City of Saints & Thieves(100)
All other mistakes, omissions, and inaccuracies are mine, all mine, with sincere thanks and apologies.
GLOSSARY
Swahili, including Sheng*: askari: guard; warrior; Cathi’s dog’s name buibui: modest black garment worn predominantly by Muslim women on the Swahili coast bwana: mister
dengu: soupy bean dish (usually mung beans) habari ya jioni: good evening habibi: (Arabic) term of endearment hatari: danger
hodi: word used to announce yourself, usually at someone’s home jua kali: literally “hot sun,” referring to the informal market in Kenya. As a verb, equivalent to “improvised” or “jerry-rigged”
kanga: colorful, popular style of fabric worn as a wrap in East Africa; design usually includes a saying or proverb kanzu: long white garment (tunic) worn predominantly by Muslim men karibu: welcome
kauzi: thief
kijana: young (boy); youth
kitenge/vitenge: colorful, graphic fabric popular in East Africa and eastern Congo Kwani?: What? (Say what?)
mandazi: fried dough street snack matoke: starchy banana (plantain) mavi: a rude word for excrement you should not use in front of your grandmother mdosi: mister; boss
mokele-mbembe: (Lingala) legendary monster said to inhabit the Congo River basin mwizi: thief
mzee: mister (usually for an older man) mzingo: perimeter
mzungu: (Swahili) white person ngai: God
nyanya: (Swahili) grandmother panga: machete
piki-piki: small motorcycle pili-pili: spicy chili sauce polepole: slowly slowly
polisi: police
shoga: (Sheng) extremely rude word for a gay person. Don’t use this word at all, ever.
shonde: (Sheng) another rude word for excrement you should not use in front of your grandmother sonko: (Sheng) rich
sukuma/sukuma wiki: collard-like green thegi: (Sheng) thief
ugali: cooked cornmeal, a staple dish in Kenya WaBenzi: Wa = of (often as in tribe). Benzi is slang for Mercedes-Benz. WaBenzi is, therefore, “tribe of the Mercedes-Benz”
wache waseme: from an old Swahili song, “Let Them Talk”
weh: From wewe, meaning “you”
French:
bienvenue: welcome
comptoir: gold buyers; middlemen (can also mean gold trading house) voleur: thief
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
They say it takes a village. In the case of this book, it took a village, several midsized cities, a couple of continents, and endless family, friends, friends of family, strangers, and others to bring this book to life. I’m going to attempt the impossible here, to express how grateful I am for all the help I’ve had along the way.
I have to start with the women, men, and children from the Democratic Republic of the Congo who told me their stories as part of their resettlement interview process, as well as others who told me just because they wanted their stories to exist in the world. Telling is an act of bravery, so thank you for sharing that bravery with me. To say I am grateful is not quite right; I am humbled by you. I am especially in debt to the Women’s Group at RefugePoint in Nairobi, with a special shout-out to C and R. I think about you often. When I say this book is for the girls (and women) who are more than just refugees, I think of you and your children.
I’m incredibly lucky to have the charmingly badass Faye Bender as my agent. My guide to the mysterious world of publishing, she knows just what to do, how to do it, when and why, and also finds time to be a writer-whisperer, hand-holder, squee-sharer. Thank you for believing in this story. Thank you for pushing me to be better.
Stacey Barney, editor extraordinaire at Putnam, you are magic. I am so grateful that we came together on this book, and find more reasons to be grateful every day. Being among your flock is a dream come true. I love that you challenge me, ask all the tough questions, encourage, cajole, prod, and just when I think I’m finally done, you ask one more question, illuminate one more way in which to make the story shine. A million thanks as well to Kate Meltzer, also a brilliant editor, all-around thoughtful and kind person, and keeper of many balls in the air.
The entire team at Penguin Random House and G. P. Putnam’s Sons Books for Young Readers deserves a standing ovation for all the hard work they do to get books into hands. You are a crazy-impressive bunch of pros. I’m so proud to be under your wings.
This book might never have existed without the incredible support of the Associates of the Boston Public Library’s Writer-in-Residence Fellowship. You are the knights of the People’s Palace. Thank you for taking a risk on me, for the time and beautiful space to write in, but most of all for the priceless gift of allowing me to call myself a writer. Shout-outs to the Teen and Central librarians as well for your tireless efforts to keep libraries vibrant and community-centered. Also for just being awesome.
So many people read and provided feedback along the way: Asante sana to Carine Umutoniwase, Rita Njue, Maggie Muthama, and C—your perspectives were so critical. JB, your Sheng game is on point. Thank you to my BSpec peeps who read, came out, cheered, critiqued like bosses, titled, tweeted, cocktailed, and read again: Lyndsay, Lura, Andrea, Claire, Gillian, Beth, Jess, Kyle, Rae, Eric, Jay, Seth, Emily, Caitlin, Lauren, Nyssa, Victoria, Angela, Kat, Robert—deep breath, egads, there are a lot of us—you’re the best bunch of murderboozers a gal could have. Thank you to Karen B, for graciously volunteering your expertise (and keeping my grammar proper!). To the Louisville book club, thank you for humoring me and acting like I was a legit author before any of this happened.