by Wole Soyinka
‘I wanted you here to bless you, Aminatu.’
The old woman struggled to sit up under the net, and the flies stirred.
‘During the day, it’s flies,’ she complained on a momentary tangent. ‘At night, it’s mosquitoes. Like they are shift workers. I don’t understand it. This net is treated.’
‘You don’t need a treated net, Mama. You need to keep yourself clean and work out an effective water and sewage system so the flies and mosquitoes won’t have anywhere to breed.’
‘Temisha.’ It was the first time Mama had called her that. ‘When you lef—. When you were taken from me – you carried my strength with you.’ She shrugged. ‘You needed it more than me then, but now, I need it back; and I am willing to pay you for it.’
Temisha raised an eyebrow. Ananse had assured them Mama’s faculties were sharp, but delusion suddenly seemed to be infecting her speech.
‘I sealed some of my riches in the Future for you,’ she kept talking. ‘Diamonds. Gold. Oil. Natural gas. Not in the amounts I once had, but enough for a smart person to do something with. I need you to go to the Future, and use what I left to make my legacy great again. Promise me.’
Temisha wasn’t sure what her mother was asking. Either way, Mama didn’t wait for an answer.
‘I want to see Xiomara next.’
Temisha held the door open for the sister she had been chained to for part of the march to the ships.
That they were both enslaved should have bonded them for ever, and to some extent it did. But they had fundamental differences over the best way to carry the history. To Temisha, Xio (and their brother João, for that matter) was too cavalier about the impact of their enslavement. Xio felt Temisha had allowed it to swallow her.
One specific point of contention Temisha had was that Xio did not correct her children when they referred to themselves as ‘Afro-descended’, ‘Garifuna’, ‘Creole’, or ‘Mestizo’ – anything but Black.
‘Why should they call themselves “Black” when they are mixed blood, Temisha? You Americans and your one-drop-ruled identity. It’s dishonest, and it lets our captors off the hook.’
‘You are the dishonest ones. No matter how light, or bleached, your skin, how straightened your hair, how straight your nose, you are African.’
‘You Americans have to own the discourse on everything.’
‘If you don’t own, you are owned.’
When the door shut behind Xio, Temisha wished for a moment she could be one of the flies on Mama’s net.
Xio entered Mama’s room singing the lullaby Mama used to serenade them with.
‘Wá wá . . .’ she began, and the old woman joined her. ‘Wá wá . . . Quietly, listen to me. My child, don’t cry. Don’t cry, my child. Mama is here. Don’t cry, don’t cry for your mother.’
They let the lyrics hang in the air between them, reflecting separately on the memory.
‘Even when you were far from me, you felt near,’ Mama said, blowing air on the damp silence.
Xio reached under the net to thread their fingers together. She didn’t feel the same way.
‘I held on to what I could, Mama, but I am different from what I would have been, and I know that. It’s just how it is. I am yours, but I am mine too.’
Her mother began to cry. A Nile of blood ran from her eyes because it hurts when a child’s path leads away from you.
Xio lifted the net fully and crawled in next to her mother; rocking her as she ached to be rocked. It was odd, Xio thought, and magical, how the old became babies again. ‘Quietly, listen to me. Mama, don’t cry. Xio is here. Don’t cry, don’t cry for your daughter . . .’
The old woman shook her head stubbornly. If she were standing, Xio was sure Mama would have stamped her feet. ‘I delivered you. Now, I need you to deliver me.’
Xio smiled as she blotted her mother’s tears with the hem of her dress. Only Mama would make such a demand. ‘Mama, I love you,’ was all she would say before calling Musa to take her place.
Mama’s firstborn son adjusted the loosened net and tucked it under Mama’s mattress to secure her from the flies. He noticed the tattoo – a small Chinese symbol – emerging through her tear-streaked make-up. He was not ignorant of China’s growing influence over his mother. No one was, the way the two of them were carrying on. China was laying roads and erecting businesses all over her. But Musa couldn’t believe Mama would take his mark on her face.
