that came from the
local bars - a traditional Masinko music.
Except these few and the palms trees of
the city everybody and everything goes to
rest. The palm trees stood all night
swaying their beautifully pointed leaves,
as angels stood to watch over a city full
of bliss, spreading their wings as their
sign of protection.
Mirage and his group had no sense of it
all. They were completely heedless to the
joys around them. They sat near the
campfire alight in the hotel`s compound
in a spirit of sadness. They don`t even
have the state of mind to enjoy the
warmth from the fire. The painful air of
sadness all over them, succeeded in
excluding them.
Mirage looked down in silence. Zipporah
sat next to him placing one hand on his
shoulder. Meroda and engineer Gera also
sat at the sides of each other. But Meroda
had her eyes on Mirage and Zipporah in
front of her.
Jangida was the worst of all. His body
ached along with the pain of loss he
begun feeling as soon as he regained back
consciousness. Diola`s eyes were
transfixed on the silver cross Zipporah
was wearing. His arm ached as the pain
from the bullet wound and from the bite
Mormordino inflicted on him.
The dinner they`ve ordered minutes, ago
was served and they dined with, a few
words and little appetite.
Then Mirage took the “” shaped cross
from Zipporah and started studying it.
He found the numbers he was unable to
decipher last time.

1578,9,10,11, 1214, 1414 , 576,7,8 138123,139456

He knew the numbers were codesto
specific verses and words from the poem
“The passion of Peter”. The problem was,
now the Berana parchment on which the
poem was written has burned along with
the guitar back on Daga Island. He
thought of a way to have the poem right
now.
“Gera!?” he exclaimed suddenly. He
recalled that Gera read him the poem by
heart, back on his way to the islands.
He went to the room where Gera lay
asleep. He woke him, careful not to startle
him.
“Can you say that poem again?” he asked.
“Which poem?” Gera asked back trying
to remember.
“The passion of Peter”
“Do you think I can remember it? I
managed to do it after a lot of struggle
studying it. And I couldn`t have made it
if it wasn`t for Abba Jenberu`s effort.”
“It`s okay, just try.”
“Ok, let me try…” he cleared his throat.
After only two verses, he stopped last.
He tried from the beginning again. He
stumbled and came to a halt on the same
line.
“Go on…I`ll help you with the third
line.”
Mirage sited the verse.
Gera went on to the next, and the next.
Nobody can stop him now. Mirage
listened and counted the verses. And
when Gera came to a verse matching the
numbers on the cross, he wrote them
down on a piece of paper. At last he had
all the five verses he required. Then he
started searching for the words that the
subscripts point to.
Diola came closer to see what Mirage was
doing.

The first numbers were 1578,9,10,11 which

must be pointing to the 157th verse:-

Be it upon the tower of a splinter

 from my cross.
Otherwise I`m alone and for
Ethiopia only you are left,

The four words were “splinter from my cross”

He wrote them down on a sheet of paper,
separately.

The next verse was the 12th. It goes

Trodden down by a Hitlerist malignance

The subscript showed the 6th word,

`Trodden down`. Next came the pair 1414,15
He read the tenth verse.
Bent its neck down,
Its soul tramped to submission,
Though it longed to look up and see
truth

The 1st and the 4th words were “Bent” and

“down”.
“Yea,” he said, in satisfaction writing
them down in their original Amharic
alphabet.

“Let`s move on to the 57th verse,” he

went on speaking to Diola.

The 57th verse said,

In search of a bees` hive all day
As the roses, bud flowery
“Ok, the fifth, sixth and seventh words
are `roses`, `bud` and `flowery`, see,” Mirage
said.
“Then comes the whole words in the
138th and 139th was verse. That`s what
138123, 139456 means, I guess.” Mirage
told Gera.
As he came dose to the last set of
numbers written at the inner bottom of
the cross with a ቶ shape, he was getting
more and more excited.

