The Other Side of Truth (6 page)

THERE IS A GREAT BANGING
and rattling on the iron gates. They have finished eating dinner and are watching television. Papa hurries to the window, draws back the curtain just a little and peers out through the bars on the window. The sky is dark but lights are flashing above the gates
.

“Police! Police! Open de door! Open de door! I say open de door!”

“Oh my God! What have they come for now, Folarin?” Mama runs across the sitting room and puts out her hand to grip Papa’s shoulder
.

“Open am! Open am! Or we go break dis gate o!”

Papa calls to Joseph. The young man runs and Papa strides across the drive to the gate. Sade and Femi watch from inside next to Mama. She has an arm around each of them. They are silent and tense
.

“I want proof of your identity and your warrant.” Papa’s voice is strong. How can he sound so calm?

“Eh-en, so! You think say I dey play? Open am now, now!”

“I am not playing either. I follow the rules. Pass your warrant through here first. If it’s in order I shall of course open up.”

Sade is squeezing Mama’s hand
.

Femi is crying. “Why have they come, Mama? What are they going to do to Papa?”

What would the police do to them? The unspoken question whipped through Sade’s brain as they huddled in the corner close to the shattered glass. Video Man had shut his ears to their pleas to let them go. Huffing and puffing, he stalked back and forth from his counter across the littered floor to the locked door. He cursed hooligans and he cursed the police for taking so long.

A flickering blue light and a siren announced the arrival of the police. Video Man’s hand trembled as he jostled with the key. Two police officers, a man and a woman, stepped calmly inside and glanced around the shop. The man looked especially tall with his high black helmet next to the woman with her pot-shaped hat. As Video Man spoke in a furious stream, both officers listened with folded arms. The policeman’s gaze shifted so silently and coolly that, before she could look away, Sade found herself caught for a moment. Video Man broke off.

“Well, what are you going to do?” he demanded.

“Can you tell us again, sir—what exactly did you see these kids do?” asked Cool Gaze.

“I’ve just told you!” Tiny bubbles of froth appeared at the edge of Video Man’s lips. “The others sent ’em in to distract me. You could tell from the way they looked at each other! And three of ’em was black as these two.”

“But what did you actually see them do? Did either of
these two kids do any of this?” Cool Gaze pointed to the mess strewn around the floor and the shattered window.

The woman officer took the children aside. She pulled a notepad and pencil out of her pocket.

“I need to know your names, your parents’ names and where you live. I’ll start with you.” Miss Police Business raised her eyebrows at Sade. The pencil remained poised above the pad.

“Do you understand me?” Miss Police Business spoke a little louder and slower. “You have to tell me your names.”

Sade stared at the notepad. Miss Police Business turned to Femi.

“Well, let me ask you then. What is your name?”

Femi’s eyes remained glued on his sneakers.

“Well, who are your parents? What are their names?” The voice was sharper now.

Sade felt as if her brain had crashed. Like Papa’s computer. When that happened, you could tap in as many commands as you liked but nothing would come out.

“Do we know if they speak English?” asked Cool Gaze.

“Oh they speak English all right. I heard ’em!” declared Video Man.

Cool Gaze now towered them.

“Look. If you’ve done nothing wrong, there’s no need to be frightened.”

Papa has read the piece of paper and Joseph opens the gate. Men in khaki uniform and black berets surge into the yard. Papa is surrounded. Mama lets out a small cry
.

“Stay here!” she orders the children and rushes out of the sitting room to get to the yard. By the time she sprints down the steps, the police have hustled Papa out of the gates
.

“Where are you taking him?” Mama cries
.

Sade glimpses Papa’s white shirt among the khaki as police push him into the back of their truck. No one answers Mama. The children run outside. When they reach Mama, the truck is already roaring down the road
.

Sade had never felt so cold in all her life. Frozen inside and out. None of the people standing in front of her and Femi made any sense. The crazed Video Man still frothing at the side of his whitened mouth like their neighbor’s old guard-dog. Miss Police Business with an irritated frown like Sade’s teacher, Miss Okoya, when a student had disobeyed her. Cool Gaze with his searching green eyes as pale as unripe almonds.

