by Iman Verjee
Anthony offered the joint to Jai and he accepted, closing the tip of his mouth around it and understanding that his initial pity was unwarranted. There was nothing sorrowful about this man.
‘What’s your name?’ he asked Jai in Swahili and it was refreshing to meet someone who expected Jai to adjust to him and not the other way around.
‘Jai. I’ve just joined the Student Union.’ He handed back the joint.
‘That’s good news.’ Anthony nodded his approval, took another drag. Steven motioned for the joint but was ignored. ‘We need strong people like you.’ Anthony stuck his arms out from the elbows, imitating a chicken. ‘Not like this guy over here, short like a little girl.’ He gestured at Steven.
Jai and Anthony chuckled and Steven’s face flushed with embarrassment. He reached over and snatched the joint. ‘That’s not funny, Tony.’
‘I told you not to call me that.’
Chastised, Steven retreated into silence.
‘He has no sense of humor,’ Anthony told Jai. ‘Even when the students voted me in to be chairman of the union, he was so upset I had to hand it over to him. What do I need a position like that for anyway?’
‘Is that true?’
Steven refused to answer Jai’s question, hiding himself behind a growing marijuana haze. ‘We’re planning another protest,’ he told Anthony. ‘They shouldn’t have done that to you,’ he added, indicating the fresh injuries.
The man wasn’t impressed by the smooth words, the eyes burrowed in concern. ‘If you want a fight, Steven, then be man enough to say you want one. Don’t pretend this is for me.’ Anthony stretched over for his joint and said to Jai, ‘Did you know Steven here wants to be a politician? Kama those fat men in striped suits with the big briefcases and fancy cars.’ He laughed throatily. ‘He is enjoying all of this attention – KBC, KTV, people are just beginning to know who you are, sindiyo?’
‘Are you going to join us or not?’ Steven’s voice had reached a whine.
‘I’ve never said no to a good fight before.’ Anthony struggled to his feet. ‘When is your next meeting?’
‘Two days from now.’
‘Sawa. See you then.’ They were at the door when Anthony said, ‘I want to talk to Jai alone.’
Steven’s hand hovered at the knob as if trying to force Jai out of the room with him, but it was impossible to be intimidated by him any longer.
‘Don’t be too long, we have work to do,’ he glowered.
‘I didn’t know he wanted to be a politician,’ Jai started, but Anthony raised a finger to his lips.
He whispered, ‘I bet that little rat is trying to listen in on what we are saying.’ Then back in a normal voice, ‘Now that you’ve joined the Union, I want to show you something.’ He pulled out a sheet of lined paper that was creased from constantly folding and unfolding. ‘Read it out loud, please.’
Jai cleared his throat, began.
We labor together in search for
Knowledge and truth.
We bless and honor Thee, we are the pinnacle of
Excellence in knowledge,
Knowledge to serve our mother land (Oh, Kenya),
Knowledge to serve all mankind.
Be not engulfed by pride, let excellence prevail.
May we all shun the pitfall of being the ivory tower.
With sacrifice and dedication, our problems we will overcome.
We are the fountain of knowledge we create and hold the
Vision.
God gives us grace to serve, and the future for us is bright,
And the children
Shall drink from the fountain of knowledge, knowledge
Shall surely set us free (beyond the stars)
Knowledge shall
Surely set them free.
His voice disappeared as he folded the paper back up and placed it delicately on the desk.
‘That’s beautiful. Where did you find it?’
‘I wrote it.’
At Jai’s expression, Anthony laughed, forcing Jai to quickly rearrange his face. ‘I didn’t mean to be insulting.’
‘The university is looking for a school anthem. I want to submit this and I was hoping to get your opinion.’
There was a special feeling that came with being requested into this man’s private life. ‘You write wonderfully,’ Jai encouraged.
‘My parents spent most of their money sending me to school. They sacrificed everything so that one day I could be standing here, in front of you.’ He looked at Jai gravely. ‘Life has not been easy but when I look at this, I am reminded that it has all counted for something. I wrote it for my sister, Enna, so that she will also know how important education is.’
