Ngũgĩ Thiong - Wizard of the Crow

The Ruler pointed a finger at Tajirika and said to him solemnly, “You are a resourceful man, Governor. You were once stricken with the malady of words and you found a cure. A person who can take over a whole armed camp with a bucket of shit and piss as his only weapon can surely find the sorcerer I need. Governor, over to you!”

Weeks after his elevation, Tajirika could still not believe that he was now governor of the Central Bank of Aburlria. He could not be blamed for being a little cautious about accepting his new status, for his fortunes had swung from one end of the pendulum to the other, time and again, since the Wizard of the Crow came into his life on that fateful evening at Eldares Modern Construction and Real Estate to look for a job he clearly did not need.

Many were the times he had found himself saluting his reflection in a mirror-Hello, Governor, are you really he? The sound of the word governor thrilled him, recalling as it did the long line of colonial governors of territorial Aburlria. What had started as a playful act of self-affirmation now became a need, and more and more he found himself conversing with his reflection, especially on matters he could never talk about with anybody else. Hello, Governor, what shall we do today? he would say to the image in the mirror as he brushed his teeth or tied his tie. And just before departing from the house: Bye-bye, Governor. And in the evening: I am back, Governor. How was your day at the office? And any of these lines could trigger a dialogue with himself in the mirror.

So when the Ruler gave Tajirika the task of finding a sorcerer to exorcise the evil blocking the voice of the Wizard of the Crow, he was back at the mirror, speaking to his reflection.

“Where shall I start? Should I go along the streets, stopping people and saying, Excuse me, I am the new governor of the Central Bank. Can you please tell me where I can find a sorcerer? A bit embarrassing, wouldn’t you say, for the governor of the Central Bank to go about the streets of Eldares asking for a witch doctor?”

Many Aburlrians did not believe that people, except the aged, died of natural causes. They believed that all untimely deaths were caused by witchcraft. Were Tajirika to openly look for witch doctors, might he himself not be deemed an agent of death and held responsible for harm suffered by others, Machokali, for instance? And suddenly he had a vision of being blamed for all deaths in Aburlria, and he shuddered at his foolishness. He stared helplessly at the mirror, not realizing that he was shouting: “Governor, what shall I do? What shall we do to get the Wizard of the Crow a cure without putting ourselves in danger?”

“What danger?” Vinjinia, who had just come into the bathroom, asked him. “Why are you talking to the mirror? Have you forgotten the past?”

Since Tajirika’s capture by the women and Vinjinia’s by Kaniürü and his youth, the two had improved their relationship. Their social life had also changed, and not a week went by without invitations to cocktails and dinner parties at seven-star hotels. The glittering socials and the closeness to power were attractive to her, and the political talk and gossip did not repulse her the way they used to do. The only thing in her previous lifestyle to which she clung with the same intensity was her churchgoing. She went to the same church, All Saints, but since her husband’s promotion she noticed significant changes in how she was now received. She and her children had a special pew reserved for them at the front near the altar, and the number of men and women who now and then stopped to say a word, shake hands, or simply ask a question and get advice even on spiritual matters had risen dramatically.

Just when she thought that her affairs were running smoothly and that she could sit back and enjoy life, she grew alarmed at seeing her husband talking once again to a mirror. She recalled that other time when Tajirika was stricken by his malady of words and how it all began. Was he about to have another seizure? The earlier one had come after his appointment to the chair of Marching to Heaven. Would his ascendancy to governorship be followed by another loss of words? The only difference this time was that he was not clawing at his face. Tajirika’s name and his last meeting with Machokali at the Mars Cafe were mentioned in the government statement compromising Machokali. Was this haunting her husband? She was not sure, and in her prayers she begged God to exorcise whatever daemons might be bedeviling her husband. Vinjinia started surreptitiously stalking him in the house. There would be no more surprises, she told herself.

One morning she heard him clearly mention the name the Wizard of the Crow, and he was so absorbed in whatever had made him cry out that he did not even notice her presence. She decided to confront him: What danger? What about the Wizard of the Crow?

It was a Sunday morning. At first Tajirika was rattled by the sound of Vinjinia’s voice. He managed a smile but did not succeed in hiding his anxiety. He now seemed relieved to see her. Even though they were variously occupied during the day and did not see as much of each other as they would have liked, Tajirika was always happy to brag about himself to Vinjinia, especially about how the Ruler trusted him or how his enemies like Kaniürü and Sikiokuu were now desperate to appease him. I am now the man, he would tell her, and he loved it when she cautioned him not to be drunk with power like some people she knew. This would make them laugh, because they knew that by “like some people I know” she meant Kaniürü. But even so, he did not tell her everything that happened in the State House. Nothing about the money trees, or the night that Machokali went missing, or even the capture of the Wizard of the Crow. This business of advising the Ruler is not easy, Vinjinia, and I am burdened by state secrets, he would sigh. But he would quickly beam with pleasure when he heard Vinjinia say: Don’t worry, you can’t have your cake and eat it. This all comes with the territory.

Now her questions suddenly reminded him that it was she who had introduced him to the Wizard of the Crow when he was stricken by white-ache. He was sure she could come up with another sorcerer. Women had a sixth sense.

“I need some sorcerers and witch doctors,” Tajirika said to his wife without any preliminaries.

“What!” Vinjinia exclaimed, taken unaware. Was he joking, or had he gone feeble in his head?

“I want you to get me the most powerful sorcerers and witch doctors available,” Tajirika repeated.

“Sorcerers?”

“Even one will do,” Tajirika said. “But many are better than one, for I can choose the best among them.”

“What are you talking about? What do you all of a sudden want with sorcerers?” Vinjinia asked when she saw that he was serious. “Whom do you intend to bewitch?”

He sat her down and told her about the capture of the Wizard of the Crow and of his affliction. Still the Ruler wanted to ask him a few questions that only he, the Wizard of the Crow, could answer. The task of getting a healer to heal the healer had been thrust upon him, he explained.

“What on earth do I know about sorcerers or where to find them?” Vinjinia asked, shrugging it off.

“You are a very resourceful woman, Vinjinia,” Tajirika pleaded. “I am dead sure that you can find me a sorcerer as you did before.”

Vinjinia was about to remind him that it was Nyawlra who led her to the Wizard of the Crow, but thought the better of it.

As the wife of a governor and a successful businesswoman in her own right, she wanted no part of Nyawlra, the Wizard of the Crow, or the razed shrine.

It is true, though, that when news of the arson first reached her, Vinjinia felt despair, worsened by her not knowing whether or not Nyawlra had perished in the shrine. Vinjinia felt responsible; she was burdened by guilt and could talk to no one without revealing what she knew about the identity of one of the faces of the Wizard of the Crow. She was haunted by images of the charred remains of Nyawlra, but in time she had managed to suppress them.