Wizard of the Crow

by Ngũgĩ Wa Thiong

  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, and 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.

  “Why did Africa let Europe cart away millions of Africa’s souls from the continent to the four corners of the wind? How could Europe lord it over a continent ten times its size? Why does needy Africa continue to let its wealth meet the needs of those outside its borders and then follow behind with hands outstretched for a loan of the very wealth it let go? How did we arrive at this, that the best leader is the one who knows how to beg for a share of what he has already given away at the price of a broken tool? Where is the future of Africa? I cried.

  “I saw this: Around the seventeenth century, Europe impregnated some in Africa with its evil. These pregnancies gave birth to the slave driver of the slave plantation, who mutated into the colonial driver of the colonial plantation, who years later mutated into the neocolonial pilots of the postcolonial plantation. Is he now mutating into a modern driver and pilot of a global plantation? But Africa impregnated its own breed, which made our people sing, Even if you kill our heroes, we women are pregnant with hope of a new lot. Therefore, don’t cry despair at those who sold the heritage; smile also with pride at the achievements of those that struggle to rescue our heritage.

  “So I said to myself: Just as today is born of the womb of yesterday, today is pregnant with tomorrow.

  “What kind of tomorrow was Aburiria pregnant with? Of unity or murderous divisions? Of cries or laughter? Our tomorrow is determined by what we do today. Our fate is in our hands.

  “This thought must have been with me when, in a message to Ma-chokali, I wrote: Take care. The country is pregnant. What it will bear, nobody knows. I left the note for Machokali because he was then the eyes of our country outside the country.

  “But I had forgotten that in Aburiria the nation and the Buler are one. And that is why I have come here with my armed friends to tell you the truth about my role in the origins of the rumor that the Buler is pregnant.”

  No sooner had the import of what he was saying dawned on the assembly than women started ululating as men whistled and cried out: “Tell us more! When will he give birth?”

  24

  The Ruler’s pain subsided and he returned to watching television just in time to catch the cheering. He had not been able to follow the confessions of the wizard, but the sight of people laughing
and calling out for more did not particularly lift his spirits. He was a director helplessly watching his actors straying from the script.

  He called Big Ben Mambo and told him to tell the Wizard of the Crow to stop talking about this pregnancy nonsense and get on with the task of locating Nyawlra. The pain erupted once again, forcing him to cut off further conversation with the minister. His contractions were violent, excruciating, but whenever they allowed he would greedily take in what was being shown on television.

  Big Ben Mambo told the assembly that they should stop spreading slander about male pregnancies now that they had heard the confessions of a lying scamp, this man who claims to travel in bird form and to see, in mirrors, what is hidden from the eyes of the ordinary mortal.

  “My people, we shall give him a chance to demonstrate his skills before this august assembly of free citizens. Let him exploit his mirrors to expose the enemies of the State. Wizard of the Crow, where is Nyawlra? Over there are mirrors. Show us where Nyawlra is! Once you have done that, you must then cleanse this crowd of the daemons of queuing, and the women of the daemons of violence against men. After that, you are free to go. The price of failure? A firing squad in front of all these people.”

  It took a few seconds for the meaning of Big Ben Mambo’s words to sink in. Some in the crowd stood up defiantly. How dare you accuse us of being possessed by daemons? Did you say that we need to be cleansed! others shouted menacingly. Why don’t we chase the