‘Speaking of.’ Jai checked his watch. ‘I have to go because my next class will be starting soon.’
‘Of course.’ Anthony didn’t look up as Jai turned to leave – he was gazing at the poem, his hand hovering above it. ‘You must be very careful of Steven.’ At the warning, Jai stopped at the door. Anthony’s eyes rose slowly. ‘You and I might be fighting for a cause we believe in but Steven is only fighting for himself. Do you understand the difference?’
Jai thought of Michael – perhaps he had been right about Steven all along. He paused, not wanting to leave just yet. ‘See you at the meeting?’
‘Ah, yes.’ Anthony got up and slipped into his chair, the sunlight falling in from the window behind him, entrapping him in gold-flecked dust. ‘See you then.’
His hands were spread lovingly over the smooth desk, traveling in wide, thoughtful circles. His eyes were closed, the shadow of a smile hovering on his lips. It was an image that stayed close to Jai the whole day, many hours after he had left the dorm room and made his way down the long, lonely corridor.
35
On a shady street corner, beneath the stretching, yellow bones of an acacia tree, Jai stood with Steven three days later in front of a KTN news anchor, who was saying, ‘Here we are on the usually busy Uhuru Highway. Today, however, as you can see behind me, it is completely empty.’ The man gestured at the road that was devoid of all cars, motorists having chosen to take diversions rather than risk being stuck in the middle of the strike. ‘Once again, the students of Nairobi University are protesting, but this time, it is not about school fees. It is not about the administration. Today, they are fighting for something much more important. They are fighting for one of their own.’ Here, the camera turned toward Steven. ‘We are talking to Steven Kimani, the chairperson of NUSU. Please tell us why you are here today.’
Steven looked seriously into the camera. He was a handsome man, with an arresting face and pleasing lines, but looking upon him from the sidelines, Jai could see the pretense in every practiced smile, every somber hand to the chest. ‘As the nation knows, the students of the university have been protesting the proposed increase in school fees. We made it clear from the very beginning that we wanted peaceful demonstrations. That we did not wish to use any violence but simply to speak up, to begin conversations…’
Jai turned, tried to find Anthony in the crowd and admitted to himself that he was also hoping to see Michael. Steven continued speaking.
‘However, as usual, the police did not heed our request for peace. They came to attack us with many weapons – guns, tear gas, flares – and we, being bare handed, had to of course use whatever was within our reach – rocks, sticks – because one always has the right to defend oneself.’ The presenter was nodding enthusiastically with every word. ‘As you also know, one of our most important members, Anthony, was unlawfully detained, after being badly injured in the strike.’ Steven pointed to himself. ‘I, the chairperson, went personally to collect him from Chiromo police station. They didn’t allow me to see him for at least three hours and even then to set bail was a troublesome process.’
Jai left him mid-sentence, wandering into the crowd, which was as upbeat as last time – a normal gathering of people, enjoying the excuse not to spend the day l
ocked up in the libraries or lecture rooms.
‘I see Steven is lapping up his time in front of the camera.’ Anthony was limping toward him.
‘It should be you up there, talking to them.’ As Jai spoke, he was jostled and pushed by the students flocking to them. They wore big smiles and greeted Anthony warmly.
‘Sasa, bro?’
‘Good to see you. They almost got you in there, didn’t they?’
Anthony clapped hands, backs and the shoulders of everyone who came up to greet him; he knew and cared for each one personally and they stayed for long moments at his side, always reluctant to move on. As he engaged them in conversation, Jai turned to see that the cameraman was no longer filming. Instead, he was smoking and talking amongst a group of students while Steven was huddled behind the acacia and conversing with the TV presenter in a rapid manner, constantly stretching his neck out from behind the pale bark to see if anyone had noticed them. He shook the presenter’s hand firmly before emerging – hands in his pockets as he ambled toward their group.
On his way, someone handed him the megaphone and he called through it for people to join him. ‘Anthony would like to say a few words.’