“What does the 138th and 139th verse

say?” Mirage asked Gera who was stuck in
the middle of the poem. He tried all he
could to remember.
“Go on!” Diola said as though he shared
his efforts. Zipporah laughed as she saw
him focus all his attention on solving the
puzzle.
“Why are you laughing? Is that funny?”
Diola said turning towards Zipporah. If
his only eye could fire a bullet instead of
contempt, he would`ve shot her dead. He
wondered if she was about to exposed
him. He was afraid about her not to make
all his efforts meaningless.
He was using a razor he`d found in his
pockets to copy the numbers on his thigh.
He had to take the chance, because this
might be the only one he would get. He`d
searched his pockets for something he
could use to write the numbers without
then noticing. The razor was his only
alternative. He was writing under his
pants, opening his legs wide lest the blood
soaked into his paints and expose him.
“Yes, I remember it now!” Gera
said after he passed some minutes
moving his lips with closed eyes.
“The 138th and 139th verses say…`

Or snap away it`s ominous wings,

And force it break its promise.

“…yes, that is it.”

Doctor Mirage stretched towards Gera in
joy to kiss him on his forehead. “You`re
right my brilliant friend!”
Diola did the same, kissing Gera on his
forehead.
“According to our decoding, the
meanings of the numbers on the cross,”
said Mirage double checking the
numbers.” 1578,9,10,11, 1214, 1414 , 576,7,8
138123 and 139456 will be,”
He went on in Amharic. “splinter of my
crossBent downroses, bud flowerysnap
away it`s ominous wingsforce it break its
promise.”
As he read the words aloud, a meaningful
sentence was created to the amazement
of all.
“Aa…ha!” said Diola in utter admiration.
The night had already ended with their
success and Bahir Dar came alive with life
again. People started moving in and out
of the hotel.
CHAPTER 30
SEBARA BRIDGE, ABAY
A few miles before Diola reached Sebara
bridge the road he`d been following
driving the old fiat automobile, ended to
his surprise and anger. He then crashed it
with a tree and started running down the
clearing filled with bushes and an
evergreen. He was carrying the sickle and
hoe that used to be the old man`s.