The police officers moved to the counter. They talked in low voices before coming back. Miss Police Business spoke briskly.

“If you refuse to tell us who you are and where you live, we shall have to take you to a place of safety.”

“What? Aren’t you going to arrest ’em?” butted in Video Man. “Make ’em tell you about their friends?”

“Not enough evidence for that, sir,” said Cool Gaze.

“Useless lot!” Video Man muttered loudly, turning his back.

“Come on, you two!” Miss Police Business pointed to the door. “You’re coming with us to the police station. The Emergency—”

Sade’s mind crashed again.

THE PHOTOGRAPHS ARE SPREAD
across Papa’s desk. He has brought them home to show Mama after returning late at night. They don’t notice Sade creeping into the study. Silent tears slip down Mama’s cheeks
.

“How can they do this, Folarin? Wasting such young lives!”

Mama holds up a picture. Bodies sprawled over the grass. She picks up another. A young man’s body slumped across steps, arms clawing forward. As if he was trying to get up the stairs but didn’t make it
.

“Where was this, Folarin? Where was he?”

“Outside the library.”

Mama shakes her head, almost in disbelief
.

It was the same university where Papa and Mama had met as students. Papa had traveled up there to report on “student disturbances,” as the authorities called them. The students had planned a large demonstration that started off loud and noisy but not violent. They intended marching into town with their placards.
GENERALS CLEAR OUT! FREE ELECTIONS! NIGERIA WANTS A FREE PRESS! RELEASE ALL POLITICAL PRISONERS
! But before they
had even left the campus, a convoy of army trucks had arrived, crammed with soldiers. They spread from the trucks like flies. The shooting began without warning
.

Sade remains very still, listening to Papa tell Mama what he has seen. He is hardly at home these days. There are so many terrible reports about what the soldiers are doing. Some newspapers are too scared to publish them. Others have been shut down, but Papa’s newspaper has been moving from office to office to stop the soldiers’ finding them. Papa says the Brass Buttons like to pretend to the world and themselves that everything is normal. But actually they are living under a state of emergency
.

Two days later, after the photos and story were published, the soldiers came to take Papa away.

A YOUNG MAN, WITH GINGER HAIR
hanging in a tail behind his neck, examined them from across the bare wooden table. His face was serious but not unfriendly. Miss Police Business had brought him into the room where they had been waiting nervously.

“This is the Emergency Social Worker,” she began.

“Hello. I am Robert.” He bowed his head slightly forward in a greeting.

“I’d like you to come with me. I think you need somewhere safe to stay for the night,” he continued in a soft, unhurried voice. “I shall try and find something for you. Is that OK?”

Sade looked at Femi. Neither had spoken from the time the police arrived at the video shop. Since their journey in the police car, Femi’s body had become almost rigid. His eyes avoided his sister but Sade knew he would follow whatever she did. She tapped his hand lightly as she stood up and, without a word, walked in silence to the door.

Sade didn’t even try to take in where they were going as they were driven away. Outside everything was strange and
threatening. Darth Vaders in alleys. Thieves. Vandals. Crazed people. Police who might lock you up because you couldn’t tell them who you were or who your parents were or where you lived. Sade knew they would certainly be asked the same questions again. At the moment she and Femi were like two parcels with no address. They could end up anywhere.

The car pulled up at a low building squashed between two gloomy blocks of flats. Most of the building was in darkness but there were lights in the entrance and inside a couple of windows. The children trailed behind Robert with the hair-tail along empty corridors to an office. Inside was a desk scattered with papers next to a computer, some comfortable chairs and a box of toys in one corner. He pointed to the chairs and asked if they would like a hot drink. Sade and Femi each gave a small nod and he didn’t press them to speak.

Left on their own, they could hear bits of his conversation on the telephone next door. Sade picked out the opening phrase “We’re looking for a temporary foster home…” She lost track after the first few calls. Femi was half-asleep already, curled up over the rucksack on his knees. After sipping her hot chocolate, Sade closed her eyes.

The next she knew was that she was being gently shaken. Robert Hair-tail was telling them something about a lady who was willing to take them in for a night or two.

