Ngũgĩ Thiong - Wizard of the Crow

“Machokali?” the Ruler asked again.

“Yes.”

Silence. Sikiokuu stole a quick glance to see what the Ruler was thinking, but the only thing he noticed on the otherwise immobile face was a twitch, one of those involuntary reactions to fear of pain, and that twitch, together with the next question, How do you know? prompted Sikiokuu not to respond with words but to open his briefcase and take out two voluminous typescripts, “The Kaniürü Report on the Origins of the Queuing Mania and Its Possible Connection with Anti-government Activities” and “A Secret Report on Acts of Treason.” He dramatically placed them on the table, his cheeks still puffed with anger at the presumed traitor.

“Everything is in there,” he said, pointing at the two volumes, “and it might be a good idea for me to go away and let you read them for yourself,” he added, knowing that the Ruler had not much patience with lengthy written reports and would no doubt ask him for a summary. Sikiokuu was therefore surprised when the Ruler stretched out an arm to receive the two volumes, and the minister nearly tripped over himself as he rushed to hand them over. The Ruler took one, leafed through it, put it down, and did the same with the other.

“Are you sure that all your allegations are true?” said the Ruler.

“I swear before you, the Almighty on Earth, and to the One in

Heaven that the people who compiled these two reports are absolutely loyal and trustworthy,” said Sikiokuu, pulling his right earlobe in confirmation before adding, “Even a bank could entrust them its keys.”

“Who are they?”

“John Kaniürü, deputy chairman of Marching to Heaven and chairman of the Ruler’s Commission of Inquiry into the Queuing Mania. The second volume is by Elijah Njoya and Peter Kahiga, both first-rate intelligence officers.”

“Would you repeat these charges in the presence of the accused?” asked the Ruler, fixing his eyes on Sikiokuu.

“I am not afraid of traitors,” Sikiokuu said, this time pulling both earlobes.

The Ruler sent for Machokali.

“And do you understand that I don’t want Machokali to know of the existence of these reports?”

“I understand, Your Mighty Excellency. Top secret. They’re between you and me.”

“Give me a brief summary of the main findings of the reports before the traitor arrives.”

Sikiokuu would have preferred not to have a personal confrontation with Machokali but eagerly took advantage of the invitation to fill the Ruler’s ears with poison to ensure that the Ruler viewed everything through Sikiokuu’s eyes.

“The bug that bites one’s back is carried in what one wears,” the Ruler said, greeting Machokali with barely hidden sarcasm. “Have you ever heard of that proverb?”

“Oh, yes. It is a well-known Swahili proverb. Kikulacho kimo nguoni tnwako.”

“And do you know why the Waswahili coined it?”

“Well …” Machokali said and paused, not quite knowing where the Ruler was going with the question.

“Sit on that chair and face your mate,” the Ruler told him. “That way you will soon learn the proverb’s true meaning. And you, Sikiokuu, say what you have to say about Machokali to his face, just to teach you all that I don’t rely solely on what is spoken behind a person’s back.”

Sikiokuu now told the story of treason as culled from Tajirika’s confession, but without once mentioning the source, and accused his rival of being behind the recent queuing mania and planning to create an intelligence network reporting to him directly.

“This plot was hatched at a secret meeting at the Mars Cafe just before Machokali accompanied you to America,” he finished.

At first Machokali hoped that the Ruler would see through the patent fabrication and dismiss it as mere nonsense, but when his eyes met those of the Ruler, awash in bitterness, he simply fell on his knees and began swearing to God in Heaven that he had no connection whatsoever to the queuing mania. He had never dreamt of taking power by any means. The allegation of a rival intelligence network issued from Sikiokuu’s envy and hatred.

“Tajirika is my witness!” Machokali said in desperation but confident that Tajirika, owner and CEO of Eldares Modern Construction and Real Estate and chairman of Marching to Heaven, and his dear friend, would fully back him up.

“Let’s call him,” Sikiokuu said with alacrity, and this readiness made Machokali uneasy, though he was still confident that his friend Tajirika would not let him down.

“I will certainly send for him,” said the Ruler. “It is now late. My men will make sure that Tajirika is here the first thing tomorrow morning. But as I don’t want any of you to interfere with the witness, both of you will spend the night here. You don’t mind sharing a bedroom in the State House, do you?”

Sikiokuu and Machokali were locked in a room with displays of the bones and skeletons of past enemies of the Ruler adorning the walls. After a while lights were turned off and they found themselves in total darkness. The room was cold and miserable; they were paralyzed by terror, as they could not tell whether or not they had already been condemned to death, with their skeletons slated to become part of the grisly decor. They did not speak a word to each other, each huddling in his own corner, at the mercy of his own thoughts and imaginings that the spirits of the dead were present. Machokali was first to sense a silhouette in the dark, and as he thrust his hand in the air, he pinched what he was sure was a spirit. Sikiokuu felt the pinch and he too assumed that it was one of the spirits, and as he thrust out his hands to ward off another pinch he pinched something himself, and this confirmed his worst fears. In the morning, each one was relieved that he was still alive and well. Now Machokali and Sikiokuu prayed that Tajirika had been found, for, apart from the fact that each expected support from his testimony, they did not want to spend another night in the company of emissaries from the underworld.

The police whisked Tajirika from his Golden Heights residence to the State House early that morning and ushered him into a room with white drawn curtains. They did not tell him why he had been summoned, and, though he had all sorts of conjectures in his head, the last thing he expected was to see Machokali and Sikiokuu enter the room barely minutes after his arrival. He did not know how to react or whom he should greet first, so he just said good morning without addressing anybody in particular.

Neither answered back, both avoided eye contact with him. He quickly figured that his confession was at stake here. He tried to work out what he would say if asked about it, only to come to a mental cul-de-sac, for quite apart from the fact that he could not possibly recall each and every word, he had no idea which of the two ministers was in favor with the Ruler. He decided to be as vague as he could when answering the first few questions put to him, the better to find out.

The curtains parted and Tajirika saw before his very eyes a human monstrosity emerge. Tajirika was about to bolt but when he saw that Machokali and Sikiokuu took this apparition in stride, he took courage and sat still. The Ruler must have eaten a lot of steaks in America, Tajirika thought to himself, recognizing a semblance of the Almighty Ruler in the figure that now sat in judgment.

In the dock were Machokali and Sikiokuu, who sat opposite each other; an observer could not tell the difference between the prosecutor and the accused, because their faces were equally solemn. Tajirika sat in the middle, facing the judge directly. Inwardly, the three waited for Tajirika’s words as if he were an oracle.