‘Haven’t you learned from your mistakes, Mama? Do you really think China will save you?’
‘If you care so much what happens to me, Musa,’ she said, ‘mind your business.’
In other words, China was doing the business of saving her that Musa was not. Mama had a way of making her problems other people’s fault.
‘Mama, I am not the reason you are in this state. You are.’
‘When I needed you most, you and your siblings abandoned me.’
‘You were unable to take care of us, Mama. You squandered our inheritance. We didn’t know when our next meal was coming. We weren’t being educated. You expected us to stay and suffer with you through that?’
‘I expected – and expect – you to stay and help me rebuild, the way Ananse did.’
‘Mama, what has Ananse rebuilt? Mismanagement? Corruption? Famine? Poverty? A haven for flies, mosquitoes, all manner of communicable disease, and fundamentalists? If so, he has done a masterful job.’
‘Is this how they talk to mothers in the country you have run to?’
Musa suppressed an exasperated chuckle. Oh, Mama.
‘Mama, I love you too much to lie to you. Things have to change now.’
‘I can’t do it by myself, Musa. I need you and your siblings.’
‘What do you want from us, Mama?’
‘I want more than the money you give to assuage your guilt. I want you to come home and take care of me till you find the Future.’
Musa nodded, patronisingly. ‘Yes, Mama. Yes. Temisha told us all about the treasure you buried in the Future. Where exactly is the Future? Does Ananse know?’
Musa strode to the door and peered out to shout.
‘Ananse! Do you know where the Future is?’
Ananse took his opportunity to enter the room. He knew from Temisha and Xio that their mother had revealed the hidden fund, but he couldn’t determine how much detail the old woman had shared. Had she told them exactly how much was in the Future?
‘Musa, I wanted this conversation to be between you and me.’
‘Mama, the closed-door conversations have to stop. It’s time for transparency.’ He called his other siblings into the room.
In her youth, Mama would have put ginger in Musa’s anus for defying her this way, but the Past was now the Present; and these kids were the key to her Future. She saw pity and sadness and distance in their eyes. She needed to remind them of who she was. Who they were by extension. They needed to have faith in her again.
‘I wasn’t always on this bed,’ she said. ‘It is imperative that you don’t forget. Otherwise, you will miss the Future.’
She continued, ‘I don’t mean the Immediate. I’m talking about the Long Term – where I hid a reserve for all of you.’
Ananse took the opportunity to assert ownership. ‘Mama, I remember the moon as our only witness as we dug to the Future. I will never forget because I was there.’
‘You left early, Ananse. Remember? I made seven more hiding places.’
Ananse felt his scalp catching fire. After all the time he had invested in Mama, his portion was to be equal?
Aesop gave his brother a consolatory clap on the back. ‘The Future belongs to every soul blessed to meet it, and every soul able to seize it.’
‘Mama, you can’t expect us to go on some kind of scavenger hunt for you. We’ve made lives elsewhere,’ Xiomara reminded her.
‘Elsewhere is for strangers, and that’s what you’ll always be anywhere but Here. The hunt is for you and me.’
‘How do we get
to this Future?’ Yauwii asked. Once upon a time, the kids had accused her of loving Yauwii most, but what mother didn’t love the child who humoured her without making her feel humoured?
‘You dig until you find it.’
‘That’s it?’ Musa snorted. ‘Simple as that?’
‘No,’ Mama shook her head. ‘Hard as that. But you’ve done harder.’
from the forthcoming novel Azotus, the Kingdom
Shadreck Chikoti
The Occupant
For many years Kamoto had not thought of going outside. The world outside offered him nothing that he could not find within the confines of his own home. He always had enough air to breathe and food to eat. Even if he fancied connecting with distant places, he was happy to do so through the convenience of the Telecommunication Curtain – the TC – he had in his living room.
