Wizard of the Crow (58 page)

“Mr. Tajirika, what you say is very interesting, except that you are mixing things up a bit. For instance, your thinking that I could have started or sent somebody to start the queues verges on a delirium. Let us examine your story guided by reason. I take it, from what you have told me so far, that you think that the Wizard of the Crow was on a mission, that somebody had sent him to set off the queuing mania. Or, to put it another way, you seem to be saying that somebody deliberately started the queuing thing? Please return to your seat so that we can talk about this clearly.”

“First things first. Ask him to lift the curse of death from me.”

During this exchange, Sikiokuu had time and time again tried to push Tajirika away, but every time he did so the latter would tighten his grip on Sikiokuu’s legs. Now he tried again, in vain, and realized that there was no way Tajirika was going to sit back down until he received reassurance of some kind. Sikiokuu decided to try a little performance. He picked up the phone, called the front room where the police were waiting, and asked for Kahiga. When Kahiga walked in and saw the scene he pulled out his pistol, but Sikiokuu winked and gestured to him to put his gun back into the holster. If Kahiga felt like laughing, he kept it to himself; he just stood there waiting for further instructions from his boss.

“I want you to go to the Wizard of the Crow and find out exactly what he told Tajirika. Tell him that I am not now as angry with Tajirika as I was when I sent the wizard to deal with him in his cell. Accordingly, I now order him to lift all curses and evil spells he may have put on Tajirika. If he does not do so forthwith, shoot the bastard.
On the spot. No discussion.”

Sikiokuu touched his ears and shook them from side to side slightly to signal to Kahiga the farcical nature of the proceeding.

Outside, Kahiga started chuckling; this Tajirika was a riot, first with his bucket of shit and now kneeling, holding on to Sikiokuu’s legs.

Tajirika relinquished Sikiokuu’s legs and returned to his seat.

“Thank you, brave Minister,” said Tajirika.

“Don’t mention it,
as the English say” said Sikiokuu. “But let us return to our story. Now did I hear you say that this sorcerer once came to your office pretending to be looking for work?”

“Yes.”

“And Nyawlra, was she still your secretary at the time?”

“Yes.”

“And a few days later, this same Nyawlra took you to the sorcerer’s shrine?”

“Yes. Nyawlra and my wife, Vinjinia.”

“Nyawlra and this son of a crow, did they know each other?”

“No. Nothing suggested that, neither when he came to me in search of work nor when I went to his place in search of a cure.”

“But you cannot say for sure that they did not know each other?”

“That’s correct.”

“And you never heard Nyawlra mention his name afterward?”

“That’s correct.”

“And you can say with absolute certainty that it was somebody else who had sent the sorcerer to your office to look for work? And as for this somebody, his real interest was to start the queuing mania?”

“Yes, that’s how it seems to me when I piece things together.”

Sikiokuu paused as if pondering what Tajirika had said. He felt malicious joy within, but he did not want to show it. Sikiokuu found Tajirika precisely how he had always wanted him to be: a supplicant in search of mercy and forgiveness. There were a few dots, though, that had yet to be connected. What was the connection, if any, between Nyawlra and the Wizard of the Crow? Why would the Wizard of the Crow want to pretend that he was looking for a job? More investigations were necessary. What pleased him most was that Tajirika had agreed finally that the queues had not simply sprung up, that somebody had started them according to a plan. The mastermind had to be rooted out.

“Mr. Tajirika, listen to me. I am not going to lie to you.
You are in a lot of trouble.
But I am going to help you. Let’s first agree on the facts. You don’t deny that the queuing started outside your office?”

“That’s correct.”

“And now you have stated firmly, unequivocally, that it is your belief and even calculation that the whole thing was a plot? And that somebody was behind it?”

“Yes.”

“Now, we know that the somebody is not me. It is not you. We know the somebody was not the Wizard of the Crow, because you do admit that he was only a messenger. What concerns us all is the identity of the
mastermind.
That’s why the Ruler set up a Commission of Inquiry with Mr. Kaniürü as the chairman. So you see that when you refused to obey the
summons,
whatever your reason, you were actually disobeying the Ruler. See my point?”

“Yes. Help me; please do whatever you can to make sure that this matter does not reach the ears of the Ruler.”