As Anthony began reciting his poem, Jai’s eyes were drawn back to the tree. He noticed with surprise, and some unease, that the TV presenter was accompanied by a police officer.
Once Anthony had finished, Steven led the crowd down the street, chanting, ‘Cooom-rade POWER!’ and Jai found something ridiculous about the mantra that had once seemed so thrilling and romantic to him. They were just words now, powerless and empty, and when he shouted them, his throat went dry.
‘Are you alright?’ Anthony came to walk beside him.
‘I thought I saw—’
‘I want you both to walk in the front with me.’ Steven inserted himself between the two of them and pushed Anthony out ahead, beyond Jai’s reach.
The violence erupted quickly. They hadn’t been marching for more than twenty minutes before the first flare shot up into the air, bridging the short distance between the police officers and students, landing less than a meter away from their front line. As the crowd behind them pushed forward eagerly at the provocation, Jai said urgently to Anthony, ‘Stay close to me. I can help you if anything happens.’
They had a clear view of the police, huddled in front of their cars and minivans, and he saw one pull out a tear-gas canister. His eyes and skin stung at the memory but he pushed away his fear.
‘Cooom-rade POWER! Cooom-rade POWER!’
How much he wished they would stop repeating that mundane chant; it was beginning to irk him so he was glad when someone close to him took up a line of Anthony’s poem instead. ‘We labor together in search for / Knowledge and truth.’
The repetitious chant fed into the crowd so that it found its feet at last, bursting forward. The police officers – in helmets and bulletproof vests – shoved at each other while hanging back. ‘Enda! Enda! Come on, go!’ They had shields and guns but there was something imposing about the protest, a quiet strength, led not by Steven but by Anthony, limping yet steadfast, with Jai close to him and them shouting together, ‘We labor together in search for / Knowledge and truth.’
Another tear-gas canister swallowed up some students in its breathless, horror-filled panic. It spread quickly into the crowd behind Jai, breaking it off in many small directions and as the students ran, they scooped up rocks from the roadside, throwing them at will so that even the pedestrians passing had to cower behind trees and cars to avoid being hit.
While Steven joined in the violence, Anthony stayed quiet, marching ever forward. He repeated his poem to himself, helping people up off the road after they had been hit by the tear gas, wiping their eyes with the frayed ends of his jacket. If he came upon someone who was ready to launch a stone or pull up a signpost, Anthony would catch his wrist and say, ‘Think first. What is the point? How will they understand what you are trying to say when you are saying it like an animal?’
During the chaos, Jai glimpsed Steven isolated from the group. At a distance, it looked like he was getting into a tussle with a policeman. Their heads were bent close together, Steven’s hands on the officer’s shoulders, the cop grasping his elbows. But then suddenly and simultaneously, they pulled away from each other and Steven threw himself back into the crowd, his fist raised above his head. Jai could hear him, the fury in his voice, ‘You cannot condemn us unheard!’ and the policeman was heading in Jai’s direction, but when he searched about him he could not find Anthony.
He shouted out his name but it was lost in the thousands of other voices, and he pushed through the crowd roughly, blinking away the residues of tear gas. ‘Anthony! We have to leave,’ he called out, a heavy feeling in his chest – not knowing why they must go, only knowing that they must.
When he finally came to an opening, he spotted a police truck and a familiar limp. He began running, shouting in Swahili, ‘Leave him alone!’ When he reached the officers, he tried to pry them away from Anthony, asking, ‘What are you doing?’
One of them kept his tight hold of Anthony, who had gone with them so peacefully that no one had noticed. The officer said to Jai, ‘You must leave this place. It is becoming dangerous.’
‘He’s done nothing wrong. Let him go.’
‘Disturbing the peace is something very wrong. He must learn his lesson.’
‘What about everyone else? Aren’t you going to arrest me as well?’
