‘You ol’ witch woman, Jagua. What you done with Nancy? What you done with my daughter?’ She gripped Jagua by the wrist, but Jagua broke free and raced for her clothes with Ma Nancy in pursuit.
Ma Nancy was yelling like a woman gone mad. ‘Jagua done drown my daughter! … Jagua done kill Nancy Oll. You done kill am!’
She began to run towards the palace. Boys and girls on their way to the wells crowded the path and stared after her. ‘De ol’ witch done kill my daughter! … Lord ’ave mercy! I come for Bagana to lose me daughter. Jagua done kill Nancy! … Give me my Nancy, de only daughter I got! …’
The anger had gone from Jagua; in its place grew fear. If indeed Nancy was killed by the Krinameh people and her body floated down in a canoe, the blame would be hers. But she had not meant to drown Nancy, or to kill her, only to teach her a lesson. Her fingers were unsteady. She managed to fix on her clothes, and then she began running back to the palace. Never had it taken her so long to get there.
14
Jagua saw Mama Nancy waiting in the lounge. Presently Uncle Namme, eyes reddened with sleep and swollen by O.H.M.S., came out. He pointed at Jagua.
‘What have you done? Didn’t I warn you? You went and pushed Nancy into the river? You drove her into the hands of the Krinameh people … Lord!’ He held his head in his hands.
Ma Nancy shouted. ‘De ol’ witch woman mus’ be hang. Bloody harlot!’
‘Uncle Namme, ah never dream of dat. We only quarrellin’ an’ I follow de gal to teach am sense. And den—’
‘Oh, dear me!’ Uncle Namme paced up and down. His sleeping clothes were rumpled and his eyes were shining large. ‘They will torture her. They will kill her. Is too late now. And she’s my guest: such a good dancer! …’ He saw a man passing in front of the palace. ‘I say there! Go at once! Beat the war drums!’
The man looked startled. ‘This morning, Your Highness? Wha’s de matter? We going to fight anybody?’
‘You heard me! … I said go and beat the war drums! And don’t stand there arguing!’
The cry was instantly taken up. ‘Beat the war drums! … Beat the war drums! …’ In the courtyard there was a fever of movement. Men and women were rushing about in all directions, while the goats bleated and dropped faeces as they vanished into safe nooks. The war drummers came, the same three men whom Jagua had seen the evening before. They beat, but this time, the sound of the drum was hollow and carried a grim loneliness.
All over Bagana men were yelling and diving into their houses only to emerge flourishing cutlasses and dane guns. They were answering a call to war. They came to the palace, bare torsoed, in shorts. They came ready to fight. Uncle Namme stood at the door of the palace. He spoke harshly to them, pointing at the tallest of them, who now came forward. He was speaking to the Bagana people and Jagua could not understand what he said, but she gathered that the tall man had been made the leader of the expedition against Chief Ofubara of Krinameh. Their duty was to capture Nancy Oll. The men were receiving orders to fit out the war canoes, to bring them out from hiding, to arm and to sail for Krinameh. Uncle Namme clapped his hands, and the men briskly disappeared. Jagua could see that he had become a different man, no longer the genial host. He was tense, distant and she could not dare to look him in the face.
Ma Nancy was cursing her aloud. ‘You harlot woman. You not goin’ to die well. You goin’ to die in de gutter. Vulture will chop you eye!’
Uncle Namme raised his hand. ‘Be patient. Ma Nancy, I know how you’re feeling. Nancy’s a fine gal. D.V. nothing will happen to her. We all love her. The whole of Bagana.’
When Uncle Namme went into a room, Jagua followed him. He was still pacing about like a man in a dream. In the courtyard the women had assembled and were dancing and yelling, working up the heat. They carried staves which occasionally they flung at the wall facing Krinameh. Jagua knelt before Uncle Namme.
He looked haughtily beyond her. ‘Don’t come near me! You started all this nonsense! I should take you up now and lock you inside. Yes, we have a prison. Better still, I should take you and fling you into the waters of Krinameh. Then you’ll know what it’s like.’
‘Pardon, Your Highness. I want to go there. I want to go for dis Krinameh. Me one.’
