by Frank Coates
They were Kikuyu, but screamed terrible insults at her. Traitor. Whore.
They swarmed onto her, and pushed her back into her hut.
She fought them.
They tore her shift away.
CHAPTER 59
Jelani waited outside the Norfolk in the dim light of dawn with the engine of the union’s Ford still running. He’d warned Emerald they had an early start, and she’d promised to be on time. She arrived a few minutes late, a camera bag slung over her shoulder, full of apologies.
He drove quickly through the quiet streets of Westlands. It was Friday, but they were early enough to avoid the traffic.
On the highway they chatted about the day ahead. Emerald said she wanted to shoot plenty of portraits of Lari people going about their daily chores.
‘You will see many people, many things,’ he said. ‘Old women feeding the chickens, the boys tending the goats. If we’re not too late, we’ll see the women milking the home cow for the totos’ breakfast.’
A police car hurtled by on the narrow road, siren blaring.
‘Ai-ya,’ Jelani said. ‘He’s in a hurry.’
A few minutes later, a military vehicle marked with a red cross overtook them in Uplands, bouncing over the speed bumps.
A tinge of apprehension entered Jelani’s mind.
A few miles before Lari the road was crowded with vehicles. People were gathered into tight huddles and there were no children in their colourful school uniforms making their way along the roads.
When they turned the last bend before Lari, and they could see the smoke curling above the trees, Jelani felt the cold hand of fear clutch at his heart.
Emerald had to run to keep up with Jelani, who hurried among the remains of burned huts. She’d already seen several covered bodies lying on the ground amid smouldering ruins. Many old women were wailing and tearing at their face and hair. Mothers hugged little ones to them, rocking and weeping. Farm animals lay disembowelled in black pools of blood; some still twitched in their death throes in the dusty earth. The sickening stench of death was everywhere.
Jelani stopped to exchange urgent words with one old man, then hurried on. A milking cow, disembowelled and crippled, lay in a pool of entrails as it panted its life away. A man stood alone, staring at the still smouldering ruins of his house. They passed a mother weeping over the mutilated body of the child in her arms. Emerald fought back a wave of nausea.
The sheer savagery surrounding her was enough to stir a primeval fear within her — a feeling of being far away from the world she knew and trusted — and she was also aware she was the only white face in the village, and therefore a prime target should the Mau Mau return.
She pulled her camera out and started to snap shots. Somehow the view through the camera lens tempered the savagery surrounding her. She kept an eye on Jelani as he hurried on ahead, but became consumed by the images in the viewfinder. When she next looked for him, he was gone.
She ran in the direction he’d been heading and caught a glimpse of him as he dashed through the charred remains of a what might have been a school and church.
‘Jelani!’ she yelled into the eerie silence. ‘Jelani!’
He was gone, and there was no one about. She feared that whatever tragedy that had fallen on the village might return. She fought back her rising panic, and ran on, more fearful now that she was alone.
She saw him then, crouching inside the doorway of a hut that was largely intact.
She ran to it.
The door of the hut was broken open and she quickly peered into the dim interior. There was nothing spared in what must have been a mammoth struggle. Then she realised Jelani was cradling the naked body of a young woman to his chest. His head was pressed into her shoulder and she couldn’t see his face, but his body shuddered in the painful convulsions of utter misery.
When Emerald saw the condition of the corpse she quickly turned aside and vomited.
Jelani could see what had happened: the door broken from its hinges by the forceful entry of one or more men, the heavy bedside lamp broken as Beth tried to defend herself, the chair smashed in the confusion of bodies, the torn and discarded cotton shift, the bruised and bloody and finally mutilated body, left where they’d used her.
The Mau Mau’s gruesome tactics were plain to see. Beth’s once beautiful body had been sliced open from vulva to throat, exposing her organs between the puckered edges of raw flesh. Her face, so often composed in a gentle smile, was now frozen for all time in an expression of absolute horror.