‘And have your mzee get me fired?’ the cop scoffed. ‘Enda, go!’ He shook his baton in Jai’s face, just beneath his chin. He had leaned in so close, their noses were almost pressed together and Jai recognized him as the policeman talking to Steven earlier. He tried to reach around him in panic, more certain than ever that something was wrong.
‘Anthony!’ he shouted but was cut off as the policeman’s baton made direct contact with his gut. His breath halted mid-way and his knees hit the tarmac, legs folding beneath him. There followed a heavy kick with an army boot to the same place, right at the navel.
The policeman brought down the baton in a swift swing, right in the center of Jai’s shoulder blades so that he collapsed forward. ‘Now you’ve learned your lesson.’
They had loaded Anthony into the van but before the door slid shut, Jai heard him call out, ‘If you don’t mind, perhaps you can come and get me from the station…’ before the car sped away and Jai was left coughing up a cloud of spiraling dust.
When he finally regained his breath and sat up, he saw Steven standing not two meters away from him.
‘They took Anthony,’ Jai called to him. ‘We have to do something.’
The short man watched the shadow of the van slowly fade and silently turned around to rejoin the group of students. His body blended into theirs, his voice camouflaged within their sounds until Jai could no longer distinguish him and he fell back onto the hot ground, blinded by the sun.
He couldn’t be sure how long he staggered the deserted roads in town, the side streets tarred and gleaming in the heat, the midday sun cracking his skin. Nairobi had never seemed more cruel, indifferent to the pounding ache that refused to leave his temples or the sharp stabbing in his side. When he finally found a taxi, Jai’s throat was so parched that the words choked him and came out in gasps.
‘Chiromo police station.’
He borrowed the driver’s mobile phone to call his father, handing it back with a fifty shilling note.
When Raj arrived at the police station, he found his son in a furious debate with one of the officers sitting at the desk.
‘You can’t hold him without cause!’ Jai was shouting. ‘I’ll pay the bail if it’s a matter of money – I’ll give you however much you want.’
Raj forced his son to be still. ‘What happened to you?’
‘These guys beat me up.’
The policeman cowered under Raj’s stare. ‘Not me, mzee. I’ve been sitting behind this desk all day long.’
‘They have my
friend in there. They took him during the protests – only him,’ Jai said, clinging to Raj’s forearms, reminding him how young his son still was. ‘Something is not right, Dad. I have to get him out.’
‘What’s the reason for holding the boy?’
‘Disturbance of peace. He was being violent and it was either shoot or arrest him.’
Jai’s protestations were becoming weaker as the throbbing in his head turned to a steady pain. ‘I was there the whole time and he never did anything like that.’
‘I’ll pay the bail for him.’
‘Sorry, mzee, I can’t help you this time. The court date will be set tomorrow and then you can come and fetch him if you wish, sawa?’
‘Not sawa.’ Jai slammed his fist down on the desk and winced.
Raj held his son back. ‘There’s nothing we can do for him now. I promise we’ll come back first thing tomorrow. We have to get you to a doctor.’
Jai ignored his concerns. ‘I can’t just leave him here.’
‘Jai?’
A worried voice from the door and Raj saw a short, light-skinned man moving forward into the station, sweat stains butterflying out from his armpits.
A flash before Raj’s eyes – he stumbled back in shock as his son reached out and grabbed the man’s collar and said, ‘Hey, you little shit, what are you up to?’
The man held up his hands in surrender. ‘I’ve come to fetch Anthony. What happened to you?’
‘Don’t pretend like you didn’t see me lying there when they took Anthony away.’ The room was spinning and Jai’s anxiety was making it more and more difficult to stand. The floors began to slope and slide, the desk pulled away from him. He leaned against his father’s steady weight.
‘You should go home now.’ Steven’s voice sounded far away – ‘I will get Anthony out – don’t trouble yourself, everything will be okay’ – before the world split apart beneath his feet.
Jai hid a grimace as Leena accidentally brushed up against him. His stomach was badly injured and even the slightest movement sent a ripple effect of hot pain through his body and set his head and teeth ringing. He lay with his neck tilted upward, catching tiny hiccups of air.