Uncle Namme stopped walking. ‘What?’
‘I beg you not to sen’ man-o-war canoe to Krinameh. Or dere goin’ to be plenty people kill. Uncle Namme, is me who cause all dis palaver. So let me go an’ see Chief Ofubara.’
Uncle Namme glared at her where she sat, meek and repentant.
‘What d’you think you can do? Suppose Chief Ofubara captures you also; that will make two. No! I refuse!’
Jagua began to cry aloud. ‘Uncle Namme, ah beg you for allow me. Ah will go dere an’ ask Chief Ofubara to take me, instead of Nancy. I prepare to make de sacrifice. I prepare for take de risk.’
Uncle Namme held his sides and laughed. He laughed with his throat and tongue, and then sat down. ‘You’re joking! You don’ know Chief Ofubara. He’s my own blood. Wicked man! You don’ know him. Ha, ha! …’
But Jagua was adamant. ‘Ah don’ mind, Your Highness! Me begin all dis trouble. So, if you kin let me. Ah goin’ dere an’ ask Chief Ofubara to kill me, if he like, but to lef’ Nancy. I wan’ you to give me good canoeman for take me dere. When ah go an’ I don’ come back quick or you don’ see Nancy, den you kin sen’ your army.’ She looked up into his eyes and saw the faintest flicker of indecision. ‘You goin’ to waste innocent young men. Dis not matter of force or power. If you sen’ your men with power, den Chief Ofubara will fight with power too. But when he see a simple woman like me, what he goin’ to do? He goin’ to laugh …’
Uncle Namme looked at the kneeling Jagua. He lifted his eyes and looked right ahead of him and said with decision. ‘Go and make ready. I shall get my best oarsman to take you. But if you are not back, or if I don’t see Nancy within twenty-four hours, there shall be smoke and blood in Krinameh Creek.’
Jagua prostrated flat before him. He looked down at her and smiled. ‘Rise now. Time is going!’
‘God go bless you, Uncle Namme.’
Jagua rose and walked towards her room, scowling at Mama Nancy who was still waiting in the lounge.
In less than an hour she had made herself really Jagwa. The effect pleased her. It was like bringing the Tropicana chorus girls in a helicopter and dropping them among the mud-skippers, the stilt roots of the mangrove, the paper-light canoes that skidded on the salt water. They would be objects of wonder and speculation. Jagua felt like a hunter who has smelt out the lion in a forest, wounded but concealed. All her wits must be about her, for there was no knowing when the enemy would strike and what his latent powers were.
When she appeared before Uncle Namme the look in his eye was a reward. All men looked at her like that when she was really Jagwa. It compensated for all the polishing, scrubbing and brushing that resulted in the Jagwa gloss, characteristic of racing steeds.
‘De canoeman ready, Your Highness?’
‘He’s been waitin’ some time now.’
She walked down to the beach with them gazing about Bagana in her sunshade and caring little for the looks which she received. She had chosen the brightest lipstick in her bag, her blouse was sleeveless and cut so low that only the tips of her breasts were covered. The skirt was so tight she could not take a stride of more than six inches at a time. It was a grey skirt with three big buttons down the front and a big split down the back. Her olive-skinned calves were fully on show and her feet were barely kissed by openwork wedge-heeled shoes. She carried a plastic handbag and wore a wig which almost succeeded in altering her into a Malayan or an Indian lovely.
On the beach, two men were glad to lift her into the canoe. Although Krinameh was clearly visible from Bagana in the afternoon, the journey took over an hour. The canoeman sang as he paddled but maintained his distance. Jagua sat stern and stately, a Tropicana princess in the mangrove creeks of Krinameh.
On Kr
inameh beach the youths treated her with the deference she had seen reserved for royal persons like Uncle Namme. She was surprised to find that they took it for granted she had come to see Chief Ofubara. They showed her into his lounge where she sat looking at the identical portrait which she had seen in the Namme lounge at Bagana. When he appeared in person, Chief Ofubara was not quite so young as in the picture. His eyes had grown fairly puffy and his manner less debonair. He wore a silk shirt, tied a georgette lappa about his waist and carried a fly whisk. An attendant – a boy of about fourteen – stood beside him.