“God helps those who help themselves, and we shall soon find out how far you are prepared to help yourself. For my part, I can make sure that the confessions you make in this office will be sent to the Commission of Inquiry to be made part of its records. It will seem as
if you had indeed appeared before that august body freely and willingly, or that you had made
a written submission
to it. Either way, you will seem to have fully cooperated with the commission; your having defied a legitimate summons, broken the law, and challenged the Ruler’s authority would no longer be the case. In return for that favor, you will promise that you will never mention to anybody that you were arrested or that you spent time in a cell. And all talk of Thomas and Descartes must end.”

“Thank you, Mr. Sikiokuu. Thank you,”
Tajirika said. “Do not worry about those sects. I do not belong to any”

“Okay! Let’s proceed and see if we can identify the criminal mastermind. You have already said that you think that there is a connection between the wizard’s search for a job and your malady of words. In both cases the Wizard of the Crow was instrumental, so we can assume that the person behind his search for employment and the one behind your affliction are one and the same. Now tell me, did you manage to solve the riddle of the three words? Did you figure out who really infected you with the virus of white-ache?”

“Any of us could have given another the affliction,” Tajirika said, without realizing that he was repeating part of the conversation he had had with the Wizard of the Crow about the three words. “I’m not the only one who may have suffered from the disease.”

“In short, what you are saying is that somebody else infected you with the illness?”

“Perhaps.”

“Forget perhaps. Whom do you suspect? Friends? Maybe your friend Machokali?” Sikiokuu asked, a little irritated at being forced to voice the name.

“He could have. The trouble, if you followed my argument, is that even you could have done so.”

“Leave my name out of this, Tajirika! What you are trying to say is that Machokali gave you the virus. Do you still doubt this?”

“How can I doubt anything? You told me to forget Thomas Descartes.”

“So you have no doubt that it was Machokali who infected you with the virus?”

“I am still trying to figure out who else could have given me the germs. The way I now understand it is that the higher we climb in
our circle the more vulnerable we become to the virus of white-ache as both carriers and recipients. So you see that even you, Mr. Minister …”

“Mr. Tajirika, I really thought you were serious about helping, but I see you are
still playing games,”
Sikiokuu said icily.

“I am sorry, Mr. Minister, but I mentioned you as an example only. I wanted to say that the only person with whom I socialized and who obviously belongs to a rank higher than mine is Machokali, and it is possible …”

“… that you heard him say
‘if’?”
Sikiokuu completed his thought for him.

“Yes,” Tajirika said. “Or, it is possible …”

“… that you heard his desire for higher office, his wishing that someday he might become, say, president?”

“Not directly. But because he is a politician, it is not impossible to imagine that he may have, once or twice, said that if this happens then that could happen, or if it had been he who was …”

“… holding the highest seat of office in the land?”

“Yes. Something like that. But is there a politician who does not harbor those dreams?”

“Mr. Tajirika, do you know that what you are saying is
very serious?
That it is against the law to wish or dream of ever becoming president as long as the Buler himself is alive?
Treason, in fact?”

“Yes. You might say so.”

“Let’s be clear about this. Have you harbored those thoughts, wishes, or dreams?”

“Me, ruler of Aburiria? Oh, no, no! Even for a parliamentary seat or a ministerial post, I have no ambition. My main and only interest in life is making money. Give me a prosperous business, and you will see a very satisfied man.”

“I believe you,” said Sikiokuu, as if congratulating him for his lack of political ambition. You love riches and this is borne out by the fact that it was only after you learned that your destiny as a white man was to be poor that your white-ache got cured.”

“That’s right. The jingle of coins in the pocket is beautiful music. As for political office, I leave it to you ministers …”

“Look, Tajirika, let’s not be like two bulls circling each other, reluctant to engage. Here I am the only bull in the kraal. So stop
skirting the issue. Get to the point. What you are trying to say is that Machokali used to say something like … ?”

“If he had more power. Like all politicians, yes. Isn’t that what we were saying just now?”

“You mean what
you
were saying!”

“He might have expressed a wish for even higher office, like all politicians.”

“But we are not talking about all politicians, are we?”

“I agree. We are talking singular, not plural.”

