Ngũgĩ Thiong - Wizard of the Crow

“The loading of the Ruler onto the plane indeed proved to be a wonder yet unseen. The pushing and squeezing, the huffing and puffing! True! Haki ya Mungu!” A.C. was later to say. “When I saw how we were struggling and worrying ourselves to death, I asked myself, If the Wizard of the Crow were here, would we find ourselves in this mess? I am sure he would have found an easier way of getting the body onto the plane. To be honest, I had not given up hope. So during the ordeal I kept looking back behind me in the expectation that I would see him running across the tarmac to help us.

“Just before we boarded the plane, I tried to talk to Machokali about the unknown fate of the Wizard of the Crow. I showed him a newspaper I had bought, in which every other story seemed to involve the arrest or the shooting or the imprisonment of a black male. And hostility to immigrants was not unknown. Didn’t he think we should consult with American authorities about the wizard? Machokali was unmoved. Let him rot in an American jail, Machokali grunted back, and added that he would have nothing more to do with sorcerers and their disappearing acts. But for my part, I never stopped worrying and thinking about him. True! Haki ya Mungu!”

Machokali felt tight as he got into the same plane with the Ruler, Dr. Wilfred Kaboca, Dr. Luminous Karamu-Mbu, and A.C. and the security men, and it was only when they were aloft that he regained his composure. He took off his jacket, folded it twice, and placed it on the empty seat beside him. Now he would have the time to ponder things in their proper perspective. In all his years as Minister for Foreign Affairs, he had never been on a mission plagued with so many twists and turns, and he did not know what had complicated matters more: the Ruler’s special condition or the Global Bank’s dragging its foot. The Ruler’s illness had made it impossible for him to take initiatives to enhance his and the Ruler’s advantages, including the United Nations General Assembly address. But that was just as well, he now thought, as Marching to Heaven was on hold until the money from the Global Bank was forthcoming. Machokali saw a ray of hope in the fact that the door to further negotiations had not been slammed shut. The return to Aburlria would buy time to enliven the scheme without his having to worry constantly that the Ruler might explode into bits in a foreign land.

During the Ruler’s marathon talk to his ministers at the hotel, Machokali had been able to discern, in the thicket of the verbiage, further arguments for Marching to Heaven. Upon his return to Eldares, he would convene a group of leading economic experts from the business world and academia to embellish the Ruler’s case, the better to impress the Global Bank. He might even hire additional experts from America and Europe to bolster the Aburlrian team. As he dwelled on the matter, he reached for a handkerchief in his jacket pocket and felt the folded piece of paper handed to him at the reception desk. He was feeling good inside and he did not want to bother with this triviality, so he crushed it in his palm. He was about to throw it away but thought: Who was this who had left a handwritten message for me? Could it be Mgenzi? Yunice Immaculate Mgenzi, the Deputy Ambassador of Aburlria in Washington?

Machokali never ceased to marvel at the Ruler’s way with women, especially this woman, who stopped being an ardent follower of Mao Tse-Tung to become a faithful lapdog of the Ruler!

When they first arrived in America, Yunice Mgenzi had a few private sessions with the Ruler in his chamber, some lasting a whole night. But since the onset of the Ruler’s malady, the two had not seen each other. Machokali and the other ministers had decided that it was not a good idea to allow any woman to see the Ruler in his present condition. Yunice Immaculate Mgenzi had kept on phoning and asking to speak to the Ruler, compelling Machokali to concoct all sorts of stories about how the Ruler was totally immersed in delicate matters of international diplomacy. In the end he told her that the Ruler had said that he himself would call her back, and even then she threatened to come in person. What if the Ruler and Mgenzi later found out that he had not passed on her note to the Rulerr

Machokali quickly unfolded it: information was power.

The four lines did not make sense. He turned the note over to see if there was more. Nothing, so he read it again. I have no pass. Take care of yourself. The country is pregnant. What it will give birth to, nobody knows. It was initialed WOC. The Wizard of the Crow, of course. No pass! So he had gone out and found himself unable to get back to the Ruler’s suite! Machokali admitted to himself that he, the minister, was to blame for the wizard’s disappearance. As he scrutinized the wizard’s enigmatic note, he wondered whether it was addressed to him personally or to him in his capacity as a senior cabinet minister who was to bring it to the attention of the Ruler. He wished that the other ministers were on his plane, for he would have sought their views. What if he suppressed the contents of the note only to have the Wizard of the Crow suddenly reappear to claim that he had left him a formula for the cure? This might even be a trap laid by his political enemy, Sikiokuu, using the sorcerer to carry out his evil designs. He had to cleverly unburden himself to the Ruler. He would gauge his mood and might even broach the subject of the return of the queuing mania, and again voice his fears about the possibilities of a coup. The Ruler would thereby be forced to focus not on the disastrous visit to America but on Sikiokuu’s treachery.

He went to the section reserved for the Ruler. The engineers had been unable to devise a chair or a bed large enough to contain him, so the floor was all he had.

“And what do you propose to do about your Marching to Heaven?” the Ruler asked, without giving Machokali a chance to say what had brought him before his august presence.

“The Global Bank did not slam the door completely” Machokali responded. “What we need is a moment to arrange everything you told us into a manageable memorandum. I was thinking that as soon as we get back to Aburlria, and with your blessings and guidance, I shall put together a task force from the business community, the University of Eldares, and a few universities abroad, with the sole duty of putting your views and vision into written form. Then we shall send the memorandum to the Global Bank. Memorandum Addendum.”

“Memorandum Addendum,” the Ruler repeated, clearly pleased with the way the phrase rolled off his tongue. Machokali felt as if he had been congratulated.

“The last word, we shall tell them,” Machokali said in a triumphant voice. “Our last stand,” added the Ruler. “Do it as soon as we get home.”

“Your word is law unto me,” Machokali said humbly.

“Say, Do or Die!” added the Ruler.

“Do or Die!” Machokali chimed in. “That’s your real name.”

“But these directors of the Global Bank are acting as if they have never heard ofthat name,” said the Ruler.

Machokali now saw an opening to bring up the wizard’s note. With a casual “by the way” he asked the Ruler if he still remembered the man who helped unlock his voice. But neither by word nor by look did the Ruler show any sign of remembrance of what Machokali was talking about, a time when words got stuck in his throat, let alone any awareness of anybody having treated him. It was as if his entire ordeal of speechlessness had never occurred. Machokali had to ask again, and this time he made sure he mentioned the name Wizard of the Crow.

“A sorcerer?” the Ruler interrupted him. “Why do you people keep on pestering me with questions of sorcerers, even in America? The other day a policeman came to talk to me about sorcery. And now you. Is it because you think that sorcery is responsible for the queuing and husband beating back home? Not to worry. Just wait and see! We are going to take care of business.”