The Red Star: Memoir by Liz Samuels

Take a trip through space and time with Liz Samuels' memoir about The People's Republic of Benin (now Benin) in the 1970s. A West African nation that was formerly known as Dahomey, the shores of Benin were part of the Slave Coast, where captives were once sent across the Atlantic. Ironically, the nation's current president, Patrice Talon, is a businessman who's called "the king of cotton."

Liz Samuels with her dad in front of the flag of the People's Republic of Benin

 at her school in 1976. Photo courtesy of Liz Samuels.

The Red Star
by Liz Samuels

In the dead of night, naked and dripping sweat, Mike and Susan Ellis slept, a mosquito net the only barrier between them and the air. They were startled by a hollow knocking on their heavy, double-width, mahogany front door. When Mike answered, two gendarmes, brandishing machine guns lit up only by one bright flashlight stood in front of him. They shouted the name of the wanted man. They were searching for the neighbor next door, a teacher who had recently been a leader of the teacher strike in their town, Porto Novo, Dahomey. The teacher got away just in time, leaving behind his Russian wife, Olga, two children, three-year-old Demitri and baby Vladimir, and a nine-year-old child/servant.

Since I took over for the Ellises, the remaining family would soon become my neighbors. The young servant was often outside with Vladimir on her back sucking sugar cane or, as I later discovered, sneaking sugar cubes from my refrigerator. Dimitri once took a calculator from my table and brought it to his house. Olga worked a lot of hours at the nearby yogurt facility across the street. She advised me to never marry a Dahomian. The family became my friends.

What transpired in the country during the husband's absence was enough to make a mind swirl. I was also a teacher and a few months later, on November 30^th, 1975, I marched in a parade with my students, the lone white face in a sea of black people. At mid-day, the sun was hot and the sky completely blue. Dust from the dirt road was visible in the brilliance. We all smelled of sweat. Uncharacteristically, the students didn't complain. They loved anything to do with the revolution and were inspired by the band playing revolutionary songs. Everyone, that is the entire population of Porto Novo,  was talking loudly, so I didn't hear the announcement on the intercom. Word got around fast, though. The leader of the country, Matthieu Kerekou, now a member of the Communist Party, announced the country had a new name, the People's Republic of Benin, and she had a new flag too, instead of yellow and green and black rectangles, it was now solid green, with a red star in the corner. Word was that Dahomey only represented an elite group, and Benin was more universal. It was hard to change the word I had come to identify with but the reasons sounded like a step in the right direction.

Other changes impacted me more directly. The school year was changed to start in January instead of September. It was meant to coincide with the African growing seasons rather than the European ones. That sounded positive, but it meant six months of summer vacation instead of three.

Agriculture became part of the curriculum. The idea was well meaning, but I was expected to demand students perform manual labor, like plowing parched earth with hoes or hacking fast-growing vegetation with machetes  in the hot sun. I would rather have been under a roof deciphering English grammar or better yet discussing their perspectives on writings by Chinua Achebe or Charles Dickens in front of my students' chalkboard drawing of Lenin.

 

I liked it when  young, fit, military students, both male and female,  in crisp khaki uniforms were sent to our school to augment the teaching crew. They probably had guns too. I think I had become too accustomed to notice. I liked the fatter female teachers, with their pagnas adjustable for  pregnancies who only taught home ec, but this change to more equality for women was a nice contrast.

Liz Samuels carrying the current flag of Benin and  marching in the Portland Rose Parade 

in June of this year.  Photo courtesy of Liz Samuels.

Over time, the military slogans continued to increase. The students stood when I walked into the classroom. "Ehuzu, Din Don, Ehuzu, Din Don", they  shouted. "La Lutte Continue! The struggle continues!"

One day, I came home and the house next door was eerily empty. Rumor has it that Olga and family were able to reunite with man of the house in Cameroon. Today, Benin is a democratic country, in fact it became democratic under the same president, Matthieu Kerekou. He is known for having a very long presidency which changed with the times. His nickname is the chamelion.  


About the author: 
Liz Samuels says, "I'm a beginning creative writing student. My only experience has been hand written letters to my family from the early 60s to the early 80s, high school and college exercises in the 60s and 70s,  and  a few assigned, self-reflective essays since. Despite this, writing comes  naturally to me. I hope to do more of it in the future, especially fiction, with which I have no experience at all."