‘ I shall read a passage from the gospel according to the Book of Matthew, chapter 24, verse 23: Then if any man shall say unto you, Lo, here is Christ, or there, believe it not. For there skill arise false Christs, and false prophets, and shall show great signs and wonders insomuch that if it were possible, they shall deceive the very elect. Behold, I have told you before.’ The priest sat down. The minister continued:
‘You have now heard the word of God for yourselves! That you should ignore false prophets, false angels and false Christs.
‘Iet me come to another point. The uvumi we have been warned against by the priest was started last night by a group of thieves and murderers — a group of criminals, in other words — who escaped from prison yesterday. They are the ones who started and spread the rumour that it was Gabriel the Angel of God who had opened the prison doors. I shall tell you the truth.
The ears of the government, and the eyes of the government are everywhere: in police and prison cells, in shopping centres, in workplaces, in schools, in churches, in market-places and even in the walls and the very foundations of your houses. Our hands are longer than the longest road, and they travel faster than the speed of lightning. All those who escaped are in the hands of the government.’
When he got to the end of the sentence, two policemen ushered the peasant, the ‘thief, the ‘murderer’, the ‘vagrant’, die student, the ‘pickpocket’, the worker, the teacher and the drunkard into the hall. The only two people missing from the group were Giceru and Matigari.
‘You have now seen them for yourselves, haven’t you?’ the minister said pointing at the prisoners. ‘Yes, these are the people who last night escaped from prison and started spreading rumours that it was the Angel Gabriel who had let them out. They did not realise that one of the government’s own eyes was among them. They did not realise that with them was the government’s ear. The government knows exactly who those Gabriels are: the teacher and the student. Imagine, these two were teaching Marxism even in prison. This Karl Marx has made these students and teachers crazy. But they are cowards. These two had locked themselves in, reading Karl Marx. Take them all away! Their cases will be heard and settled just now . . . The Permanent Professor of the History of Parrotology, the Ph.D. in Parrotology and the Editor of the Daily Parrotry will give evidence to show that, historically, philosophically and journalistically speaking, it is those who teach Marxism - in other words, communism - who spoil our students and our workers. That is why they should be detained without trial. Isn’t that so, Professor?’
The permanent professor, the Ph.D. holder and the newspaper editor stood up and sang three verses from Songs of a Parrot. After they had finished they sat down, still holding the song-book very tightly.
The minister then said to the police:
‘Do your work.’
The policeman pushed the prisoners into a room at the back of the hall.
‘The only person we haven’t caught up with is the one calling himself Matigari ma Njiruungi, But he too should be warned. The hand of the law is longer than any road he may decide to walk on. Let me now put a stop to all this uvumi in the country, especially in the villages around here. There are no freedom fighters in the forests. They all came out of the forest at independence when the flag was hoisted. All those who refused to come out were shot down. Full stop. Let him who has ears Iisten. And he who has not got any should borrow his mother’s.
let me now come to the purpose of my visit here: the dispute between the workers and the owners of the leather and plastic factory. But before I go any further, I am told that there is to be a small ceremony . . .’
Robert Williams and John Boy junior stood up immediately. Robert Williams handed a cheque and certificates to John Boy. ]OHN Boy in his turn handed them over to the minister. They both sat down.
The minister looked at the cheque and the certificates, smiled, held them in one hand and then continued with his speech, obviously invigorated by what he had received from Boy and Williams.
' let me first thank the directors of this company for the work that they have done. Do you see this cheque? Look at it carefully. We like doing things in the open. Christian democracy. Honesty. This is a cheque for 50,000 shillings towards the special presidential fund for handicapped children. This company is truly one with a human heart and a human face! Thank you. Aren’t you going to clap? Give warm applause! Again! That’s it! Do you see these certificates? These are for personal shares. They are for His Excellency Ole Excellence. The other one here is for me, again personal shares. Just stop whistling for a while. You will be able to do that much better after you’ve heard everything. Donating personal shares is nothing really special. A lot of companies have already done that. But the must impressive thing this company has done, a real revolutionary step, is that they have given the ruling party a few shares. Do you know the significance of that?
'The ruling party is our party. It is your party. It is the national party. Therefore this company has given shares to the country, the whole nation. From now onwards, all of you here and even those who are not here have a stake in the company. Nowthis company is yours. It is ours. It is a national company. This is capitalism with a socialist face - or socialism with a capitalist heart. That is to say true African socialism. Not like that of Karl Marx and Lenin that the students and teachers are always talking about. Lakini watona cha mtema kunil2
‘They will have to take those revolutions of theirs back to the Soviet Union, China, North Korea, Cuba or Albania. Why can’t they learn and teach the kind of socialism we have been shown by the leather and plastics factory? Why are you not applauding? Why aren’t you women ululating over what the company has done? Well, it takes a bit of time for the real significance of certain things to sink in, I know it will in due course; so it does not matter!’
