Wizard of the Crow

by Ngũgĩ Wa Thiong'o

  “Everyone is a sinner,” the Ruler now told the ex-minister. “But the sinner must show by his deeds that he is ripe for salvation. Sikiokuu, do you want to be saved?”

  Sikiokuu was too overwhelmed to speak. He just nodded and tugged at his earlobes.

  “I didn’t hear you,” the Ruler said.

  “Yes, my Lord and Master. Just use my mirrors and you have a slave to your needs for life.”

  The Ruler assured him about the mirrors, but Sikiokuu would still have to prove himself with a task. The task was simple; the test lay in how well it was carried out.

  “Have you ever kidnapped a person?” the Ruler asked him.

  “Not me, personally. But using my men …”

  “I am not asking you to use your hands. Your mind. A mastermind!”

  A helicopter spewing Burls above the crowd would be the signal. Timing was important. Sikiokuu’s team was to act on the wizard the second the crowd started scrambling for the falling bills. But only Sikiokuu alone was to bring the prize to him by night.

  In keeping with his new policy of taking matters into his hands, the Ruler was going to direct the entire drama of the birthday celebration from his haven at the State House, with only he alone knowing the entire script, the actors their allotted lines only. So he did not tell Sikiokuu that the money was newly manufactured for the purpose of confusing the crowd or that he had asked Kaniürü to provide an undercover escort for the wizard. Tajirika knew about the bills—it was part of his fiscal plan—but not about the details of other plans. And definitely, he was not going to tell Kaniürü about the kidnap plans or the helicopters dropping money from the sky.

  Sikiokuu went back to life under house arrest, elated at being entrusted with the secret mission. He would soon be back in favor. But he could not help the thought that the Ruler had somehow stolen ideas that he himself used to entertain.

  18

  Furyk, Clarkwell, two cameramen, an electrician, a sound engineer, and the production manager of Clem&Din arrived in Eldares that very morning. Since his childhood, the electrician had heard so much about darkest Africa that, despite the images of new cities of steel and concrete he had seen on television, he still assumed that the continent was dark night and day and had bought goggles with night vision. Dr. Wilfred Kaboca, who met them at the airport in a chauffeur-driven vehicle, did not take them to their hotel but straight to the State House. He is getting worse by the hour, Kaboca explained.

  The team set about their work as if people floating in the air was a common sight. And what they did not understand, like the simulation of Heaven in the Ruler’s chamber, they assumed to be an oddity peculiar to African rulers. They did, however, ask that the smoke machine be switched off.

  Aided by Clarkwell and Kaboca, Furyk went about the usual preliminaries with the same results: nothing amiss. What was noticeably different between now and that other time in New York was not the expansion, although this had increased tenfold, but the lightness of the body. A puzzled Furyk said that he would later place some calls to Harvard to talk about this phenomenon with some physicists. Or e-mail them, suggested Clarkwell, who had brought his handheld computer. This prompted Kaboca to take Furyk aside and ask him if they had brought a sonograph machine. Ooops! Furyk said, he did not remember to bring it, but that did not much matter, because a simple blood test was enough to help determine if the expansion had mutated into a pregnancy.

  The cameramen and the electrician were busy checking the outlets and the source, quantity, and quality of the light to see what they could add to create the necessary ambience. Furyk reminded them that this was not a feature but a documentation of a scientific procedure and they had to ensure adequate light only on the patient.

  With the patient touching the ceiling, they had a few problems in eye-level camera placement, but the permanent state carpenters constructed ladders with small platforms. They set up one camera in a fixed position to take continuous uninterrupted pictures of the patient for the doctors to use when later they reviewed the collected data. The second cameraman took establishing shots of the State House, then the chamber; otherwise his main task was close-ups of the Ruler and the operation, were that to become necessary.

  With the preliminary steps completed, they sat back, observing the patient, an amazing sight, for despite his condition he followed on television what was unfolding outside and directed government responses.

  Sensing Furyks curiosity, and with the Ruler’s approval, Kaboca had an extra television set up for the visitors.

  19

  Different groups and individuals positioned themselves to secure the best space and view for their needs.

  The Soldiers of Christ had split into three groups, each with its own allotted task. The first group, led by Soul’s Walking Stick, continued to look for the cat, which had not been sighted anywhere since its escape outside All Saints.

  The second group, led by Sweeper-of-Souls, kept vigil on all the roads leading into and out of the State House, because the two times that Satan had escaped them he had gone to the State House. In both cases they did not know of his coming out.

  The third group came to the assembly singing defiantly, their plan being to creep behind the Devil and capture him before he could enter the body of any other being.

  The three groups were now coordinating their efforts through pagers and mobile phones to ensure that however and wherever Satan might choose to escape, the Soldiers of Christ would all be there to block him.

  The media people, expecting a revolution, had already set their cameras in the streets where they expected riots to erupt, with people being stoned and houses burnt down. The poor areas of Eldares had never seen so many television cameras so interested in their fate.

