Chris Abani - GraceLand

“Why?”

“Because though dey hate us, de rich still have to look at us. Try as dey might, we don’t go away.”

Elvis laughed, triggering Redemption, and soon they were gasping for breath.

“Ah, Redemption, you are funny O!”

“True talk, true talk.”

They heard someone pull the needle off the record that was playing and an argument ensue. The record that had been playing, Sir Victor Uwaifo’s “Joromi,” was really popular. One of the patrons no doubt disagreed. Moments later the needle crackled hesitantly before the new song belted out. It was an old Bobby Benson classic called “Taxi Driver,” and Elvis and Redemption heard the patrons inside singing along, their initial resentment forgotten.

“Dat na song O!” Redemption said.

“Uhu,” Elvis answered, joining in with the singing. “‘If you marry taxi driver, I don’t care.’”

“‘Marry market woman, I don’t care,’” Redemption sang. “Who play dat sound?” he asked as the tune came to a stop.

“Bobby Benson, although I think Wole Soyinka wrote it for him in the fifties.”

“Wole de man of letters?” Redemption asked.

“Yes.”

“Wonderful.”

They lapsed into an easy silence, while the record player in the buka went back to playing “Joromi.”

After a while, Redemption spoke. “So listen, Elvis, time for serious talk. De people who we wrap de cocaine for, well, dey have moved onto anoder business.”

“Which kind?”

“I don’t know de details too well. But dey want us to follow with some people and deliver something to Togo.”

“Togo? That is two countries away! I don’t even have a passport.”

“You no go need it. Trust me.”

“So what will we be delivering? I am not swallowing any cocaine,” Elvis said.

“I don’t know what it is, but is not cocaine. Dat dey send to States and oder places, and anyway dey have left de cocaine business.”

“Is it that you don’t know, or that you don’t want to know?”

“Dey are paying five thousand naira each for us to follow deliver something. I don’t need to know what it is, neider do you.”

“I want to know what I am delivering,” Elvis said.

“We are not delivering. Just following, like escort.”

“Even escorts are liable if there is trouble.”

“Which kin’ of trouble, eh? Dat is why we are dere. To stop de trouble.”

“So in fact we will be bodyguards.”

“Escort.”

“As they say in States, ‘You say potato, I say putahtoh.’”

“How do you know what dey say in States?”

“I saw it in a movie. Relax. Just because I don’t want to follow you blindly does not mean you should bite my head off.”

“Who is biting? Anyway, it is better we are all blind, because in de land of de blind, de one-eyed man is mad.”

“Fine.”

“Okay, your loss.”

“Fine.”

“Damn dis shit. Look O, Elvis, you have change towards me, why?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Every time you speak too much grammar, I know you dey lie. Why can’t you trust me?”

“Why should I trust you when you want me to take a risk without telling me the whole story?” Elvis said.

“Only a dead man tells everything, only a fool asks.”

“Are you threatening me?” Elvis asked.

“Use your teeth to count your tongue.”

“The King was right about you!”

Redemption paused, beer halfway to his open mouth. Putting it down slowly, he turned to Elvis.

“Dat dirty beggar?” he asked. “What did he say about me?”

“Promise me you won’t hurt him,” Elvis replied.

“You should worry I don’t hurt you. What did you guys talk about me?”

“Nothing.”

“Elvis.”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t make me call your name again,” Redemption said softly.

“He warned me about you and said you were leading me to a life in crime.”

“Are you a child to be led? What did you tell him?”

“Nothing.”

“If you told him about dat cocaine …”

“I told him nothing. He said he knows you from around and he is trying to show me a different path.”

“A different path? Dis is how you repay me for trying to help you? Betraying me to some crazy beggar? How does he know me, eh?”

Elvis took a deep breath. “I know you are trying to help me, Redemption. But he is trying to save me.”

“Really? He is trying to save you?”

“Yes.”

“Well, what do you know about your savior? Who is he? Where does he come from? Why is he so willing to save you? Why can’t he save himself from de street? Answer me!”

Elvis remained silent, wishing he hadn’t brought it up.

“Dis man who is trying to save you does not tell you about himself? And yet you say I want you to follow me blindly? You are already blind.”

“I know his name, and that he is part of a theater group. I know that he got cut along the face while doing an antigovernment play—”

“Dat scar on his face has been dere since I was small boy,” Redemption interrupted.

“What?”

“Listen, Mr. Blind Man. I know dat beggar better dan you. He was my master one time.”

“Your master? I don’t understand.”

“You are a small blind boy. Dere are many things you do not understand.”

“About what?”

“Me. De King. Lagos. Life,” Redemption said, sounding tired.

“Then tell me. Why is everybody keeping secrets from me?” Elvis asked.

“Drink your beer.”

“No, tell me!”

“I told you before. Only dead people tell everything.”

“At least tell how he was your master?”

“Ask him yourself. If he is trying to save you, let him tell you. But dis I will tell you. De King is not your father, he cannot be, will not be. One day you will become a man and stop dis small-boy behavior.”

Redemption stood up to leave.

“Tell me what to believe,” Elvis said.

“Tell yourself. If you want to get involve in de job I told you, find me before next week. If not, den it is fine. But you must choose.”

“That is what the King told me,” Elvis said.

“Den maybe he is trying to save you after all.”

BLACK-EYED BEAN POTAGE

(Igbo: Ji Na Agwa)

INGREDIENTS

Black-eyed beans

Yam

Salt

Palm oil

Crayfish

Hot peppers

Cooked beef or chicken and its broth

Utazi

Dried fish

PREPARATION

Wash the black-eyed beans and leave to soak overnight. This will lift the skins off Most people don’t know about the skins, but if left on, they turn the food black and can cause too much gas. Sift the skins off This should be easy, as they would have risen to the top of the water. Peel the yam and chop it into medium-sized chunks and wash the starch from it.

Next, put the beans in a pot and leave on a medium heat for about half an hour, checking the water level to prevent burning. Also put the yam in a separate pot with enough water to cover it. Sprinkle in some salt and leave to cook until yam is soft, checking always for water level.

Take the pot of beans off the flame and pour the beans into a colander. Wash under a cold tap, then put them back in the pot and return it to the flame. Add a couple of dessert spoons of palm oil and add the crayfish, salt and the peppers. Also add the broth from the cooked meat with some water and the yam. Leave on a medium heat for about fifteen minutes before adding your spices, such as the utazi.

Last, add the meat (which should have been precooked) and the dried fish. Leave to cook for another twenty minutes. Serve with spinach boiled with spices and onions. Gari (fried cassava powder) steeped in water, milk and sugar makes an excellent side dish.