He reached Sebara Bridge - to mean a

broken bridge. He was absolutely out of
breath. He stood on the other end. He
recognized the pillar at the other end. At
old times they used to call it the
“vulture`s pillar”. In between the ends
where was no real bridge except a thin
single rope that runs the entire length of
about 100 meters. He didn`t know how
he was going to reach the other end with
only one rope stretched across it.
He felt that he was about to faint when he
looked down the bridge. He moved back
holding his head between his plans as if
the furious Nile deep below him tried to
such it away from him. He sat there
feeling the grand beneath him with his
hands. He was still feeling faint.
He could see, even from where he was
stirring the sign `ቶ` and the Ethiopic
numerals `፬፬፬` inscribed along the side
of the stone pillar. That gave him the
determination and the courage to reach
the other end. He decided to get there by
all means possible.
He carefully clanged on to the rope with
both hands. He had decided not to look
down but his eyes wondered down against
his will. His body shook in a sudden
attack of panic. He imagined his skull
crusted to pieces upon those fierce sharp
as a razor rocks below him. He held his
breath and started moving an inch each
time towards the pillar. His body was
drenched with sweet. The air was hot as
the summer`s afternoon sun was at its
heights of cruelty; but his body was also
on fire out of the cocktail of emotions he
was going through. Adrenalin was
pumping in his veins. He crawled to the
Yelos pillar that stood in the middle of the
river. He went as far as where he saw the
cross and the sign ፬፬፬.He started digging
the pillar. It was a hard task that took him
a while. After the struggle between stone
and man the rock with the cross and
insignia at last gave way and went all the
way up. He sent his hand under water to a
newly made hole where there used to be
the rock. His hands touched a box. He
metal pulled it out. It was a small red box
on which was written the words
DERTOGADA.
“I found it! The great Diola has found
it!” he shouted triumphantly. His voice
echoed all around the valley. Ninety five
percent of the wealth in our world is in the
hands of only five percent people. He told
himself.
He crawled back, up to the bridge.
I Diola don`t want to die poor. Life is a
struggle. Those who are won in the fight
will be plundered. I was being plundered
up until now. But not anymore! I have
found the key. I will resurface the sunken
boat, take the money and buy huge shares
in major European countries....then…I
will be living like a king. As he reached
the bridge he looked at the numbers he
inscribed on his lap. The blood has
coagulated.
“Such a long time!” he said looking at the
box. “Don`t I deserve you?” he brought
it closer to his eyes as though the box can
hear him. “Yes I deserve you. I deserve all
the money!” he started sobbing unable to
contain his anticipation.
Then the unexpected happened. He
looked up to see Mirage pulling himself
towards him on the rope.
“You can`t have it!” yelled Diola
laughing. “You better go back. Do you
want your blood spilt! Get back!” he
picked up a stone and threw it towards
Mirage`s head in a horrifying accuracy.
The flying stone imparted all its
momentum to mirage`s head, which
suddenly was covered in blood. Then
Diola put the small red box on the tip of
the bridge and took his pocket knife and
cut off one end of the rope. Mirage was
near the tip of it. He swung down
straight into the river holding on to the
end of the rope for dear life. The lose end
of the rope winded around the red box
and took it down into the river with it.
Mirage had seen the glimpse of the box
falling down after him just before he went
down. As he surfaced again with the help
of the rope, he started swimming after it.
Diola immediately jumped down to the
river as he watched his fortune changing.
He started swimming after the box,
behind Mirage gasping for air. As Mirage
got hold of the box, Diola was already
behind him. He felt Diola`s powerful fist
from behind. The blow made him lose
control of himself just for a moment.
But it was enough for Diola to bring him
down under water sucking the life out of
him. He was unable to hold on to the box
under such an attack. Diola kept on
drowning Mirage even after he had
possession of the box.
Suddenly Diola heard a thunderous
sound from behind him and felt a sharp
blow on his head that took him to the
verge unconsciousness. He used all the
energy left in him to look back almost
lifeless. He saw Zipporah shooting her
gun towards him repeatedly. That was the
last thing he ever saw. He let go of the
box and collapsed into the water. Blood
was oozing from his head and open
mouth. He had become one with The
Nile.
Mirage began swimming in the direction
of Zipporah holding the box. She
couldn`t wait. She jumped into the river
and started swimming to him. As they
met, uncovered her face behind her wet
hair and looked at her with mixed feelings
of pain, triumph and love. She too
looked at him for a long moment that
seemed like eternity. Blood still trickled
down his face. Her lips were as sweet and
soft as ever. He took them with his.
Meroda watched the scene from the top
of the river which was excruciating for
her. Jealousy and love - a powerful
turmoil went through her whole being.
Now her dream of making Mirage hers
was over.
A hand tapped her shoulders. Gera was