  The Ruler was in a self-congratulatory mood for successfully turning the day of the so-called National Self-Renewal into a national celebration of his birthday. By declaring the day a public holiday, he had taken the sting out of the call for a general strike. Even one newspaper not known for its excessive enthusiasm for the dictatorship wrote that the Ruler was a consummate politician.

  Tajirika, who had already ensured that Burl bills were well stacked in four helicopters marked NORTH, SOUTH, EAST, and WEST, had gone to the grounds early to observe everything in case his views were ever sought, but after greeting the leaders of the various armed forces, conveying his good wishes for their welfare, he retreated and stood way back at the fringes of the crowd. He knew that the stampede set in motion by the Burl manna from Heaven posed danger, and he had even told Vinjinia and his children not to attend.

  Sikiokuu had parked the getaway car just outside the assembly. With sunglasses on and a hat to cover his ears, he sat at the driver’s seat, holding a mobile phone, with which he communicated with both the State House and his hired armed thugs now seated in a strategic place near the platform. Their task was one only: to snatch the Wizard of the Crow at the signal and take him to Sikiokuu’s waiting car, from where Sikiokuu would take over. Though he remained inside the car, Sikiokuu kept peering outside at the sky for fear that he might miss the blessed signal of Burl bills from above.

  Kaniürü, who had interpreted the Ruler’s call on him to organize an escort for the wizard as a hidden mandate to dispatch the sorcerer to Hell after the confession—for why else would the Ruler be explicit about the journey to the assembly but silent about the return?—had already organized the group that would cover the Wizard of the Crow on either side as he walked to the platform. The official plan was for an unmarked police vehicle to drop the Wizard of the Crow a few yards from where the crowds began and for him to walk the rest of the way through the throng, apparently without coercion, but he would be made aware, of course, that he was surrounded by possible assassins to discourage thoughts of escape. Kaniürü kept to himself his intention to eliminate the Wizard of the Crow at last. His youth knew only that after the confessions they were to escort the Wizard of the Crow and force him into Kaniürü’s Mercedes-Benz, an
d then Kaniürü would tell them what to do next. He himself crept forward to a spot close enough to the platform to see and hear everything. For his own comfort he kept patting the gun in his pocket as if it were a protective talisman against any sorcerous tricks of his adversary.

  Nyawlra and her people were also close to the platform, ready to act on any of their different options, depending on how the scene unfolded.

  And then there were the official forces of law and order, the army, which surrounded the entire field, most of them entirely unaware of any of the plots against the Wizard of the Crow. Armed to the teeth, they waited for word from their commanding officers but were careful not to provoke the crowd.

  Religious leaders said prayers and called on God to bless the day that all might end well; that the day should mark the beginning of a new life of tolerance and openness in the country and that all may glorify and praise God in various voices without fear. E pluribus unum, one of them kept saying.

  The university youth ran the proceedings, and speaker after speaker kept reminding people why the assembly had become necessary. It was a coalition of interests all united by the one desire to recover their voice in running the affairs of the land. As part of this commitment, nobody, even those with contrary views, would be prevented from airing their views. It was a day for national self-renewal and the recovery of their individual and collective voice.

  Look in my eyes and see

  I don’t fear death

  As I demand the voice

  You took from me

  They had sung the song for weeks, A.G. would later tell his listeners, but on that day they rendered it with special intensity.

  “True! Haki ya Mungu,” A.G. would swear to emphasize the truth of his assertions, adding, “Everything was uncertain. The very name of the day was in contention: was it the Day of the Ruler’s Birthday, the Day of National Self-Renewal, or the day the Ruler would give birth? One thing was certain: everybody wanted to hear the Wizard of the Crow on the mystery of male pregnancy.”

  20

  The Wizard of the Crow reached the assembly grounds early in the afternoon, led by Big Ben Mambo. To his left and right were armed policemen, followed by others who carried five parcels. All around them were the media folk, jostling for a better view of the sorcerer. People whispered: The Wizard of the Crow. Then the silence of curiosity.

  “True! Haki ya Mungu! There was nobody, even among the children, who so much as sniggered or dared to cough” was how A.C. would later describe the moment. “I had gotten there quite early to see if I could catch his attention, even for a fleeting second, and ask him about the thing, the being of all things, for I had reached a point in my life when I came to view words differently. A closer look at language could reveal the secret of life. Many questions intrigued me: What gave the wizard so much power and insight? His magic potions, or something beyond the senses? Was it a knowledge that could be passed on to another? True! Haki ya Mungu! I felt that if I could talk to him my life might acquire meaning. But when he came to the grounds and I saw how he was guarded and pursued by the media, I realized that I would not be able to get near him. But I would still keep my ears open so as to catch every word that fell from his lips. I recalled his words at the bar: No, hapana! No! That is not how it happened. So how did it? I asked myself.

