‘Yes, you have said it,’ Matigari answered. Then he asked the worker, ‘Do you know if Ngaruro wa Kiriro has been arrested?’
‘I don’t know, but I heard the police say that they were looking for him everywhere. He somehow managed to slip through their fingers,’ the worker said.
‘Where have truth and justice gone to in this country?’ Matigari said as he remembered Ngaruro wa Kiriro and how he had helped him to his feet earlier in the day,
‘I will unravel that riddle for you,’ the man accused of theft told him. ‘Don’t think that I am slighting or insulting you. But if you continue asking questions of that kind, you will find yourself in a mental hospital or in a pit of everlasting darkness.’
‘A pit deeper than the one we are already in?’ the drunkard asked. Then he turned to Matigari. ‘From today you will be known as the seeker of truth and justice. Don’t take it too hard! The son of God was baptised by John the Baptist. That is why I have taken the liberty of baptising you.’
‘Truth seeking justice?’ the peasant mused on the drunkard’s words slowly. Justice seeking truth! The Seeker of Truth and Justice!’
‘Yes, true justice is mightier than the sword. Truth once convinced an archer to loosen the bow he had drawn against his enemy,’ the drunkard added.
‘But don’t you know that the government has a Ministry of Truth and Justice?’ the student reminded them.
‘The Minister for Truth and justice is actually coming to pay a visit to the factory tomorrow,’ the worker said.
‘So the Seeker of Truth and justice can ask the minister for the job of seeking truth and justice,’ the student said in jest. ‘This is the first commandment: You shall not mention the name of truth and justice in vain.’
‘Let me be prudent and keep my mouth shut!’ the ‘thief said. ‘Is this one here not a teacher? What has he just said? He was brought here for talking too much. And what of this student? The same. So I bid my lips be silent.’
‘Tell us why you are here,’ the student asked him.
‘Hunger, Hunger brought me here,’ the ‘thief answered. They all laughed. The man who had not yet spoken now cleared his throat. Addressing Matigari, he said, ‘May I ask you a question? You say that you returned from the forest this morning. Where are your weapons? Where did you leave them? Or did you have them on you when you were arrested?’
‘You may ask me as many questions as you like. I say questions are the gateway to wisdom and knowledge. Show me a person who does not ask questions, and I will show you an idiot. Well, I buried my weapons under the roots of a mugumo tree. I then girded myself with a belt of peace, saying: The flag now belongs to the blacks. So from now onwards, let justice and truth break all the bows drawn in war; let truth and justice settle all the disputes amongst us black people. Let truth and justice rule the world.’
‘But how do we know that you are really Matigari ma Njiruungi? How can we identify you? Where is the sign?’
‘The sign? . . . Oh, that the reign of justice may begin now , . . Let it be now, for if not . . .’ Matigari talked as if the man had asked him about the signs of the Second Coming. ‘Listen .. I don’t need anything to prove who I am. I don’t need signs or miracles. My actions will be my trumpet and they shall speak for me. For I will remove this belt of peace and I will wear another, decorated with bullets instead of beads. Yes, I will wear a gun around my waist and carry my AK47 over my shoulder; and I shall stand on top of the highest mountain and tell it to all the people: Open your eyes and see what I have seen . . . Open your ears and hear what I have heard . . .Let the will of the people be done! Our kingdom come as once decreed by the Iregi revolutionaries: The land belongs to the tiller and not to parasites and foreigners! Therefore the tiller must reap what he sows; the builder must have shelter; the tailor must have clothes to wear; the producer must have the power over his produce!’
‘What you have said is true,’ the peasant said. ‘Why shouldn’t we peasants eat properly? Why should the builder sleep outside? Why should the tailor walk about in rags?’ ‘What do you plan to do now?’ the other continued, questioning Matigari. ‘If Boy and Williams don’t give you back your house, what are you going to do?’
‘Listen to me,’ the ‘murderer’ told Matigari. ‘What were we told here just now? A prudent person keeps their mouth shut. I had better repeat it to you because a leader who does not accept advice is no leader. The forest in the heart is never cleared of all the wood. One carefully selects what to cut and what to leave. I do not know you, and you do not know me. There are a lot of police informers in the country. Wherever you find twelve people gathered, one of them will always be an informer, a traitor. I tell you this: If your name was mentioned at the workers’ meeting, then the authorities must be looking for you.'
‘They are looking for a giant of a man,’ the student said, laughter welling up in his throat. But it died as quickly as it rose.
The ‘murderer’ and the man who had been asking questions had jumped to their feet, and as quick as lightning each had taken out a switchblade.
‘Are you calling me a traitor?’ the man said to the ‘murderer’.
‘Do informers walk about with signs on their foreheads proclaiming: Look, I’m an informer?’ the ‘murderer’ replied. ‘Any one of us here could be a police informer,’
They made as if they were going to stab at each other, their knives shining in the candle-light.
‘Put your knives away!’ Matigari ordered them in a powerful voice. ‘How dare you draw your knives at each other? Aren’t you already in enough trouble?’
