They resumed their examination of the newspaper article. What day was he reported missing? Again they stared at the Wizard of the Crow. Their supposition of his involvement in the drama of the missing minister was confirmed when they realized that the minister had vanished on the same day they brought the Wizard of the Crow to the State House. It was easy to see the connection. Had Machokali not been entrusted with apprehending the wizard? They felt better knowing that it was not they who had tracked down the Wizard of the Crow; that honor fell squarely on the shoulders of A.C., Machokali’s assistant. All unpleasantness, all the vengeance, would bypass them and fall on A.C. Njoya in particular felt proud of himself, recalling that he had refused to describe the face of the Wizard of the Crow to the artist charged with the Wanted poster and had instead described the face of Sikiokuu. He was particularly confident that he would not face harm from the sorcerer. Machokali was the wizard’s first victim; A.C. would be next.
In all Aburlria, people were asking themselves: How can a cabinet minister disappear, like a goat or a child, without a trace? A Minister for Foreign Affairs, who had so ably represented the Ruler in the courts of the great all over the world—how could he just vanish like that? A minister surrounded by bodyguards day and night—how could there be no witnesses?
Njoya and Kahiga continually whispered their imaginings to each other, but there were times when they forgot that the Wizard of the Crow was present and would raise their voices. This did not unduly worry them, for they assumed that, as he was unable to speak, he was also unable to hear and understand. Day and night they traded stories and speculations about Machokali. They gleaned bits of information and rumors from the papers and those who brought them food.
But nothing they heard or read could make them change or even shake their strongly held belief that the arrest of the Wizard of the Crow had something to do with Machokali’s disappearance.
11
All over the country, people were buffeted by the winds of rumor, disinformation, and even some facts as they tried to make sense of what had happened.
Machokali’s chauffeur and his bodyguard said that they had left the minister behind at the State House at his own request; that he had sent them a message with one of the guards excusing them for the night because he and the Ruler had many matters to settle and that on finishing state business he would find his way home. But they could not give the name of the guard who had brought the message. People would ask, How did they know that the message had really come from the minister himself r
Machokali’s wife said that her husband had not come home that night or the following night and she had not heard from him, and this was unusual because he always kept in touch by phone. He had not gone to work on the morning of his disappearance and had not called his secretary.
It was only after seven days of rumors and counterrumors that the government had issued a statement acknowledging that Machokali, the Minister for Foreign Affairs, was missing. If anybody had information about the minister’s whereabouts or the mystery of his disappearance, he or she should report it to the nearest police station. Some people claimed that the government issued the statement only after many world leaders had voiced concern over the disappearance of the minister.
After another week, the government issued a terse statement saying that according to an ongoing government inquiry, A Secret Report on Acts of Treason, Machokali was implicated in a plot to overthrow the legal government of the Republic of Aburlria. The statement strongly hinted that the minister might have fled to a foreign country to hide his shame or might even have committed suicide once he got wind of the inquiry. The statement called on any state considering giving the minister political asylum to let the Aburlrian government know so that it could start extradition proceedings. The government had a few questions it hoped the minister could shed some light on. The statement was signed by Big Ben Mambo, Minister of Information, heretofore known as a supporter of Machokali. There were a few, even then, who whispered that the missing minister was somewhere within the walls of the State House, that his bones were fortifying the walls of the famous temple of the spirits, that there were times when the Buler was heard laughing triumphantly, saying, So you thought you were more cunning than me, just because of your degrees and the support of London and Washington … A cunning robber may well meet his match in a stealthy thief … Go tell your friends that I am not to be trifled with.
12
“True! Haki ya Mungu! Sitting there, outside the chamber, alone, without anybody with whom I could share my feelings, I posed similar questions to myself, but it was hard. Imagine what it means for a person to wrestle with his own thoughts without a soul to help him deal with the numerous whys and hows in his mind or help him sort out fact from fiction? Imagine brooding like this day in, day out, in light and darkness!”
What A.G. kept on reviewing in his mind was the two-line letter that the Wizard of the Crow had written to Machokali. He grew obsessed with one phrase: Take care. A.G. recalled what the Wizard of the Crow had spluttered in a drunken haze that day at the bar: My note was addressed to one person and one person only, Machokali, the Minister for Foreigners, I mean, Affairs. And I just wanted to tell him … Take care of yourself.
“True! Haki ya Mungu, the Wizard of the Crow had foreseen all this!” A.G. would shout when later he told the story of those times.
But what exactly had the wizard foreseen? The more he turned the matter over in his head, the more A.G. became inclined to dismiss the thought that the Wizard of the Crow was the author of the minister’s disappearance. The unthinkable began to force itself on him, tentatively implicating the Ruler. Before the disappearance, A.G. did not see the contradiction between his belief in the Ruler, God, and the Wizard of the Crow, seeing the three entities as embodying ideals somehow beneficial to humans. But now for the first time he had serious doubts. So although he would have liked to have company, he stopped wishing for any, for how could he share these thoughts? I would rather struggle with my doubts, he said to himself, and keep any answers to myself. Perhaps, after all, this was the work of Ma-chokali’s archrival, Sikiokuu, the Minister of State.