On rare occasions he would get a chance to peek through the front door. This usually happened when the Room Service girls showed up to deliver things like food, groceries or clothes. Or when they came to clean the house and appliances. Since it was he who had to open the front door in order for the workers to come in, on more than one such occasion he caught himself peering through the door. But neither the need nor the thought of exploration ever crossed Kamoto’s mind.
But recently, Kamoto had made the habit of going out at dusk to watch the sun go down. Even though he could watch this natural phenomenon on the screen of his living room TC, it did not take him long to conclude that it was in too many ways unlike the real thing. The actual sunset appeared to him to be much bigger, much brighter, much more varied in its display of colours. Untamed.
Today, he found himself carrying a chair outside to sit while he watched the sun slowly descend beyond the mountains. Sometimes, it seemed like the sun was heading for the yawning mouth of a cave which dominated the face of the largest mountain. The range of mountains in the distance had the effect of creating what seemed like a boundary of all that existed, almost as if this was the very edge of the world.
Each time Kamoto came out to watch the sunset, he felt altered but he had not found the right words to describe it. The best he could come up with was that his heart felt lighter and he breathed much easier.
He sat with his legs stretched in front of him, occasionally lifting and suspending them in the air for a while before bringing them down again.
A flock of birds – crows – flew across the sky above him, cawing as they went their way towards the direction of the sun. They’d been doing this every day he’d been outside at sunset and now a week had gone by. He figured that the birds were returning to their nests, and that his house just happened to be on their route. There was only one day when the birds had veered slightly to the west of where they usually flew.
Why had he not come outside more often? He wondered? But as quickly as the question had been asked, he decided that it was the wrong one. He rephrased it: Why have I spent my whole life indoors? But still he could come up with no answer.
The clouds had a shiny silver grey lining against the backdrop of the blue skies, giving the birds a domain in which they played freely. On the ground below, the trees were big enough to compete with the grandiosity of the mountains. The intricate details of nature’s beauty made him feel he was at one with his surroundings.
His neighbour’s house, directly in front of his own, was a large dwelling surrounded by a picket fence. Matching the white of the fence was the paint of the metallic doors of the house, as well as its white walls, rising up to a bright red roof that consummated it all like a burning flame. The roof made the house stand out. Presently there was one large bird contentedly perched on the satellite ball that was on the rooftop.
For the seven days that he had now been coming out, Kamoto had not seen anyone come in or out of the house across from his. He had not even heard so much as a ruffle or whisper to signify that the house was inhabited. Perhaps that’s why he had not really noticed it there. Perhaps this explained why he had not noticed all the other houses, for he now saw that there were several. But with all the trees in the area, the other houses would have been impossible to see from indoors.
By now the sun was beginning to dip beyond the mountains, so Kamoto decided to get on with taking stock of his surroundings. He got up from his chair, stretched his limbs and neck to relax his muscles, and came down the steps of his front porch to get a better view of his house. He walked further out from the facade, far enough to get as wide a view of his roof as possible. And his expectation of a touch of uniqueness in the design of his house was quickly disappointed. His roof was as red as his neighbours’, his house was just as large, and a large satellite ball, similar to that of his neighbour, sat on the rooftop. Electric bulbs lit the sides of his roof, bright enough to give light to all sides of the house. He followed the illuminated path to the back of the house where a surprisingly wide yard welcomed him, with neatly cut grass flanked by a colourful array of flowers growing on all sides.
Two birds chased each other in excitement around this pristine garden, taking off from and landing on one branch after another. While his eyes followed them on their random trail, his sight was led to the back wall of his house and he was shocked to find that there were neither doors nor windows on that entire wall. As the birds flew further out towards the edges of his fence, he noticed rocks, big boulders sculpted and arranged in a pattern of deliberate design, with one boulder shaped like a canoe. The rock structure was coming out of the ground. There was a water pipe which ran across the surface of the rock, drawing water from some source beneath and continuously pouring the water out again into the fountain that bubbled in front of the rock.