Savagery was the weapon they used to cower innocent people into terrified submission. Now he understood why the oathing ceremony had become so bestial: it was meant to dehumanise a man to the point where nothing — not the vilest act or most wicked sin — was too evil. The Mau Mau’s indoctrination could entice the beast from the darkest depths of even the most decent man’s soul. And here was the proof, if ever he needed it, of how vile that beast could be.
He felt Emerald’s touch on his shoulder, drawing him away with her words and her insistent hand.
‘Jelani,’ she said. ‘There’s nothing we can do here. Leave it to the police. Let’s go.’
‘No, I can’t,’ he sobbed. ‘I have to … I have to … do something.’
But he could think of nothing he could do. What was there now but an empty gulf where life and love had so recently been?
‘I have to tell Beth’s family,’ he said, clutching at the one thing that came to mind.
‘Not now. You can’t do that while you’re in this state.’
‘But …’ His eyes were drawn back to Beth’s broken body, and the agonising stab of sadness pierced him again. He clutched at his gut.
‘Come on, Jelani. Come away from this,’ Emerald whispered.
Like a sleepwalker he obeyed, pausing to first remove his bloodied shirt and drape it ineffectively over Beth’s body.
He turned towards Emerald and saw her distress in her misted green eyes. He buried his face in her shoulder and wept.
Sam received a call from a contact at police headquarters and immediately drove to Lari.
The stink of burned flesh hung in the smoke haze when he climbed out of the car. He thought he was prepared for the worst, but anyone would have been shocked at the savagery that had fallen on the village the previous night. The bloody hand of the Mau Mau was everywhere to be seen. Police and medics moved among the devastation, removing bodies and triaging the injured.
Sam felt sick in the stomach. The extent of death and destruction was well beyond all previous Mau Mau atrocities. These had consisted of mainly isolated attacks — no more than small skirmishes using primitive weapons. Here was evidence of a large, well-equipped, and coordinated force. This was obviously intended to show the loyalist Kikuyu what was in store for them should they continue to defy the Mau Mau — and to prove to the white population, and the administration, their ability to strike at will.
Sam had considered Erskine’s plans to deploy heavy bombers to attack the Mau Mau’s jungle strongholds as unnecessary and heavy-handed. He now had to reconsider. Surrounding him was evidence that the rebels were not only cruel and ruthless, they were a formidable and determined force.
The first deployment of the Lincoln bombers was scheduled for the twenty-ninth of March — in just two days’ time. It was fortuitous: it would send a quick reply to the Mau Mau that the administration was also serious about winning.
As he wandered through what remained of the village, trying to find his bearings amid the desolation, he noticed the young union organiser, Jelani Karura. He appeared distraught and was in an animated conversation with a young white woman. She was so strangely out of place in that bleak scene, with her soiled white slacks and floral cotton top, it drew him towards them.
‘Is everything all right here?’ he asked.
Jelani turned to him. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Thank you.’
He displayed none of his usual aggression; in fact Jelani was devoid of
any expression at all. Sam looked at the young white woman with him, who nodded towards a circle of ruined huts.
‘It was Jelani’s fiancée,’ she said. ‘A young woman by the name of Beth … She’s been … We found her … I can’t —’
‘It’s all right; I understand. I’m sorry, Karura,’ Sam said.
Jelani nodded an acknowledgement, and then added, ‘Look, there are things to be done. I wonder if you could take Emerald back to Nairobi when you go.’
‘No. I want to go with you,’ she responded.
‘Emerald, I told you: I have to go alone. It’s important for me to do this right. I have to tell Beth’s family about this. Alone.’ Jelani turned to Sam again. ‘You understand. Will you take her back for me?’
‘If the young lady doesn’t mind, I’d be happy to help.’
Emerald’s silence indicated her reluctant agreement.
‘Thanks,’ Jelani said, and headed towards his car.
After a couple of paces he turned back to Sam. ‘And one more thing,’ he said. ‘Will you take her back to her mother in the Norfolk? I mean, go with her in person.’