They put away their knives. Then the student said, ‘We’re only eleven here, so there can’t be an informer among us.’
Matigari continued with his answer as though nothing had taken place.
‘You want to know what I plan to do? I’ll tell you, for I have nothing to hide. I have come back to the people girded with a belt of peace. A farmer whose seeds have not germinated does not give up planting. A person who seeks justice never tires of the search until he finds it. Truth never dies, therefore, truth will reign in the end, even if it does not reign today. My house is my house. I am only after what I have built with my own hands. Tomorrow belongs to me. I invite you all to my house the day alter tomorrow. Come to a feast and celebrate our homecoming!’
‘Do you really think that you will be out of this place that soon?’ the ‘vagrant’ asked. ‘Getting into gaol is easy, but getting out is always a hard job. I’m sure that you will still be here tomorrow, and even the day after.’
‘If you had collided with anybody else but the master and his servant, it would have been much better,’ the worker said. ‘I should know. That inseparable pair have been oppressing us all this time. Every worker knows that Robert Williams and John Boy are like twins born out of the womb of the same ogre. And do you know something else? The whole police force is in the hands of these two. So are all the law courts. So I think that you will be very lucky to leave this prison soon. You should brace yourself for a long spell here, because, as the saying goes, gaols were built for men.’
‘And women too!’ another added.
‘And the children,’
‘Only Gabriel the angel of God can get you out of here. Amen,’ the drunkard said.
Hardly had he finished the sentence, before they heard footsteps and the sound of keys jingling in the dark. They quickly blew out the candles and remained dead silent, huddled together. The door creaked. Why should a policeman walk stealthily without switching on the lights? An eeriness crept over them. The creaking sounds drew nearer. They remained a little scared, prepared for the worst. Then they heard a faint voice.
‘Come out quietly. Don’t make any noise, and don’t look back! When you get to the road, you, Matigari, should wait by the clinic. The rest of you must continue walking without looking back!’
They crept out slowly, one after the other, groping along the prison walls. The doors were open. There was nobody at the
reception desk. This must be a dream!
Or perhaps a miracle. Being let out of prison by an invisible person? Yet even as they headed towards the main road, most of them were wondering; Who was Matigari ma Njiruungi, a person who could make prison walls open?
From that night, Matigari’s fame spread over all the country. He became a legend. He became a dream Still the question remained: Who was Matigari ma Njiruungi?
* * *
1 Matigari ma Njiruungi (Gikiiyu): Literally, ‘the patriots who survived the bullets’ - the patriots who survived the liberation war, and their political offspring.
2 lasso (Kiswahili): a wrapper.
3 Wewe mwenda wazimu: (Kiswahili): ‘you are crazy’.
4 Mzee (Kiswahili): ‘old man’.
Hakuna njia {Kiswahili): ‘no way’.
Italics here indicate that English, not Gikuyu, is being spoken.
5 The abbreviations here make words in the Gikuyu language: Aid: thieves; Ado: those; Biu: thorough; hence, ‘the real thieves’.
6 Wapi ule mwivi {Kiswahili): ‘where is that thief?’ 'Ni ule mzee (Kiswahili): ‘it’s that old man’.
7 Wewe punda milia (Kiswahili): ‘you zebra’.
PART TWO
Macaria ma na Kihooto
Seeker of Truth and Justice
1
When the children woke up the next day, they found Muriuki sleeping in his Mercedes-Benz. They woke him up and crowded around him.
‘When did you come back?’
‘At night.’
‘Tell us. Tell us about the man . . . Tell us about Matigari ma Njiruungi.’
The story of how Matigari had saved Guthera from the police dog had already reached them. They had heard how the police had shaken with fear in front of Matigari. The children felt guilty. It was the same police who for many years had harassed them. Why did we attack such a good man? they asked themselves. Where can we find Muriuki so that he can tell us about that man? That is why they were now pleased to see Muruiki.
Muriuki added salt to his story. Their thoughts grew wings: Is it true that he was arrested? Is it true that the prison doors opened mysteriously? Do you think they will announce it on the radio?
One of the boys ran to fetch the radio he had found in the garbage yard. The children had agreed that the radio would be communal property, so they could all listen to the news of the country and the world. They had paid compensation to the boy who had found it. They took the radio everywhere they went.
Now they gathered around to hear anything, any news, about Matigari ma Njiruungi.
This is the Voice of Truth . . . His Excellency Ole Excellence yesterday received a donation of fifty thousand shillings from business men (browns blacks and whites) who paid him a visit at his home. The donation is for the presidential fund for disabled children. The leader of the delegation congratulated His Excellency Ole Excellence for stamping out a mutiny which was intended to disrupt peace and stability in the country . . .
Two university lecturers appeared in court yesterday charged with possessing books on Karl Marx and V. Lenin published in China. All books about the liberation of peasants and workers, particularly those published in China, Have been banned since Independence . , ,'
Five university students were arrested yesterday for taking part in a demonstration outside the British and United States Embassies. The students were protesting against Western aid to the apartheid regime. All demonstrations were banned in the country by a presidential decree . . .
