Ngũgĩ Thiong - Wizard of the Crow

“Yes,” said Tajirika, unsure of what exactly he was prepared to repeat.

“Let’s now summarize and agree on what you have told me willingly, freely, without any coercion from anybody whatsoever. And when you go to write down your confession before Njoya and Kahiga, you will not deviate from the summary. This is what you have told me: At different times and occasions you heard Machokali express his longing for the highest political office in the land, often with the conditional if the Ruler were not there… etc. This shocked and caused you so much anguish that when you tried to recall his sentiments and their implications, your larynx rebelled and refused to give words to those thoughts. When you recovered from your malady of words, you tried to cover up the real reason by saying that you had simply been expressing a wish to be white. White-ache. But we know what the word white stands for. Besides, this was not even your own wish: you were regurgitating what had already been thought out and spoken by others cleverer and more cunning than you. You were actually covering for your special friend. Even when you recovered from the malady, Machokali told you to continue pretending that you were still afflicted, keeping those thoughts alive in your mind so that you would continue to be his surrogate.”

“You forgot to add that he did not want the queuing to come to an end, for the queues were very important to the Ruler.”

“What a friend you have in this man! So he claimed that it was the Ruler who needed the queues? That it was he who sparked the mania?”

“Not exactly in those words,” Tajirika tried to clarify.

“You seem to be very keen on defending the actions of your friend.”

“Oh, no, no.”

“Then you should keep the name of the Ruler out of this. What Machokali told you is that you should continue claiming to be ill so that the queuing could continue, or words to that effect?”

“That’s correct.”

“You see? So what you are trying to say is that in asking you to continue the charade he had two aims: to multiply the queues so that when people got tired of them they would riot, and to advance his ambition for the highest office in the land by way of your own, his surrogate’s, thoughts. Let’s wrap up the summary of your confession. You told me that before Machokali left for America he and you had a secret meeting at the Mars Cafe. It was then that you asked that you become part of the delegation to the USA because, after all, you were the chairman of Marching to Heaven, but Machokali refused even to consider it. The vehemence with which he refused surprised you at first, but soon it was clear why. For, a few minutes later, he asked you whether in his absence you would become his eyes and ears in Aburlria. In short, he wanted you to be the nucleus of alternative intelligence loyal to him. But you, as a good and loyal citizen, did not say yes or no, because you did not want such a thought to foul your mind. You knew very well that it was only the Ruler who had the right to run an intelligence network. Now you knew why he had appointed you chairman of Marching to Heaven. You were to become his surrogate or representative in the project, for he was more or less sure that in the future he himself would be in charge. As time went by, you became so concerned about this matter that you demanded to see me because of my reputation as a loyal and responsible member of the Ruler’s government.”

Tajirika started seeing Machokali through Sikiokuu’s eyes. That Marching to Heaven was intended eventually to come under the control of Machokali struck him as being especially true. So that was why Machokali had come up with the idea of the birthday gift in the first place and later pretended that it was the members of the Birthday Committee who had initiated the idea? What a friend, Tajirika thought, amazed, as if coming to terms with the real Machokali for the first time. Machokali had even made him think that Sikiokuu was an enemy. In his moment of greatest crisis the person he had thought a friend had not even bothered to call him from America out of courtesy, and the person he had thought an enemy was the one who had come to his aid. Sikiokuu had not only gotten the Wizard of the Crow off his back, but had also found a clever way of getting Tajirika off the hook for refusing to obey the summons, and now, more important, he had even started thinking for him. How restful it was to surrender one’s mind to another person, he sighed with relief. Exhausted, broken in mind and spirit, overwhelmed by everything that had befallen him, Tajirika felt not only that the summary gave a true account, but that Sikiokuu had kindly taken onto himself the burden that had been weighing on Tajirika’s mind.

“Thank you. You have straightened me out,” Tajirika said.

“No need for thanks, this or that. I am only doing what comes naturally to me. Besides, this is a very serious matter, and the security of the land is the collective responsibility of all who love the Buler and his works. Tajirika, I will personally let the Buler know that he is very fortunate to have exemplary citizens like you. Now, Titus, listen very carefully. Just now you talked about my straightening you out. Whose summary is this? Does it represent exactly what you want to confess before the authorized government witnesses?”

“Of course,” said Tajirika. “What is in the summary are my exact words.”

“Did I induce you with threats of violence or any other form of coercion or seduction, like drinks?”

“Oh, no, although just now I wouldn’t mind a drink.”

“In a while, Titus. Business first. Celebration afterward. Now, I want you to remember everything in the summary. You will make two confessions. The first will deal with the question of queuing and Machokali’s connection with its origin and development. If I were you I would leave out the stuff about the Wizard of the Crow coming to your office and looking for work, because there is no evidence linking Machokali and the sorcerer. What you should stress mostly is Machokali’s insistence on your pretending to be ill to give the queues a chance to spread. This particular confession will go to the chairman of the Commission of Inquiry into the Queuing Mania. The other confession will deal with the connection between Machokali’s ambition and your malady, how in fact your malady embodied his lust for the highest office in the land, confirmed by his instructions to you to set up his own intelligence network. This confession will be top secret, a state secret, reserved only for the eyes of the Ruler-well, and mine, too.”

Tajirika was most pleased that his confession would be a top secret, a state secret. His face brightened and his eyes were radiant.

“One more thing. I will not be with you when you make these confessions. I don’t want you to ever say that I had somehow coerced you into making them. But know that as soon as you have made and signed your statements, you will be free to go. And I assure you that if your confessions conform to the summary, the Ruler will never forget the work you have done for the State. Your future is secure, Mr. Tajirika. He might even consider you for a ministerial post. Maybe not a full cabinet post, but a junior rank.”

“Me, a minister? A good joke, but thank you from the bottom of my heart,” Tajirika said with a touch of emotion in his voice.

“Don’t mention it,” Sikiokuu said. “The pleasure is mine. As to your confessions, my men, Njoya and Kahiga, are at your disposal. You can trust them. They are professional editors and witnesses.”

A few hours later, Tajirika’s extraordinary admissions were locked in a security safe in Sikiokuu’s office. Sikiokuu stroked his earlobes, looking at the safe, savoring his victory over his nemesis. In there, he had more than enough dirt on Machokali.