  “I saw Big Ben Mambo, the Minister of Information, climb up to the dais, nudging the Wizard of the Crow forward as if guiding him to a seat. Big Ben Mambo cut a funny figure; even now he walked erect as if leading an army parade. This one should have been a member of the armed forces, I found myself musing. The police and the media sat in front of the crowd, all facing the dais. I also crept toward the dais and went as far as those seated in front of me would allow. Beally I did not want to miss a single word or act …”

  The students who had taken on the role of masters of ceremony gave the minister time to speak and, to dissenting whistling from some sections, they explained that this was a People’s Assembly and the minister, like every other citizen, had a right to speak and air his views. Big Ben Mambo was unhappy that mere students were giving him permission to speak, but he reckoned that this was not the time or place to start an argument or be defiant. Big Ben Mambo began by saying that he was there as a messenger from above, and so he was speaking in the name of the Buler, Father of the Nation and Commander in Chief of the Armed Forces. He then thanked the Buler for allowing the assembly to take place on the hallowed grounds of Parliament and the courts. He especially thanked him, on behalf of all those now assembled here, for accepting, in advance, the love and adoration that they all had come here to express on His Mighty s birthday …

  “You mean his delivery date?” some people shouted, and started chanting: “Who is responsible for the pregnancy?”

  “Please allow me to finish my speech,” Big Ben insisted. “Now, about the pregnancy: you will get to hear all about it from the mouth of the Wizard of the Crow. He will also expose all enemies of the State.”

  “The enemies of this State are friends of the people,” others shot back.

  “I did not come here to harangue or be harangued,” Big Ben Mambo screamed. “I came here to deliver the Buler’s greetings and best wishes and to ask you to give the Wizard of the Crow a chance to confess fully and to say everything that he has to say without your interrupting him or shouting him down or stoning him just because he is a sorcerer. The days when sorcerers were put in beehives and rolled down a mountain to their deaths in the valley are gone.” Sensing the mounting hostility, Big Ben Mambo fled the microphone and beckoned the Wizard of the Crow to the lectern.

  Slowly and deliberately, the Wizard of the Crow rose, asked the leaders of the ceremony if he could speak, and, with their assent, went to the lectern and stood before the microphone.

  21

  Kamltl did not know how to begin or what to tell the gathering. Again he wished he had had a chance to speak with Nyawlra. But, as that was not meant to be, he was now on his own. A loner by nature, he disliked public speaking, and here was a multitude in rapt attention! He had taken on the identity of the Wizard of the Crow as a cover, a joke, and now he was expected to be true to that identity. He was hardly here of his own volition, and now he had to speak as if he had come willingly! He hated lies and lying, even for private gain, and now he was expected to lie publicly for another’s gain. He had wanted to root his life in truth—even as a diviner he had tried his best to avoid falsehood—and here he was, his life hanging on a false confession!

  He took courage in the conviction that he would rather die before the crowd than be disappeared like Machokali.

  “You all saw that I walked here surrounded by armed guards to ensure that I don’t stray from the path. So I want to start by saying how much I appreciate my guides and guards.”

  There was laughter, which put him more at ease.

  “I have been asked to speak about the Ruler’s pregnancy, Nyawlra’s hiding place, Machokali’s disappearance, and the queues. I must speak only the truth. Thereafter, as I have been instructed, I must drive away the daemons possessing you, compelling you to queue and organize. I must cleanse your souls of defiance.’’

  Again some people laughed. Others were uneasy. But when he started to confess, the ensuing silence was complete.

  He felt his tongue loosen up.

  22

  The Ruler, who was following everything on television, held his breath in gleeful anticipation of an abject and contrite confession. He was so pleased with himself that he could not help chuckling a little.

  Watching their own television screen, Furyk, Clarkwell, and Kaboca now and then kept an eye on their patient, jotting down observations for later review, while the first camera captured the Ruler’s every gesture and bodily motion. The second camera was also busy with medium shots, close-ups, and even a few cutaways, including a few shoulder shots of the Ruler looking at the screen at the Wizard of the Crow before the assembly.

  Suddenly they heard the
Ruler let out a sharp, anguished cry, his airborne body writhing in pain. The Ruler groaned. Furyk and Clark-well quickly climbed the ladder of Heaven to see what was happening. Had the hour of another mystery birth come upon them?

  23

  “I will first confess my role in the origin of the rumors that the Ruler is pregnant,” the Wizard of the Crow said. “But why talk as if pregnancy is a malignancy? To be pregnant is to carry a seed of a becoming. Is it of life or death? That’s the question. However, I was not sent here to sing the ethics and philosophy of pregnancy but to explain how I misled you into mistaken beliefs.

  “It is all due to a parable that came to me as I waited in a lobby of a New York hotel, trying to figure out the meaning of the wonders I had seen in a flight I had made around Africa and all the lands where dwell black folk, in the form of a bird.”

  He told the story of his travels in time and space in search of the sources of black power and a rather long parable of how humans surrendered control of their own lives to a blind deity with a double-barreled name of M&M, or money and market, and how Africa’s independence mutated to dependence. He paused to gauge the effect. Not a sound.