‘You from where?’
‘From Lagos, Your Highness. I come to spen’ my leave in Bagana, an’ das where I see your picture in de house of Uncle Namme.’
Chief Ofubara smiled. ‘Welcome! You are very fair, my lady.’
Jagua smiled and acted shy. ‘I like dis Krinameh very much.’
Chief Ofubara beamed. ‘It’s a fine place. We’re still trying to build. We’ve had our troubles, you know …’ He talked about the rift between him and the Nammes, about the prospects of education in the island of Krinameh, and about trade. ‘All the agencies are in the hands of the Nammes. But we shall make a headway. We are working slowly …’ He clapped his hands in the Namme manner. A decanter arrived, and he offered Jagua some O.H.M.S. ‘Is what we drink here, to forget the world … Tell me about Lagos. Are they still dividing themselves into smaller and smaller political parties? … We shall never progress that way, you know! We need to unite!’
‘You believe in unity? Den why you separate from de Namme family. Why you don’ work with dem?’
He fixed his eyes on her. But she was certain he was not looking at her, but beyond her. ‘You got it wrong, my dear. You’re a stranger. You only go by what you hear; and you’ve heard only one side.’
He poured out the story of Bagana, and when he had finished Jagua saw Chief Ofubara in a new light. She saw that he was not a man who wanted strife. It was he who had withdrawn from the case, because he felt that too much money was being wasted while the people suffered. He still valued the love and friendship which had always existed in the family. He wanted education, trade, development for Krinameh and for Bagana. But as things were, no one would make the move. There was suspicion between the two families and unless an outside force united them, they could never come together. Instead of coming together they kept on circulating tales and these tales became distorted and served only to widen the gap.
‘We are all Africans, and we must come together. There is no time for petty squabbles. As for me, I never go anywhere. I remain here in Krinameh and help my people. But if anyone seeks me out and puts his finger into my eye, then I must fight.’ He talked loftily, and Jagua was impressed. He had been described to her as wicked, but she found him sober and of progressive views.
Not once had she mentioned her mission. She let him talk, and as he talked an idea began forming in her mind. It would be a very daring thing to accomplish, but she would try.
‘I got somethin’ to tell you,’ Jagua said.
‘Plenty of time.’ He went on talking about the future of Krinameh, Bagana, and the Bagana people who were split and scattered by petty strife and as a result were living in exile. ‘I like talking to you. We agree on many things.’ He smiled. ‘I’ve never met so intelligent a lady.’
Jagua remembered the twenty-four-hour limit which Uncle Namme had given her so as to produce results. She remembered also that rushing Chief Ofubara might produce the wrong kind of result. And in the meantime, Nancy must be languishing in the hands of her captors.
To fill in the time before lunch Chief Ofubara suggested he showed her round the palace. He took her to the museum, the oracle house, the office, the dining room with chairs which he said were presented to his grandfather by the Portuguese. Finally they came to a special room. It was lined with silk and smelt strongly of rich forest woods. Spanning the middle of the room was a huge four-poster with enormous spring mattresses and a velvet bedspread with decorative patterns.
‘Very fine room,’ Jagua said.
‘The bedroom,’ Chief Ofubara told her. ‘Fit for a queen, eh? My wives come to me here. I have only three wives and they each got their own place. My wives come to me here when I send for them.’
Jagua took out a fan and waved it in front of her bosom. A sigh escaped from her parted lips. Impulsively she flopped into a chair. ‘Oh, am tired.’
Chief Ofubara leaned over her. ‘Is my own fault. Come and rest here.’ He took her by the hand and led her across to a sofa.
‘Thank you,’ Jagua said. She was carelessly sprawled on the sofa, and one of the buttons on her skirt had come off, showing her thigh. She tried to inject into the look she gave the Chief, a feeling of intense desire for him.
‘May I sit down too? Am also tired.’ He shifted her and sat down. It was very silent. A curious light glowed in the room and wild incenses haunted her blood. He was a very big man, and though she was by no means small, he made her feel small. ‘You must sleep in this room … We got a lot of fine women in Krinameh. But they’re not like you. You’re fine too, and you got refinement … You’ve seen the world …’ She felt his breath on her ears, alcoholic, stirring the blood.