Reports from Johannesburg, South Africa, say that the ANC freedom fighters are responsible for the explosion of a time bomb in a hotel frequented by whiles. The whites are said to fear the unity of the SWAPO and ANC guerrillas . . .
The USA and the Soviet Union have made much progress in their preparations for voyages to Mars and other planets. Reports reaching us .. .
And now for the local news. Reports say that the police yesterday dispersed a workers’ meeting at the Anglo-American Leather and Plastic Works where effigies of the two directors, Robert Williams and John Boy, were burnt. The police used tear-gas. A number of workers were arrested. The Minister for Truth and Justice will be visiting the factory to settle the dispute in justice and truth.
This is the Voice of Truth. Police reports say that a policeman fainted when found out that some prisoners he had carefully locked in a cell had escaped. The most surprising thing was that the lock on the door of the cell was intact. The bars on the windows had not been tampered with whatsoever. The policeman still had the bunch of keys in his pocket. Police investigations are still being carried out.
Now the sports news. Horse-racing, motor rallying, golf and athletics . . .
‘Switch it off! It is unbelievable!’ the children exclaimed. ‘Muriuki, tell us! Who is Matigari ma Njiruungi?’
The children spread the news. They took it to the people, who were in any case thirsty for such a story, r ',
For people found here something dramatic, something, that livened up their otherwise drab lives. What amazing news! How could prison doors open "by themselves? Who was Matigari ma Njiruungi? The people of Trampville composed a song for Matigari ma Njiruungi:
Show me the way to a man
Whose name is Matigari ma Njiruungi,
Who stamps his feet to the rhythm of bells.
And the bullets jingle.
And the bullets jingle.
2
There was no sunshine. There was no rain. It was neither warm nor cold. A dull day.
3
He went to many market-places in search of truth and justice. People stood in groups talking about the strange events that had taken place in the country,
‘What events?’
‘Haven’t you heard?’
‘Heard what?’
‘This strange news?’
‘If I had heard it, would I be asking you to tell me about it?’ ‘Those who went have come back!’
‘Which ones?’
‘Must you really have everything spelt out? Can’t you guess who Matigari ma Njiruungi are?’
‘But those arc fairy-tales surely? Are they still living?’ ‘Rumour has it that they have come back with flaming swords in their hands!’
‘Flaming swords?’
‘Yes! To claim the products of our labour.’
‘Just a minute! Say that again.’
‘The country has its patriots.’
‘Have you actually seen him, or are these rumours?’ Everyone anxiously waited for an answer. Who was Matigari? What did he look like.
At that moment, Matigari appeared before them. He stood about two paces away from them and greeted them.
They all turned towards him.
‘My friends! Can you tell me where a person could find truth and justice in this country?’
They looked at him disapprovingly. Some made wordless noises of disapproval. They turned their eyes away from him.
‘What is this man asking? Let’s first hear stories about Matigari ma Njiruungi! Have you set eyes upon him? What does he look like? How big is he?’
4
He went to shopping centres. Everywhere, shopkeepers and their customers crowded the counters and the entrances . . . ‘The children were the first to see him.’ ‘The children? Did he reveal himself to them? A child and a king are one and the same thing. But children will always be children!’
‘Why? What did they do?’
‘They threw stones at him,’
‘Stones? Didn’t they know who he was?’
‘No.’
‘These modern children. They ought to be ashamed of themselves, throwing stones at an elderly man. Suppose they hit him in the eyes?’
‘That is the amazing thing. Not even one stone touched him.’
‘What?’
When the stones reached him, they changed into doves.’) ‘Doves?’
‘Yes! You think that this is a small matter, don’t you?’
‘The children were scared. Then
some other people came by and they asked the children: Why are you stoning the old man? But he said: Let the children come to me. Yet the children were afraid, and they began to run away. Only one boy went to him.’ ‘Let me say a word. It is not good to look down upon a person on account of how he dresses or how he looks. A hero cannot be judged by his size. I’d be happy if I could see him with my own eyes, this very minute, so that I can shake his hand . . .’ Matigari came up to them and stood on the veranda. ‘Kindly tell me this, my friends. Where can one find truth and justice in this society?’
They fell silent and just stared at the stranger as if he had struct the wrong chord of a popular melody. Then they started talking to one another and complaining about the man who had spoilt their" song.
‘What on earth is he talking about?’
‘Yes, how can he cut us short in the middle of such an interesting story to ask such nonsensical questions?’
‘Why can’t he go to the Voice of Truth?’-
‘Or to the Ministry of Truth and Justice?’
‘Leave him alone. He’s probably a drunkard.’
‘Yes, tell us more about Matigari ma Njiruungi. Where did he go when he left the children? Where did he go with the boy?’
5
He visited many eating places. People were so absorbed in the extraordinary talcs of Matigari that they often forgot to drink their tea or cat their food. They just sat and listened.
‘It was Ngaruro wa Kiriro who first discovered who he was.’ ‘Ngaruro wa Kiriro? I’ve always said that Ngaruro has a way of seeing into things.’
Matigari Page 7