"Les salauds ont mis le feu à mon paradis."*

Alpha Blondy_Ivorian singer

Norabel

When your world is about to be turned upside down the universe will send you a sign.

This afternoon when I get out of my last class that sign comes as my phone vibrates with an incoming notification. I take it out of my pocket to read the message my mother has just sent me.

Barricades and burning tires at Kafou Marasa. Don't go home by yourself. A friend of mine will pick you up.

A knot ties up my chest as I understand that a protest of this kind means I won't be able to attend classes for the rest of the week. Not because of the situation at Kafou Marasa but because my mother has become paranoid ever since I got caught in a shooting at the local market of Croix-des-Bouquets. A real hassle because I'm supposed to meet my thesis director for a workshop.

I reply quickly to my mother and then make my way through the flow of students streaming up and down the hallways.

Okay. I'll be waiting.

I walk past three departments before turning right when I reach Economics. I texted Keisha early to find out where she would be at this hour.

I spot my best friend easily when I make it to her class. Her gorgeous hairstyle can be spotted from a distance, light brown crochet twists that reach below shoulder length. Today she's decided to style them half bun, half down. Keisha can pull off any hairstyle with the same panache as any model in a magazine and I adore her for it.

The class is almost filled, a signal that the professor might arrive soon. My body slumps in the empty chair next to hers and I don't try to hide my gleeful expression as I watch my best friend hammer the keyboard of her laptop as if her life depends on it.

"Don't make fun of me Norabel or I'll punch you in the face." Keisha's warning comes before I have a chance to tease her about the fact that she always seems to let her procrastination get the best of her.

"I haven't even said anything."

"That's only because I beat you to it."

Last night she video-called me so I could help her pick an outfit. This guy she'd been having a crush on had finally asked her to go out. At the beginning of this semester after three lousy encounters with guys from the Computer Science department Keisha had vowed to never give them a shot and yet here we go again!

"At least tell me the hookup was worth the stress you're going through right now?"

My question finally forces her to look up from the screen a mischievous glint in her eyes as she nods enthusiastically making her twists jiggle. I can already sense that I'm about to receive some spicy anecdote. Of course, it's Keisha so she doesn't disappoint.

"Girl, when I tell you that this man made me shiver in places I didn't even know existed last night. At some point, he did something with his tongue and I swear my lady parts began to worship him." Her voice trails off on a dreamy sigh. I burst out laughing as she returned to her assignment.

"Let me guess, you plan to see him again?"

"You bet I am! Unlike you, I won't sabotage every single chance of getting laid that comes my way."

I couldn't be more grateful at that moment that most conversations around us are loud enough that nobody pays us attention.

"That's a bit of an exaggeration," I offer as a weak defense.

"Oh! You're sure about that? Then maybe you can tell me why you're ghosting the guy I linked you with at that pool party two weeks ago?"

"I discovered he had just gotten out of a long-lasting relationship with a girl in International Affairs with whom I have a common class. It made me feel weird, that's all."

"What about that nice gentleman who offered us a ride to uni during that public transport strike last month? He was interested enough to give you his number."

"You might not have noticed the obvious ten years gap between us but I did."

Keisha gives me this look that I've unfortunately become familiar with. It's the "you're gonna die single" look.

"I did notice his brand new Nissan Patrol and the license plate issued to officials of the government."

"Oh, my goodness. I'm done with this conversation. "

I make a point of starting to scroll through social media but Keisha isn't done speaking yet.

"Babe, I'm just worried about you. It's been almost a year since that break up and you don't seem to make any effort to put yourself out there."

It's been eight months to be exact. Not that I'm counting or anything but...

"I'm just taking my time. And to be honest, working on my thesis leaves me with no time to hang out."

The mention of the dreaded word "Thesis" makes Keisha groan as if she's in physical pain. "Ugh! Thinking that I will be in your shoes next year gives me vivid nightmares at night."

I might be in my last year of studies but Keisha still has one more year to go which means that aside from midterms and finals she doesn't have to deal with the same level of pressure that I do. Recently I came up with a useful trick for when I often find myself close to panic amid the astounding amount of research I have to do. I would close my eyes and visualize myself walking up the stage after they called my name. To receive my degree when all the odds in this country have made it extra difficult will be my reward.