‘Jelani!’ she cried.
He waved away her complaint. ‘I promised to look after her,’ he said. ‘And if you could speak to her mother for me … I’d appreciate it.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Sam said. ‘I’ll see to it.’
Jelani watched them go, relieved to be alone. He looked around the village, seeing the wider destruction for the first time. He’d been so frantic to find Beth that he’d seen nothing else until now.
The ambulances were full and the medics were loading bodies into utility vehicles and flat-bed trucks. A number of volunteers were assisting the police to bring the bodies in from the outlying parts of the village. Each pair of bearers led a solemn procession of family and friends, silent except for their sobs.
It hurt Jelani to think of his Beth being touched by strangers, so he took a bag and walked back to her hut. He could hardly bear to look at her brutalised body again as he laid her out and slipped the calico material over her legs and torso, up to her neck. He looked at her unmarked face one last time, trying to imagine her as she had been in life. Through his tears he could see her laughing with him, teasing him, loving him.
He sat with her, feeling strangely comforted by the silence of the village that had, until the terrible events of the night, resonated with voices and laughter. He whispered to her, reminding her of their plans: perhaps they’d have a small farm where they could keep goats and grow maize; they would fill their house with children.
The voices of the medics intruded. They had concluded their grim tasks in the centre of the village and had now worked their way to the huts at the edge of Lari.
Jelani closed the bag above Beth’s head and pulled the cord tight.
As he carried Beth back to the medical units he shrugged aside the volunteers, feeling oddly angered by their offers of assistance.
He tried to compose the words he would say to her parents, but he couldn’t think. The images of her rape and murder intruded like vicious demons intent on wounding him again and again. When he’d first found Beth’s body he was so distraught that he felt his grief would never be expended, but now, as he laid her gently in the back of a postal delivery van beside other similar bags, it was transforming into a deep hatred of the Mau Mau. He hushed the voice in his head that said he was choosing hatred because it hurt less — and because he had done nothing to stop the rebels, or save his beautiful Beth from agony and terror.
The driver slammed the doors shut and climbed behind the wheel. After another moment he drove off and Jelani watched the van disappear down the winding road leading out of Lari.
Jelani had no heart to visit Beth’s family.
All remnants of his grief were now gone. Even his aching pain had receded, leaving in its place a cold, murderous rage.
Kimathi.
CHAPTER 60
As soon as Sam Wangira’s car was out of sight of Lari, Emerald started to shiver. She bit her lip to keep her teeth from chattering; and sat on her hands to stop them shaking. Tears welled in her eyes as the horror she’d witnessed in the village came flooding back to her.
Nothing in her life had prepared her for such an experience, and she knew it would remain with her for a long time, perhaps forever.
She tried to take her mind to a better place, a safer place, where savage men didn’t maim animals, grind children’s skulls into mash and rape and murder innocent young women. She thought of the previous night’s dinner in the elegant Lord Delamere Room at the Norfolk Hotel. She and her mother had dressed for the occasion. Her mother wore a pretty printed suit of pinks and greens with an A-line skirt, short-sleeved jacket with large pearl buttons, canvas summer shoes and matching handbag. She’d completed her finery with a wonderful wide-brimmed straw hat and cotton gloves.
Emerald had felt very sophisticated in her London fashions. She wore a full skirt of the finest organdie silk in a soft peach colour with a white velvet sash. It was very much reminiscent of Dior’s New Look, with the bodice hugging her wasp-like waist. Instead of a hat, which she thought might be too hot for the evening indoors, she wore a large white velvet bow, stiffened by wire, rakishly set at an angle. It matched her white gloves, shoes and small handbag.
Jelani had been nervous in his second-hand blue suit, but he was as friendly as she recalled him being in New York. They chatted about the wedding and other diversions they’d indulge over the following month. It had all sounded so wonderful. Now she couldn’t believe such a normal evening could precede the obscenity she’d just witnessed. She was twenty-one years old, but until yesterday she’d felt little more than a child. Now, with the horror of Lari fresh in her mind, she felt she’d taken another frightening step towards knowing the realities of life in Africa.