“The strange thing was that while my brain was muddled with numerous questions, I always recalled with clarity Machokali’s raising his hand and waving to me as if to say good-bye. Who would be disappeared next? Only the Wizard of the Crow knew for sure, and he was saying nothing but the word if.”
A.G.’s hope of finding out lay in the restoration of the voice of the Wizard of the Crow.
13
Sikiokuu, who did not know that the sorcerer had been stricken with the malady of words, anxiously awaited what he would say. Instead of joy at the disappearance of his nemesis, Sikiokuu was shaken when he learned that the minister was missing. He recalled their last time together at the State House. After the three policemen had departed, Sikiokuu was first to leave; the Ruler, Machokali, Tajirika, and Kaniürü staying behind. What happened after he left? he now wondered. Were Tajirika and Kaniürü connected somehow to the disappearance of the minister?
However much he wanted to inquire of them, he thought the better of it. If Machokali was murdered, had Tajirika or Kaniürü been entrusted with the deed? Sikiokuu started worrying about himself. What if the Wizard of the Crow had told the Ruler of Sikiokuu’s ambition, which he had divined? The more Sikiokuu thought about it, the more he too appeared to be in danger. Should he flee to another country? Or walk into a Western embassy in Eldares and apply for political asylum? But how would he explain the danger facing him?
And so he grew desperate to know what the Wizard of the Crow had said. He tried to consult with his former subordinates, Njoya and Kahiga, to buy information from them, but they were always in the State House.
He was wallowing in these anxieties when he received a summons to the State House, his first invitation since the reported disappearance. Expecting the worst, he was relieved to learn that he was only being asked to abridge the original Re
port on Acts of Treason and amend it to link Machokali with forming queues, part of his alleged plan to overthrow the legitimate government of the Ruler.
When later his summary became the basis of the government statement implicating Machokali in plans for a coup d’etat, Sikiokuu said to himself: So it was the report on treason that had led Machokali into trouble? He felt a little guilty because he knew that a lot of the evidence and citations in the report were pure fabrications extracted from Tajirika through torture. But the relief and guilt gave way to outrage when he realized that the report might have contributed not only to Tajirika’s governorship of the Central Bank but also to his even more enviable position of always being next to the ears of the Ruler. Tajirika could say anything he wanted to the Ruler. What was to prevent him from whispering words against Sikiokuu, who had tortured him? If Kaniürü, his ex-protege, could turn against him, why not Tajirika, his ex-prisoner? Best to brace himself for the wrath to come! If the Ruler could do what he did to Rachael, his own wife, confine her to a golden prison for years and years without mercy, no amount of loyal service would restrain him.
So in those days Sikiokuu went through emotional highs and lows, but mostly lows because of the closeness of the Wizard of the Crow, Tajirika, and Kaniürü to the Ruler. Of the three, the one who terrified him most was the wizard, for he alone knew of Sikiokuu’s secret ambition.
14
Kaniürü, too, waited on the Wizard of the Crow. As he looked back to the night the sorcerer was brought to the State House, he found many things unclear. What a coincidence that Machokali should vanish on the very day the Wizard of the Crow was found? What, if any, was the connection between the two events? He recalled being excused to leave after Sikiokuu, which he did reluctantly, for it meant Machokali and Tajirika remaining behind to bask in the glory of greatness. What happened after his departure? he now wondered. Did Tajirika have a hand in Machokali’s disappearance? Had the new governor been tasked with dispatching the minister? At the thought Kaniürü felt a mixture of fear and envy. If Tajirika had been so entrusted, he was very close indeed to the Ruler, which meant that he would have even greater clout in the future. Kaniürü feared retaliation for the misery he had caused Tajirika and his family; he was angry with himself for not having foreseen that the chairperson of Marching to Heaven might well turn out to be a trusted keeper of the gate.
He tried to figure out how to make amends with Tajirika, but in vain. What consoled him in the weeks that followed was to know that the findings of his commission on the queuing mania were being used by the government to explain away the minister’s disappearance. But when he thought that the false confessions attributed to Tajirika may have contributed to the man’s rise to the top of those controlling the circulation of money in Aburlria, Kaniürü ‘s heart sank. He could outsmart Tajirika and seize more power for himself only by crushing all the queues old and new by apprehending Nyawlra before his other rival Sikiokuu did. The Ruler had already congratulated Kaniürü for teaching those racist, meddlesome foreign journalists a lesson or two, but this had been done privately. Were he to bring in Nyawlra, the Ruler would no doubt congratulate him in public to greater acclaim.
