Leila and Juma were down by the stream when they saw Kato marching on the other riverbank. Leila was standing next to Juma who was crouching next to her as she told him everything she knew about the Molo frog perching a few feet from them, half submerged. Juma was listening with keen interest as if it was the first time he had heard it (as if she didn’t reiterate what he had told her the week prior). Years later she would be grateful for how patient he was at any time, but back then she could sense his attention was being hijacked by her twin brother, marching on the other side of the stream with a big stick in his hand.
“Hey Kato!” she called, “Where are you going?” Juma stood up and wiped his hands on his trousers. Leila felt a tinge of annoyance as she didn’t get to the best part where she could identify by its size that this particular specimen was a female, but at the same time she was just as curious about what her brother was up to. Kato was reluctant to stop at first, but then thought better of himself and turned to answer her.
They were about an hour’s walk from their home, but it was common for kids to wander off, as long as they knew to come back at a sensible hour (which often was dinner time). Leila was strolling leisurely along the stream when she met with Juma and decided to tell him about frogs. Juma was actually on his way back from working in the crop fields, but he didn’t mind stopping to check what the kid was up to.Most adults, and especially Juma, were patient enough to listen to children as they knew it helped the children learn better.
“I’m going to set the Omelas child free!” Kato said in his ten-year-old serious tone. Juma looked at Leila and she rolled her eyes and sighed. “We read about Omelas this morning,” she explained. “Wait! We’ll come with you! We can help!” She called back to her brother, and then nudged Juma to join her as they found an easy place to cross the stream and join Kato in his march.
The story was considered a classic and was often told to growing children as part of a wider discussion about morality and responsibility. Most people knew the story and saw it as a cautionary tale with a message that good becomes evil when it comes at someone else’s expense. Children often learn about it when they are mature enough to accept responsibility.
“Is this the right way to Omelas?” Juma asked after a few minutes of walking together with the two kids. “I’m not sure,” said Kato. “I think.”
“Do you have a map? Maybe we should get a map first,” Leila suggested, noticing Juma’s twinkle of a smile in the corner of his eye. “I guess…,” Kato said. She could sense his air deflating and she quickly added, “Come! We shouldn’t waste time!”
It was a nice sunny day in the late afternoon hours. A warm evening breeze from the east swayed the tall grass. Small particles of dirt lightly shifted on the dirt road as they walked, full of intent and leisurely at the same time, as children often do.
“What’s our plan? What should we do when we get there?” Juma asked as they headed back to their bolo to get the map. “It’s not fair that the kid is locked up,” Kato answered with conviction. “We should just march in there ‘guns blazing’ and get him out.” Juma chuckled silently at this, knowing Kato had never seen a gun in his life. As naive as he was, Leila felt great admiration for her brother who was ready to fight the world to save an innocent child he never met.
“And if ‘guns blazing’ means the citizens of Omelas fight back to protect their lives? Are you ready to hurt people to save one?” ask Juma
“No, that’s not what I meant,” stumbled Kato. “I mean we go and don’t take ‘no’ for an answer”.
“I worry the people of Omelas won’t be too happy about it,” said Juma cautiously. “You see, their life depends on having that child where he is now. If it’s up to them, I don’t think they’re going to let us get away with it so easily.” Leila noticed he said “us” in order not to sound too dismissive. Kato noticed as well and didn’t seem to be dismayed.
“Would they really die though? They don’t know that for sure.” Kato challenged.
“They don’t know the opposite either. They had this child in the basement for as long as they knew and their life was good. No one knows what will happen if they try to change that”.
“Wait, does the kid ever grow up?” Leila interjected. “Do they keep him in that room forever, or do they put a new kid in when he gets older?” She could see Juma’s chest puff with pride and admiration for her. “If it’s a new kid every time, that’s even worse!” she concluded.
“Well, we don’t really know,” answered Juma, “but I don’t know what difference it makes. A child is being tormented either way.” He was completely invested in the conversation without a thread of condescension. “But I still worry the people of Omelas wouldn’t appreciate you barging in and breaking away their tradition. People can grow very attached to their tradition. It gives them certainty and a sense of identity,” he added.
“And people are sure willing to accept all kinds of atrocities in the name of tradition,” Leila added.
Kato stopped in his tracks and looked at them. “If it were me in that basement, I wouldn’t care about their ‘traditions’ or their feelings—I’d want someone to break the door down,” he told them. Leila looked at Juma and he looked back at her, eyes widened in surprise. Leila felt a little bit jealous at her brother’s conviction. It might have been slightly coarse but she was proud of her brother for coming up with that.
“That’s very true,” Juma answered. “Every tradition started by someone who believed that something another person did was worth preserving.” They continued their casual walk again. “Well, if people stop believing in a rule, it’s not a real rule anymore.” Kato replied.