“It’s only temporary. Mrs. Graham has a boy of her own and takes care of twins. I’m afraid you’ll have to share their bedrooms. Not ideal. But I know you’ll be safe and warm with Mrs. Graham while we explore how best to help you. OK? Are you ready to come?”

Sade had to make a real effort to pull herself out of the chair. If only they could have been just left to sleep where they were in this office with hot chocolate, toys and scattered papers. It was going to be much more scary to be taken into some strange person’s home. Worse still to share some unknown person’s bedroom. She was sure Femi was thinking the same thing. His head was completely bowed as he hauled himself up. Getting up looked even more painful for him than old Baba Akin at Family House shifting his ancient bones.

“I know it’s difficult but you’ll be fine with Mrs. Graham.”

Robert Hair-tail seemed concerned to reassure them. Mutely they followed him back out of the building.

Once again the car became a capsule traveling to some unknown destination. It turned out to be a massive block of flats along an almost deserted road. The dull glow from streetlamps and the ceiling lights above narrow open passageways cast eerie shadows. The lift was out of order and they had to walk up some poorly lit stairs. An awful smell of stale urine slunk in the corners.

“Be careful where you step. Sometimes there’s glass,” Robert warned them.

Sade felt Femi pitch a little closer to her. In Lagos there were flats that looked stained and dirty like this but they had never been inside them. All their relatives and friends lived in houses. Mostly houses and spacious compounds with yards and lawns, trees, flowers and fruits. She did not remember ever discussing who lived in the crowded stained-looking flats with Papa or Mama. She just assumed that they must be
very poor people. What kind of place was this where Robert Hair-tail was bringing them?

On the fifth floor he branched off down the passage and knocked softly at number 59. A short, plump white woman opened the door. Her mouse-colored hair was drawn back from her face by a pink band.

“This is Mrs. Graham,” said Robert.

“Come in quick. It’s freezing out there!” said Mrs. Graham, greeting them.

As Sade stepped into a small room with a table on one side and sofa and chairs on the other, her first thought was that it looked clean and not at all dirty like the stairs. At least that was a relief.

“Robert says they don’t know your names,” continued Mrs. Graham. “What am I going to call you then?”

Sade and Femi remained silent.

“Aahh, well there’s always tomorrow. You can tell us then. When you’ve had a bit of a rest, eh?”

“They’re tired all right,” said Robert. “We’ll leave all the talking until the morning. One of the Children’s Team will come over.”

“Looks like they’ve been places! Know what I mean? I’ll show them their beds straight away. Kevin!”

A boy about Sade’s age dragged himself off the leatherlike sofa in front of the television. Sighing loudly, he ambled over to them.

“This is my son, Kevin.”

Sade’s eyes flicked between the smiling mother and the unsmiling boy. There was a strong likeness between the two
of them. The boy shared his mother’s plump cheeks and narrow forehead but not her pale complexion and green eyes. His skin was distinctly light brown and his hair dark, short and curly. For a fleeting moment Sade wondered about Mr. Graham but Robert Hair-tail had made no mention of him.

“Take this young man to your room, Kevin. Give him the bottom bed and you move up top. Mind you show him the bathroom on the way.”

Protest was written all over Kevin’s face.

“Aw, Mum! You always give me grief! Why can’t he sleep with the twins?”

“I’ve told you already. The girl is going to sleep with the twins. There’s not even room to swing a cat in there. Now get moving!”

Kevin kissed his teeth and muttered something under his breath. Sade saw Femi’s jaw set. She half expected him to refuse to go. To do his “I’m staying here until I’m satisfied” act. But Femi was so tired that when Kevin brushed past him, he tramped behind without a word.

Ten minutes later when Mrs. Graham showed her to a camp bed, Sade hardly noticed the small shapes on the other two beds, fitted at right angles to each other. Mrs. Graham handed her an oversize T-shirt.

“Sleep tight!” she said. “This’ll do as a nightie if you need one.”

Sade suddenly felt so limp that it took all her energy just to tug off her shoes, climb into the bed and pull the quilt over her. Mrs. Graham’s T-shirt slid off the bed onto the floor.