Kreative Schreibaufgabe im Englisch-Unterricht
Im Englisch-LK der Q2 wird u.a. die Kurzgeschichte „The embassy of Cambodia“ von Zadie Smith gelesen. Sie enthält 21 Kapitel, die alle mit dem Stand eines gedachten Badminton-Spiels überschrieben sind: von 0-1 bis 0-21.
Als einen von drei frei wählbaren Arbeitsaufträgen schrieben einige Schüler_innen ein weiteres Kapitel aus der Perspektive der Protagonistin Fatou, einer Migrantin aus der Elfenbeinküste, die als junge Erwachsene über Ghana und Italien nach London kommt und sich dort ohne gesicherten Aufenthaltsstatus ihre Existenz sichern muss.
Hier ist der Text von Martha Grant Donkor aus dem Englisch-LK von Frau Shenemann-Wolf:
1-0: New Beginning
An hour later, still sitting there soaking in the rain, I attentively watched the badminton match start over again. I assumed that it had started over, because the players seemed to have changed ends. I quietly observed the badminton match. That was the only thing I was able to do at that moment. I still couldn’t believe what had just happened.
„They actually fired me“, I repeatedly thought. „I saved their daughter’s life and they had the audacity to fire me! What did I ever do to deserve this?”, I thought. “Why am I the one who has to go through all of this?” I was starting to lose hope. I thought that I was destined to live a difficult life. I envied everyone that was walking past me. Everyone seemed so normal. Like they were able to fit into society. “Would I ever be able to live like them?” I thought. I started to doubt myself. I usually try to keep my hopes up, but at that moment I started to lose hope. I was so lost in my thoughts, that I didn’t even realise what was going on in the match. “Pock, smash”. The gentle player seemed to be playing more defensive than usual. “Pock, smash” the aggressive player was playing more aggressively than usual. I felt bad for the gentle player. “Why is he even bothering at this point?”, I thought. I mean, the gentle player hadn’t been able to score a single point. “There’s no reason to keep going, just give up already! There is no point in trying something that you know you cannot achieve. Stop being so naive!”, I said out loud. I don’t know why that badminton match started to bother me so much. I couldn’t bear to watch the gentle player lose again. All I wanted at that point was for Andrew to finally pick me up. I looked at the time. “What?! It’s already 6 am? He should be coming soon, I suppose.” But minutes passed, and he was still nowhere to be found. I wasn’t in the best condition, due to the rain. I also had no money nor did I have a phone, to communicate with Andrew or get a taxi instead. I was blindly trusting him. And he didn’t show up. “What if he decided not to pick me up, so that I wouldn’t bother him?” I thought. A lot of thoughts were running through my mind. I had mixed feelings. On one hand, I wanted to cry and give up but on the other hand, I didn’t want to jump to conclusions.
I was completely relying on him and I couldn’t afford another disappointment. Not now. Not ever. Suddenly, I started thinking about my first trip to Accra, Ghana. I remember my father telling me that everything would be better, once we reached Ghana. “What a lie” I thought. What if I never left Ivory Coast? Would my life be better than it is now?” I speculated. “In Ivory Coast, I didn’t have a lot of money but at least I was happier than I am now.” I was starting to get overwhelmed by my emotions. I felt left behind. Like there wasn’t a single person who actually cared about me. I started to miss my father. “Why can’t you be by my side, dad? '' I thought. “You left me alone in this very cruel world.” That was a very dark moment in my life. I started panicking. Would I be stuck here for the rest of my life? I even started thinking about going back to the Derawals to beg them for a second chance. “Smash, pock”. My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by that unusual sound. “Did the players change ends again?” I thought. But no. This didn’t have anything to do with the player’s positions. Before I was able to grasp the reason behind this unusual rhythm, I unexpectedly saw a hand reach out to me. “I am so sorry, Fatou! I was stuck in traffic and wasn’t able to get here on time. Please forgive me!“ I was at a loss for words. The only thing I was able to do was to burst into tears and hug the person in front of me. I usually don’t cry that easily, but my emotions got the best of me. „You idiot! You scared me for a second. I was about to lose hope!” “Don’t worry Fatou, this is the start of your new life. I would never abandon you. Did I not tell you to stop giving the Devil your anger?”
By Martha Grant Donkor (12c)