behind her.
“Mirage wasn`t meant to be yours.” he
told her.
“But …but I was meant to be his…” she
was near tears and she no longer cared.
“Do you love him?” Gera asked her.
“Isn`t that obvious?”
“Then, set him free to do whatever he
desires. Maybe there is someone else that
is meant to be yours. You see…our
greatest desire is the knowledge that we
are desired. He knew you desire him. He
also knew that he needs you. But, put
yourself in his place and think… these
two were searching for each other all their
lives_”
“I understand what you mean, Gera. You
were right. I should look inside myself
again and find out what I really want. May
be what I want is only love. Because I
don`t think I can live without love any
longer. Someone without love is like a
bird with no wings. Both had lost their
means to fly. You know? I want love. I
need someone who will give me flowers. I
spent my entire life looking for love…”
tears were forming past her eyelids.
Gera never hesitated; he ran back to
where he had seen a beautiful flower on
their way here and brought it back to her.
“Here is your flower!” Gera said smiling.
“You are not joking, right?” she said
accepting his gift with a smile.
“You see it is easy to upset me or to make
my heart happy. I can be happy so easily.”
she was near tears again. He wiped them
from her face. She came closer and put
her arms around him. Maybe you are the one
meant for me.
“Thank you Gera. Since I can never live
without love maybe I will start loving my
country with all my heart. It needs love
more than any of us. I can devote the rest
of my life to her.”
“I will be beside you Meroda.” Gera
replied pulling her closer to his body.
Mirage and Zipporah came out of the
river hand in hand. Mirage smiled as he
watched Meroda and Gera in each others`
arms.
Mirage spent a while comparing the
bottom tip of the cross and the lock on
the red box. Then he inserted the end of
the cross into the lock and twisted it. The
box opened. Inside the red box there was
page ፬፬፬ of the great Berana book, neatly
folded. They unfolded the huge six meters
wide by four meters long page with some
difficulty. There was the map of the
position of the sunken boat in Lake Tana,
drawn in red. All looked at each other
smiling with joy.
Mirage looked at all of them. “Tonight!
We will dig out the boat and the treasure
inside it.”
Gera took on the same subject. “We will
build railway lines to Ethiopia. All of
Ethiopia`s parts will be joined.
Mountains will give way to the lines. That
will be a time when nations of Ethiopia
shall unite as brothers. Trade, education,
freedom, economy and science will all
flourish. Civilization will be our sign.
Everything will change for the better in a
very short time. We will transform
Ethiopia into a developed state out of its
slumber!”
Meroda came closer to Zipporah smiling.
“Can I borrow your lap top for a
second?” she asked her. Zipporah run
back to the plane and came back with her
lap-top and handed it to her.
Meroda opened her mouth and pulled at
her front teeth. All were looking at her in
surprise. She detached something that
fitted and looked alike her tooth. She
attached the tiny thing to the laptop and
turned it on. The photograph of engineer
Shagiz filled the screen. Then a photo of
a building. A huge research institute…
working personnel wearing yellow
overalls…armed men with automatic
machineguns on guard…the engineer. All
were hit by surprise as they watched
Shagiz.
“This is not an artificial teeth but a
camera receiver.” Meroda told them.
“So, that`s why you never really smiled.”
Mirage said.
“This camera receiver has software that
can connect us directly with Shagiz. You
can see that it continuously followed
engineer Shagiz wherever he went.
Because I have nothing left to love except
my country, I will tell you. I was an actor
until this moment. I hope I played it well.
I was one of the CIA agents on a mission
to spy on the engineer. I have used this
camera to follow and trap him for his
enemies. Now I will trap him for the
good of his country. We can bring him
back using this camera.” She detached the
device and fitted it back to her tooth.
“Now I am really ready to work with you
with all my heart. Because…” she looked
at Gera. He looked her back with a loving
smile.
“And let me tell you some joyful news.”
Gera said looking at everyone with a
smile. “I would like to tell you that there
is a bright flicker of light beyond the dark
sadness that had befallen on us. Hidden in
the belly of one of Ethiopia`s mountains,
Dertogada Two is waiting for you with all
its majesty. It is more sophisticated
scientists greater in number than the in
the one we lost by the fire are working
right at this moment. That will be our
next destination.”
“You are kidding!” Mirage felt his sadness
lift its burden from him. He felt a
rejuvenating hope.
“You will believe me when you look at it
for yourselves. Believing is seeing. It may
be as soon as tonight. You see…
Dertogada means `We never hesitate nor
shall we doubt`. There is a song for it which
I will sing for you now. He started singing
and walking towards Der-33
simultaneously. They followed him…
Dertogada
Dertogada
We don`t wait for anyone to change us
We never hesitate nor shall we doubt to
change.
Dertogada
Dertogada
The night of sadness is over
O Say, its dawn and stand up.

As the D-33 flew towards Lake Tana the

long winged eagles of the Nile followed
gliding it in formation.

The End