But only the Wizard of the Crow could lead him to Nyawlra, and that is why he was eager to hear what the wizard had proclaimed. For him, information had literally been power. That was why he was restless for not having the slightest clue as to what had transpired in the State House. He tried to make contact with his erstwhile assistant, Kahiga, but pointlessly. Kahiga was always at the State House, and there was no way of getting in without an invitation or a permit.
And then one day, while bathing, he jumped out of the bath and ran around the room, naked, shouting Eureka! at the top of his voice. He would crush a certain number of queues every week and then request to visit the State House to report his weekly progress. He would have a weekly audience with the Ruler and while there would try to see Kahiga and buy from him the information he so desperately needed. He was certain that he would find out what the Wizard of the Crow had disclosed about Nyawlra. Eureka! he shouted again.
15
The Ruler was growing anxious, too. Regarding the captive in the State House, he felt torn by numerous and often conflicting desires. He wanted him dead and alive at the same time. He wanted him alive so the man could disclose the secret of how money grows and dead so that he could never reveal it to another soul or reveal that he had revealed it to the Ruler. He wanted him alive so that he could help in the capture of Nyawlra and the leaders of the Movement for the Voice of the People, and dead for having heretofore kept privileged information to himself. He wanted him alive to cure him, the Ruler, of his bodily expansion, but dead for claiming that he was pregnant, attracting, to the Ruler’s chagrin, the pest known as world media. But what chagrined him even more was that on weighing the two desires he found the one for the body alive outweighing the one for the body as corpse. The captive carried much knowledge that, harnessed properly, could benefit the Ruler enormously, but this thought made him angry, because with it he was admitting that the Wizard of the Crow had powers that he, the Almighty, lacked, and this would not do in a country where he had come to believe the claims of his praise singers that he was the number one in everything. How to unlock the words of knowledge trapped in the larynx of the Wizard of the Crow? The
Ruler agonized over this, and that is why he kept Tajirika by his side at all times. It was not a matter he wanted to discuss with any of his ministers, for he did not want any of them to acquire the knowledge of how money grows on trees. Tajirika was different.
The Ruler had not always been so enamored of Tajirika. He had appointed him chairman of Marching to Heaven initially as an interim measure, pending the release of funds by the Global Rank. But he had started to think well of Tajirika the moment he realized that the man was a crook, better at the art than any of his counselors. It was Tajirika’s disclosure that as chairman of Marching to Heaven he used to demand payment in dollars from potential contractors that first impressed the Ruler and made him decide that he could certainly do business with this man. A person who could make others beg to pay in fresh dollars for services yet to come was way ahead of the game. Kaniürü and Sikiokuu suffered by comparison. These two had asked for kickbacks in Aburirian Runs: what a different approach to wealth and well-being! This showed that Tajirika could be entrusted with any task that required bending or breaking the law under the guise of legality.
Even more, the Ruler was impressed with Tajirika’s discreetness. The contrast with Kaniürü was telling. Kaniürü had rushed to share his plan of crooked gains with Sikiokuu, but Tajirika never so much as whispered a word to Machokali. Not even under torture did he let the secret out. The Ruler needed such a person of unalloyed loyalty by his side.
Events took on a logic of their own, making the unlocking of the wizard’s words of knowledge even more urgent. The queues, which had seemed random and pointless, took on greater organization. The students and the youth, mostly unemployed, were beginning to gather outside Parliament buildings, courts of law, and radio and television stations, media outlets serving as the Ruler’s mouthpiece. Skirmishes with the police occured with greater frequency, and not only in Eldares! Reports suggested that queues were spreading in all urban centers of the country with an intensity not seen before.
Coincidentally questions about the missing minister from all corners of the globe gathered momentum, especially those from London and Washington. Even after the government issued its statement implicating Machokali in a coup plot, the barrage of questions was unrelenting. These trends could not be allowed to continue: his alleged pregnancy made him a laughing stock, insurgents were wreaking havoc all over the place, and pressure from abroad was building. His absence from public view only intensified the pressure and the questions.
He tried to silence the tongues of those wondering why he was not seen in public by recalling the deputy ambassador in Washington to become, effective immediately, t
he official national hostess at receptions and other functions that required his ceremonial presence. She accepted and signed her e-mail of acceptance as Dr. Yunique Immaculate McKenzie, PhD, NOH, thus changing her name yet again to fit the new rung in her rise to power.
The appointment and acceptance, announced on the radio and carried in all the other media, only fueled the rumors of a debilitating pregnancy as the cause of his absence from the public. The Wizard of the Crow was the only person who, in addition to providing knowledge of money growing on trees, a knowledge that would lessen the Ruler’s dependence on the Global Bank, could squelch all these rumors of pregnancy immediately. The Ruler would force the wizard to confess in public that it was his letter to Machokali, which had generated tales of pregnancy as part of the minister’s coup plot. The only hitch to these solutions was again the tiny word, if, that blocked the wizard’s speech. A wizard to cure the wizard had to be found.
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!”
16
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.
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