‘I don’ come here to sleep, Your Highness … I come to beg you some favour.’
‘You are very fair, my lady.’
‘It is a big favour. And I am afraid to start.’
‘Go on.’ He took her hand. He leaned over the hand and kissed it. He had wild moustaches that tickled her skin. ‘Where you come from? I mean your home?’
‘My hometown is Ogabu,’ Jagua smiled. ‘I be Ogabu lady.’
‘All the women in Ogabu fine like you? I must get my next wife from there.’
Jagua giggled. She shook her shoulders in the reckless laughter of a bad woman wanting to be seduced. Chief Ofubara took the hint and put his arm on her shoulder. She let it rest there but when the hand touched her breast she pushed it away and gave him a reproving look. ‘Excuse!’
‘You look like queen, Madam. Your husband is a lucky man.’
‘Why?’ Jagua giggled and spoke in a very small voice. ‘But suppose I got no husband. And I jus’ by myself?’
‘You’ll still be nice.’
Jagua swung to her feet, but the Chief held her back. ‘You’re too hot-tempered. Have I said anythin’ rude?’
‘You only jus’ know me today, and you tryin’ to sleep me. Suppose, if your wife come and meet we inside here now?’
He glanced at the door. ‘They never come to my bedroom unless I send for them. I’ve told you!’
Jagua spoke in her sweetest voice. ‘I no come for dat. I only come to Bagana on visit. Den de accident happen dis morning and your boys catch de gal from Bagana.’
‘Accident? Tell me about it. I hope you were not wounded?’
‘Das what I tryin’ to tell you all dis time.’ She gave him the full details of the adventure with Nancy Oll. She told him what she feared might have happened since then. ‘I want you to use all de power you have to release de poor gal. De fault is from me.’ She threw herself at his feet and began to cry. ‘De gal done nothin’ to you or David Namme. She’s not from dis area. Now de young men catch her and goin’ to kill her, like she done dem somethin’.’
‘No, no, no, my dear lady! Rise.’ He helped her to her feet and rested her on the settee. ‘I give you my word. No one has any right to punish the girl. They usually show me anyone they capture. I’ll go now and have her released. I’m sure they’re waiting till I come round and see her. Excuse me! I’ll not be long.’ He left her and she felt very excited.
He did not come back for about an hour. Jagua slackened the buttons on her blouse and skirt. She relaxed her legs across the settee, and with her head on the armrest, shut her eyes and feigned sleep. Through half-shut eyes she saw him come in and there was a triumphant smile on his face. He tiptoed to where she lay and leaning over, tickled her lips with his moustache. Then he went back and sh
ut the door.
‘You sleepin’?’ He was standing over her. She lay still, eyes shut. The Chief knelt beside her. She felt his hand on her skirt button, the central button. But it was too tight and his fingers were too clumsy to undo the catch. Slowly Jagua rose and yawned. She pretended not to know what had happened.
‘Sorry, sleep catch me. I too tire. You done return?’
‘Come to the bed!’ His eyes were blue and his manner urgent.
‘No, Your Highness. Dis place is all right. I don’ feel sleep any more. What about de gal?’
‘I’ve sent her back in a canoe to Bagana. You happy now?’
‘God bless you! I know dat you’re a good man. No matter what dem say ’bout you. Is only enemy talk.’
‘Lissen Jagua … I like you. I’m going to give you a wardrobe fit for a princess. Just something, so you can remember the day you met Chief Ofubara of Krinameh—’
‘Tenk you, Your Highness; but you only know me today!’
‘Today’s enough. Life is too short, Jagua.’
She could see that he had become infatuated with her. She saw through his loneliness for David and Uncle Namme, his need for someone with whom he could exchange ideas. He was looking at her with adoration in his eyes. She knew exactly the type of man she was dealing with: a Provincial, who was more readily infatuated with the idea of Lagos, of the Tropicana-type woman than with the woman herself. In her estimation he was becoming like a man in a daze. Confronted by the headlights of Jagua’s glamour before which all his wives and all the women he was likely to come across paled, he was becoming like putty in her hands.
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