“You are now talking good grammar. You do agree that two people cannot hold the same office at the same time?”

“That’s true.”

“So when a politician eyes a seat held by another he can only be saying: I wish the incumbent were swallowed by the earth! I wish he would disappear or be made to disappear.”

“As you say!”

“Not as I say, as you say. Mr. Tajirika, what you are saying is vital to the security and well-being of this nation. Would you be willing to put in writing what you just said, or repeat it before the Commission of Inquiry?”

“Yes,” said Tajirika, unsure of what exactly he was prepared to repeat.

“Let’s now summarize and agree on what you have told me willingly, freely, without any coercion from anybody whatsoever. And when you go to write down your confession before Njoya and Kahiga, you will not deviate from the summary. This is what you have told me: At different times and occasions you heard Machokali express his longing for the highest political office in the land, often with the conditional
if the Ruler were not there … etc.
This shocked and caused you so much anguish that when you tried to recall his sentiments and their implications, your larynx rebelled and refused to give words to those thoughts. When you recovered from your malady of words, you tried to cover up the real reason by saying that you had simply been expressing a wish to be white. White-ache. But we know what the word
white
stands for. Besides, this was not even your own wish: you were regurgitating what had already been thought out and spoken by others cleverer and more cunning than you. You were actually covering for your special friend. Even when you recovered from the malady,
Machokali told you to continue pretending that you were still afflicted, keeping those thoughts alive in your mind so that you would continue to be his surrogate.”

“You forgot to add that he did not want the queuing to come to an end, for the queues were very important to the Ruler.”

“What a friend you have in this man! So he claimed that it was the Ruler who needed the queues? That it was he who sparked the mania?”

“Not exactly in those words,” Tajirika tried to clarify.

“You seem to be very keen on defending the actions of your friend.”

“Oh, no, no.”

“Then you should keep the name of the Ruler out of this. What Machokali told you is that you should continue claiming to be ill so that the queuing could continue, or words to that effect?”

“That’s correct.”

“You see? So what you are trying to say is that in asking you to continue the charade he had two aims: to multiply the queues so that when people got tired of them they would riot, and to advance his ambition for the highest office in the land by way of your own, his surrogate’s, thoughts. Let’s wrap up the summary of your confession. You told me that before Machokali left for America he and you had a secret meeting at the Mars Cafe. It was then that you asked that you become part of the delegation to the USA because, after all, you were the chairman of Marching to Heaven, but Machokali refused even to consider it. The vehemence with which he refused surprised you at first, but soon it was clear why. For, a few minutes later, he asked you whether in his absence you would become his eyes and ears in Aburlria. In short, he wanted you to be the nucleus of alternative intelligence loyal to him. But you, as a good and loyal citizen, did not say yes or no, because you did not want such a thought to foul your mind. You knew very well that it was only the Ruler who had the right to run an intelligence network. Now you knew why he had appointed you chairman of Marching to Heaven. You were to become his surrogate or representative in the project, for he was more or less sure that in the future he himself would be in charge. As time went by, you became so concerned about this matter that you demanded to see me because of my reputation as a loyal and responsible member of the Ruler’s government.”

Tajirika started seeing Machokali through Sikiokuu’s eyes. That Marching to Heaven was intended eventually to come under the control of Machokali struck him as being especially true. So that was why Machokali had come up with the idea of the birthday gift in the first place and later pretended that it was the members of the Birthday Committee who had initiated the idea?
What a friend,
Tajirika thought, amazed, as if coming to terms with the real Machokali for the first time. Machokali had even made him think that Sikiokuu was an enemy. In his moment of greatest crisis the person he had thought a friend had not even bothered to call him from America out of courtesy, and the person he had thought an enemy was the one who had come to his aid. Sikiokuu had not only gotten the Wizard of the Crow off his back, but had also found a clever way of getting Tajirika off the hook for refusing to obey the summons, and now, more important, he had even started thinking for him. How restful it was to surrender one’s mind to another person, he sighed with relief. Exhausted, broken in mind and spirit, overwhelmed by everything that had befallen him, Tajirika felt not only that the summary gave a true account, but that Sikiokuu had kindly taken onto himself the burden that had been weighing on Tajirika’s mind.