Once Keisha completes the assignment she tells me that there's still fifteen minutes left before her professor comes so she decides to go grab a bite with me. We head out of the main building and cross the campus in the direction of the cafeteria which is in a separate area right before the administration office of our university.

Our cafeteria is an open space with several wooden tables and chairs, some students are eating while others are working on their laptops. Of course, the guys from Civil Engineering have taken over some tables to spread out huge drawing sheets. It always makes my skin crawl whenever they do that. They make fewer places available for those who just want to eat.

Keisha and I walk up to the back toward the inbuilt take-out space where we can buy food and drinks. There's already a line leading to the counter so we stand at the end. As we wait in line for our turn I start hearing other students talk about the situation at Kafou Marasa. Keisha turns to me with a concerned look. She knows I have to go through Kafou Marasa before I reach my neighborhood in Croix-des-Bouquets.

"Have you heard about that?"

"Yeah, my mother sent me a message a little while ago. I'm supposed to stay here until someone comes to get me."

"Let's hope it's over before you get there. What are they protesting for?"

Who knows? Inflation, scarcity of fuel, insecurity... It could be anything at this point.

"Mom didn't tell me what caused the protest but it might already be over as we're speaking."

I've noticed with Croix-des-Bouquets that news spreads quickly online whenever there's the slightest situation happening and they often make it look worse than it is.

"I take it your mom is still not considering moving out of this place? Shit has been going down this year, it's crazy."

Many families have moved out of Croix-des-Bouquets due to the continuous rise of missing people cases. My mother is one of those natives who grew up there so she finds it hard to say goodbye. To be honest I can't fault her for that.

"Where would we go if she decides to move out? It would be stupid to abandon our house to go rent another place. I'm not the one informing you that rent prices are crazy."

It's finally our turn to order and once we've been handed our food we take place at one of the tables. We resume the conversation but I shift the topic and get Keisha to talk about her second date with her crush planned for this week-end. By the time we finished eating, I had already helped her mentally pick an outfit and listed potential restaurants she wanted to try.

Keisha heads back to the main building for her next class and I remain in the cafeteria. I text my mother again to ask about when that friend of hers is coming but she doesn't reply, probably busy at work. To kill some time I decide to go get myself a fresco*. There's a food stand selling grilled sausages, popcorn, and fresco in front of the cafeteria, the owner is an alumnus of our university. He hires students to manage the stand throughout the week.

I pay and ask for my favorite flavor, coconut syrup, and then wait as the guy scoops up the shaved ice and fills a medium-sized plastic cup. I suddenly realize that I recognize the student managing the stand today. One time he wanted my help to get Keisha's phone number and thanks to me he got it.

When he hands over my cup and a straw I put on an angelic face to ask "Can I have the special juice?"

Special juice is the code students use to ask for alcohol to be added to their fresco.

He glances toward the disciplinary office right across the lawn before looking back at me. "You guys have to stop asking for this. You know the rules."

But he still takes my cup and bends down to open a cabinet. This time when he gives it back, the heavenly smell of kleren* invades my nose.

"You're the best!" I thank him with a huge smile before turning away.

I receive a new notification as I walk back toward the cafeteria. Eager to see if my mother has replied, I stop walking to check right away. I hope she's telling me that the situation at Kafou Marasa has been dealt with and I can go home on public transport.

The actual content of her message is the last thing I expected.

There was a breakout at the prison of Croix-des-Bouquets. It's all over the news.

I've barely processed the first message that two new ones pop up.

Prisoners who have evaded are shooting people in the streets.

STAY IN SCHOOL. DO YOU HEAR ME???

My heart beats madly inside my chest as my fingers remain frozen unable to type an answer. A last message from my mother appears on the screen.

I'm in a meeting so I can't call you. I'll message you the picture and the number of the friend who's coming to get you.

When the messages finally stop coming, reality slowly catches up to me and I feel something cold dripping on my feet. I look down to realize that I've dropped my fresco.

***Chapter Endnotes***

*"The bastards set fire to my paradise". Lyrics from the song "Les Salauds" by Alpha Blondy released in 2007.

*Fresco. Also known abroad as snow cones, a dessert made of shaved ice and syrup of different flavors served in plastic cups. In Haiti, we call it fresco. It has different names in various countries.

*Kleren: An Haitian alcoholic beverage resembling Rhum.