Further out into the very back of the yard, he saw more large trees, good for shade. He would have examined his house further, but the darkness that was quickly descending around him made him think better of the idea.
Tina had been watching Kamoto with keen interest the whole time. The oversized dark-green leaves of the trees in front of the picket fence of the house across the road afforded Tina a perfect spot from which to observe everything Kamoto was doing without being seen herself. Tina was sure that Kamoto had seen her when he got up from his chair and started down the front steps of his house and walked towards his fence. She had no choice but to stay put until she was sure that Kamoto had not seen her, hoping against hope that her cover had not been blown. She was just about to resign herself to the prospect of getting caught when Kamoto reached the fence and turned around to admire his house. What she felt after that was more than relief. It was gratitude.
As Kamoto strolled towards the side of his house to go into the back yard, Tina became more curious about him. Seeing an Occupant outside was enough of a shock, but seeing one acting as freely outdoors as they were indoors was unimaginable. Maybe Kamoto had been doing this for a long time, she thought, perhaps at night when everyone was asleep. But she decided that was mere guess work. So she just continued to watch.
While Kamoto was surveying the back of his house, there was not much for Tina to see. She dipped her hand into the left side pocket of the small green bag that hung securely across her shoulder. After fingering the inside of the pocket for a few seconds, she pulled out a small metal device and a glass pad. She proceeded to attach the device on the tip of her forefinger. The thought of taking notes of the observations she was making of Kamoto made her feel in control, but just as she was about to turn to a blank screen on the glass pad, that sense of control gave way to alarm. She quickly pulled off the writing device, and put it back in her purse, together with the pad. She was feeling the beginnings of a sneeze, and as numb as her legs had started feeling from squatting behind the tree for so long, she knew she could trust one hand to steady her and another to cover her mouth and nose in the now-more-than-likely event.
As she waited for Kamoto to emerge from behind the house, Tina turned her thoughts and questions inward. Was it right for her to be stalking him this way? Didn’t Occupants, like all the subj
ects in Azotus’ kingdom, have the freedom and right to wander around outdoors even if no one else found it worth the bother? Tina pondered these questions briefly, but concluded that if Kamoto had the right to wander around outside his home, then she likewise had the right to watch him from her stake-out spot, even if for no other reason than to satisfy her curiosity. She finally sneezed. It was loud enough not only to break the trail of her thoughts, but also to be heard across the street. She knew that what little camouflage she got from the leaves was about to be undone by the sneeze. She looked up to see if there was any movement at Kamoto’s house, only to find that he was now back on the front porch, about to enter. And, as if startled by a sudden noise from behind him, Kamoto turned abruptly and Tina feared the worst. The panic returned, but was gone just as quickly, for Kamoto looked down when he turned, examining the leg of his chair, which had apparently snapped with a cracking sound, giving Kamoto reason to pick it up and carry it the rest of the way. Tina knew it had been another close call, perhaps a signal for her to go home.
Tina looked at the front door of Kamoto’s house and noted the house number, G8. She was about to pull out her glass pad again to record the number but immediately thought better of the idea after an unpleasant memory flashed before the screen of her mind. She had once written down the number of another house, AC52, because she heard music coming from inside while she passed by; music she had never heard before and she thought she could use the house number on her TC to identify what the music was. But she was amazed when her supervisor had quizzed her about it.
‘I was on duty distributing food to Occupants, and I wrote down the house number so that I could know where to pick up from the next day.’ She had difficulty convincing the supervisor with this excuse, and he did not seem to buy it, but it was the best she could come up with. It wasn’t necessary for Room Service personnel to write down the numbers of the houses where they had distributed food. No one went to any house for any reason without being given instructions to do so from their superiors. It was Azotus’ way of running an efficient system so that every Occupant would have everything they needed at exactly the time and in exactly the way they needed it. Tina knew that she should have come up with a better answer.