Ngũgĩ Thiong - Wizard of the Crow

The sender was Machokali. Sikiokuu was sick to his stomach. Was the Ruler dying? What if the Ruler were to anoint Machokali as his legitimate successor? The thought was too horrible to contemplate, and in his own mind Sikiokuu started planning to seize power.

He thought he had better read the full text of the message carefully to see what might be hidden between the lines. He was dumbstruck. For there, in the main body of the e-mail, was the name Wizard of the Crow. He could not believe what his eyes were reading.

Sikiokuu was to send for the Wizard of the Crow, issue him a diplomatic passport, help him secure a visa, and put him on the next available plane to New York.

He felt paralyzed. His lieutenants, Kahiga and Njoya, had forewarned him of troubles unimaginable. He recalled his resolution. He sat back in his chair, stared at the ceiling, and tugged at his earlobes meditatively.

After going home, Tajirika acted like a person cured of one malady only to become victim of another even deadlier one. He had an irresistible yearning to beat his wife. Every night he dreamed of it, woke up in the morning with the thought of it, and spent the whole day nursing every little hurt into a provocation that would justify it. Still, nothing in Vinjinia’s words and actions warranted a beating.

Tajirika was surprised to find that Vinjinia had run all his businesses efficiently. She had kept good records. If anything, under her stewardship, the businesses had actually grown and had attracted new clients and orders. All in all, she had come through as if she had been a businesswoman all her life. Instead of making Tajirika happy, this faultless performance served to increase the doubts he already had about her. Where had this new Vinjinia been hiding before this? To catch her in a lie, he tried every ruse, springing questions on her at random, but she would answer them all simply and clearly.

“Okay, you can now resume your place in the kitchen,” he told her without a word of thanks.

She had run the home as efficiently. And in her accounts of her social ins and outs he saw no inconsistencies. Left alone to his thoughts, Tajirika concluded that all was a show; Vinjinia’s supposed competence and wifely rectitude were nothing but hypocrisy. Was this not the picture she had always presented to him before his abduction? The face of a person without too many questions about this or that? The face of loyal silence? But a woman who, while presenting him with the wifely ideal, had still found time and energy to consort with shameful dancers? And yet not once during all the years of wedded bliss and procreation had she once mentioned them. If anything, she had expressed only contempt toward tradition and ritual performance. How, then, had she come to know these women to the extent of being photographed together in public? When did she start keeping their company? Where and when did she find the time to meet with them? At what time of day or night?

Tajirika’s doubts and questions only added to that irresistible urge to rain blows on Vinjinia’s back, and all that restrained him was Sikiokuu’s temporary ban on wife beating. Lacking the means to quench his thirst for blood, Tajirika became increasingly frustrated, sullen and silent most of the time. He did not want to talk about his experience in prison for fear of fueling his anger toward his wife, leading to forbidden consequences. He sought safety in muteness.

His brutal, unrelenting silence was hurtful to Vinjinia, denied as she was an opportunity to share with him her trials, tribulations, and partial triumph over the twin evils of Kaniürü and Sikiokuu. She longed to tell him how she had looked for him everywhere, in police precincts, hospitals, mortuaries, and how she had received help from the Wizard of the Crow and some mysterious women dancers whom she had met neither before nor after. The complete breakdown in communication frustrated her even more than the anger she still felt at discovering his readiness to denounce her, in an unfinished press statement that she came across after her release from prison.

When Vinjinia received the call from the police that Tajirika had been released, she had felt unalloyed joy, not because her anger had subsided but because she saw his return home as an opportunity for them to repair their lives. She had expected him to be pleased with her success in running his business despite her lack of experience. She had thought that, at least, money would talk. But even a sizable bank account was unable to unlock the man’s heart. She went all out to please him but found it impossible to unburden his soul. Why? Why this silence?

One morning she made him a special breakfast of pancakes, eggs, and sausages. Without looking at her, Tajirika stretched his hands to take the tray but failed, and the tray fell to the ground, creating an unsightly mess. Vinjinia could no longer keep her mouth shut.

“How have I wronged you, Titus? What have I done to you to make you so bloated with anger? And when you open your mouth it is only to ask questions that have no legs or arms. What did they do to you in prison? How did they manage to turn you into a dumb creature?”

If Tajirika had so much as spoken a word he would have beaten Vinjinia mercilessly, but recalling his contract with Sikiokuu, he summoned all his inner strength not to strike her. He ran out of the house to the garage, got into his car, and drove to the office. He was aflame with anger. He had never heard Vinjinia speak to him so brazenly. Her outburst, however, did finally reveal her hidden self. This Vinjinia was the one who had met secretly with the women dancers. Oh, yes, at last! He felt that if he did not beat her today, his body would break into pieces. He had to speak to Sikiokuu. He reached for the telephone.

“Why are you calling me so early, Titus?” Sikiokuu asked jovially.

“I want permission. Now.”

“For what?”

“I’m not in the mood to play games!”

“What are you talking about?”

“I need to beat my wife. Otherwise anger will choke me to death.”

“Why? Did you find another man topping her?”

“No. It is not that. Please allow me.”

“Titus! What are you talking about?”

“You told me not to beat my wife without first consulting you.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Sikiokuu said vaguely. Then he recalled the famous photographs and their role in the confessions. “Did you quarrel about those photos?” Sikiokuu asked, now alarmed.

“No, but…”

“Then don’t you think about it, Titus. Leave her alone. Or better, fuck her instead of fucking up matters of state security. You are to uncover her connections to the subversives; patience, my brother. Don’t rush into anything you’ll regret. Better wait for the return of the Ruler and that arrogant enemy of the State, Machokali. Fortunately, you don’t have long to wait…”

“When are they coming back?”

“Anytime now. I am waiting for word from America. That’s why I’m here so early; I had just turned on my computer when you called. Oh, yes, there is something on the screen… wait a minute… What? What’s the meaning of this?”

Those were the last words Tajirika heard. He continued holding the receiver to his ear, saying, Hello? Hello, wondering who had disconnected them. Or had the minister decided to end their conversation abruptly? He hung up and redialed time and again, but the line remained busy. Tajirika did not know what to do.

He decided to go to Mars Cafe for a cup of coffee to calm down and achieve some clarity. Just outside the door, he bought the Eldares Times. He sat in a corner waiting for his order of coffee, eggs, and bacon, and glanced at the newspaper. Bitter reflections came between him and the front page. How dare Sikiokuu end our conversation without first hearing all I have to say? How dare he cut me off so rudely without hearing my pain? The humiliation was so intense that he felt dizzy; his eyes clouded with tears.