When her mother had revealed her secret, it changed their relationship. They became much closer. Now Emerald looked upon her mother as a woman — flawed and human. She understood why she’d been so strict and controlling. Dana wanted the best for her and she had spared nothing — including Jelani — to make it so. Well, she didn’t need to worry about Emerald wasting her hard-won opportunities on regattas and Oxford boys any more.
Which raised the question of Jelani. Emerald had felt guilty since learning that she was the lucky twin. Now Jelani’s loss of Beth compounded his misery and disadvantage.
Dana had asked Emerald to keep the fact that Jelani was her brother a secret from her stepfather. She was mature enough to understand why. Dana also said that she wanted to bring Jelani closer to them and, although they might nearly always live a world apart, to strenghten the bond between the three of them. Emerald agreed to do everything she could to make him feel loved, and a part of their lives.
In Lari, Emerald had felt genuinely vulnerable for the first time in her life. Africa was a very different place to her home in England, but as the car bumped along the road to Nairobi, she gradually began to relax, somehow feeling quite secure in Sam Wangira’s care. In spite of witnessing the same atrocities she had, he appeared calm and in control of his world. Emerald’s, though, was changing faster than ever.
A solemn silence persisted during the first half of the drive to Nairobi. Sam made a number of attempts to get Emerald talking about what she’d seen at Lari, but failed. He then tried a different tack, asking her about Jelani. She slowly began to engage with him, telling him how patient and kind Jelani was, and how Beth and Jelani had planned to marry in the next few weeks.
‘I never had the chance to meet Beth,’ she said. ‘But by the way Jelani talked about her, he was obviously very much in love.’
It was another revelation to Sam.
‘Telling Beth’s family is going to be difficult for him,’ he said. ‘Where do they live?’
‘I think it’s a place called Kimathi,’ she said. ‘I’m not sure. But Jelani just kept repeating the word Kimathi over and over. He was too upset to speak.’
On Sam’s latest information, Kimathi was somewhere outside Nakuru with a strong band of bodyguards. Sam had been reasonably sure Jelani Karura was a Mau Mau sympathiser, but now he didn’t know. In the last hour, his view of Jelani had changed. He felt sympathy for his loss, and hoped he would not be foolish enough to try to find Kimathi, who was reportedly not simply committed to the Mau Mau cause, but insane.
As he drove through the winding forest road to Nairobi, he continued to encourage Emerald to talk. She told him about her interests in photography and the course she was taking in London. She wanted to be a photojournalist — a term Sam had not heard before.
Sam recalled Ira’s passion for photography and how he, as a young man scarcely ever out of the village, had been fascinated by it.
At the Norfolk, Sam followed Emerald through the lobby and into the garden. They passed the aviary where golden weaverbirds darted and squabbled, then continued down the frangipani-scented path to the door of a garden suite where Emerald stopped and offered her hand.
‘Thank you,’ she said.
‘Not at all. Perhaps I should stay to help you tell your mother about this.’
She smiled. A little more colour had come to her cheeks. ‘That won’t be necessary.’
‘It’s been a terrible morning for you.’
She nodded. ‘For everyone.’
He said goodbye, and as he joined the path towards the hotel lobby, he heard the cabin door open and a woman’s voice greeting Emerald.
His feet were leaden, and when he reached the aviary where the weavers darted about, squabbling and twittering, he lowered himself to a bench seat. In spite of the birds’ noisy chatter, the tranquility of the garden gave him a respite from the discomforting memories of Lari. It pained him to see his fellow Africans inflicting such savagery upon one another instead of using those energies to win independence from the whites. He’d seen the bloody results of tribal warfare during his days in Abyssinia, but the brutality inflicted by the Mau Mau against their brother Kikuyus had shocked him. It must have been traumatic for the young white girl too, who had shown remarkable courage after witnessing the consequences.