“I don’t think you can use force to stop traditions. Force makes martyrs, Kato. If we just fight them and take him, they’ll get mad and just lock up another kid the second we leave.” Leila said, hoping not to crush her brother’s hopes, but perhaps ground them a bit.
They had to make a short stop while a herd of twenty black rhinos crossed the dirt road. There was no immediate danger but as a general rule people tried to be respectful and not lead to situations that might stress the wildlife. A repellent they all had sprayed, which didn’t smell like more than a whiff of cantaloupe, made them unattractive to mosquitoes and predators. Wildlife wasn’t dangerous, as long as you didn’t jump-scare anything deadly.
“Do you guys think the people of Omelas should answer for what they did to the child?” Juma asked as they resumed their walk.
“Well, the kids in Omelas didn’t do anything wrong. They were just born there.” Leila answered.
“The grown-ups who knew and didn’t stop it are just as bad. They should get in trouble too.” Kato said, irritation clearly noticed in his voice.
“Some people knew about it but felt they couldn’t do anything about it,” Leila added.
“The people who left were just running away. Running off doesn’t fix anything.” Kato noted.
“Leaving is not easy. It requires courage. It requires the willingness to leave everything and everyone they ever knew behind.” Juma replied. “Leaving might be the only thing they can do to save some of their conscience. And you might think that the knowledge of the boy might keep them awake at night, but let me tell you this: a heavy conscience and an empty stomach won’t keep you awake at night if you’re really tired,” he said, while looking at Kato, who was notorious for arriving late for supper but always managing to find something to nibble before going to bed.
The open fields gave way to groves, orchards and forest, all mixed, all nourishing themselves. Canopies shaded the road which turned from dirt to gravel. The fruits, free for anyone for the taking, hung heavily on the trees. People ate as much as they needed and didn’t feel bad leaving some in abundance, knowing it would replenish the soil when the time came. Bees were buzzing over the trees but that didn’t stop the kids from picking some tangerines to nibble on their way.
“I think the people in Omelas are good deep down,” said Leila, to the curious faces of Kato and Juma. “At least they went to look at him instead of pretending he wasn’t there.” she explained.
“They forced themselves to look at him once and then ignored him.” Kato said, “Which is worse? looking at someone while you hurt them, or pretending they don’t even exist?”
“Pretending they don’t exist is cowardly.” Leila answered. “What if they buried the basement and hid it from their kids? Then nobody would even know their happy life came from hurting someone!”
“Look at the wonderful things you have in your life”, said Juma. “Have you questioned what sacrifice was made for this to happen?”
“Is there a sacrifice that we are not aware of?” Leila retorted. “Yes, there are people who work hard to make us food and in turn we’ll make food for someone else. Yes, there are animals who had to give their space so we would have a place to live, we respect them and their habitats.” She paused to look at Juma before continuing. “If you told me that the chocolate makes someone suffer then I would rather stop eating it!” her voice boomed.
“And we all know Leila loves her chocolate!” Kato laughed and they laughed with him.
They reached the urbanised area with more houses and less wildlife that preferred to be left alone. The sounds changed: more talks, singing, laughing and fewer animal noises. There were still plenty of bird songs and quite a lot of bugs flapping their tiny wings. But no cars or humming machines, definitely no horns or booming sounds. These were far less common nowadays – a “glorified nuisance” as Juma once mentioned. The road turned to bricks, carefully laid to allow rain to seep between the cracks and nourish the soil. Small weeds grew between the cracks and Juma thought to himself these should probably get trimmed at some point. It was tedious, but it was much better than handling the damaging runoffs. They would be home soon and the sun was about to set and the sky was starting to turn to a golden-orange color.
“If saving one child destroys the peace of ten thousand others, who bears the burden of their suffering, Kato? Perhaps it’s a great honour in their culture?” asked Juma.
“Well, the story didn’t say that…” Kato replied, but then continued, “But did anyone even ask the kid if he wanted to be locked up? You can’t force someone to be a hero!” he said, swaying his stick back and forth.
They eventually arrived home as the golden skies turned dark into a warm summer night. Other people, family and neighbours arrived as well and the smell of the hot Maharage became intoxicating. They stopped just before they entered the shared courtyard.
“So what do you suggest? It’s probably too late to start travelling tonight, but we can try again tomorrow?” Juma asked the two children. It was Leila who came up with a plan.
“Charging won’t work. They’ll just fight us and lock up another kid…” she said while looking at Kato. “A better plan is to go there first and figure out why they do it, and work with them to find a better solution”
“And how do you suggest we should do that?” asked Juma.
“We should talk to the people there and convince them to stop doing it, step by step, so they change their minds for good.”
“That sounds like a good plan,” agreed Kato.
“Yes, it’s a good plan. Now how about we get some food? I’m starving!” said Juma happily as they all went inside.
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