My mood of exaltation continued until the telephone rang, and Keita told me his mother had had a heart attack and was on her way to the hospital. Quarter of an hour later he called me to say that she had died.
We did travel to Bamako together that day, but Keita’s mother travelled in a hearse. The funeral took place the following day.
I had prayed that Keita’s mother would not survive him. She has lost two daughters and two sons. Keita was her last remaining son, and her favourite child. She died happy and instantly, having spent the last two months by his side in Segou, and having seen him starting to wallk again. I remember when I first met her she asked me ‘ if you take him with you to your country, will he come back able to walk?’ I said I would try my best.