The permanent professor, the Ph.D. and the newspaper editor made as if they were about to stand and sing a few more stanzas from Songs of a Parrot. But the minister, embarrassed by their readiness to sing, asked them to wait for a little while.
‘Now, even if you were the one arbitrating between the company and the factory workers, you would see that the dispute has now been resolved more or less. From now onwards, anyone who goes on strike against this company will actually be striking against the government. Provoking this company will be exactly the same as sticking a finger in the nose of the ruling party. Hurling abuse at this company is the same as hurling insults at the nation.
‘I shall now give the verdict on the dispute between the employers and the workers. Firstly, I want all the workers to go back to work now and end the strike immediately. Is that clear? From this minute on, the strike is over. And I order the company to take back all the workers, with the exception of the ring leaders. Why do I order the company to do so? Because the company has already decided to sack all those who went on strike and employ those who spend their time queuing for work instead. I think that such a solution to the dispute is a good and past one. Who is that booing?
'Before I finish, I would like to remind the masses wherever they are that strikes are banned by a presidential decree, Before, in colonial times, we used to go on strike demanding our independence. But what other independence are we striking for 'This is your government! This is a workers’ government!
Furthermore, His Excellency Ole Excellence is a worker, a first class worker. Number one. So this government is led by a worker. What more do you want? Are there any questions?’
Ngaruro wa Kiriro stood up:
'Speaking on behalf of the workers, I would like to say that a dispute or disagreement is always between two parties. Our dispute is between the company owners and the workers. Ours is a dispute between labour and capital. But the owners of capital should always remember that even the capital in question comes from the labour of our hands. Your verdict only shows that you — the government and the ruling party — are on the side of capital, on the side of those who own companies and large farms. I have onl
y one question: Where is our government, we workers? We are not asking for other people’s property. We are only asking for adequate remuneration for our labour. The labour of our hands is all we own. It is our only property. We sell this labour in the labour market. Tell me, you who go to the market-places: If the buyer refuses to pay the price being asked for by the seller, has the latter not got the right to refuse to part with the wares until he gets a suitable price for them? Or one agreed upon between the buyer and the seller? Our strike action is just such a refusal. We are withdrawing our labour from the market until the buyer agrees to meet our price. We cannot go back to work unless our demands are met. All we are asking for are wage increases to meet the ever-spiralling prices of goods. We are also asking that the wages be increased in proportion to the rate of inflation. We also ask for Saturdays off, or to be paid overtime for working on Saturdays. We also demand that John Boy Junior and Robert Williams be removed from the board of directors, and to have new directors appointed in their place. The two are worse than those who were there during the colonial days.’
Ngaruro wa Kiriro sat down. The workers applauded, with the women ululating.
The minister waited for the applause to die down. Then he said, ‘You have heard the insolence for yourselves, haven’t you? That man has just broken the law three times over. Firstly, he has defied my order; and secondly, he has defied two presidential decrees. He has defied the order which I announced here a few minutes ago, in everyone’s hearing. I just announced the end of the strike, didn’t I? It ended the moment I finished speaking. Therefore this man is actually asking people to go on strike again. In doing so, he is urging people to defy the special decree by the President. Do you know which law he is breaking by asking people to disobey His Excellency? The law of sedition and treason. And now it is my turn to ask a question: How can industries run if the workers are the ones who are to decide who is to be employed and what wages are to be paid? And how can the industries run if it is the workers who decide when they want to work and when they want to rest? If they feel so strongly about these things, why don’t they employ themselves, instead of going to seek employment in other people’s firms? The man who has just spoken has refused to work. Everyone here is a witness to that. It is his right to opt out of work, but he should not incite others to follow his example. How can such a person who clearly chooses not to work be helped? Police! Do your duty! Maybe he is one of those who are preaching the teachings of Karl Marx in the country.5
Two policemen grabbed Ngaruro wa Kiriro, and they threw him into the room where the other prisoners were. People started shouting and arguing. The police commissioner blew the whistle. The riot police stood in the doorway and at the windows, A hush fell over the room. The people were trapped inside the room.
'Are there any more questions?’
His VOICE was greeted by a deep silence. He continued speaking as though nothing much had happened.
'Are there any other questions?’
This too met a deep silence. The Minister for Truth and justice continued, ‘Why don’t you want to ask questions? You do realise that we have some guests from Western countries here USA, Britain, West Germany, France — and they are running a course on behalf of the ruling party on Party
Organisation and Responsible Trade Unionism, here in this country, I want them to see African socialism at work. Here, in this country, we are guided by democracy and the rule of law. Die only thing we never condone is the breaking of the law. So the government has the democratic right to remove such a person from amidst the people. No government can allow 0.001 per cent of the people to disrupt the rights of the other 99.9999 per cent. How can one rotten grain of corn be allowed to make a whole sack go to waste? Even the majority have human rights too!
'is there another question?’
'Yes!' a voice said.
Everyone turned their eyes to the door. A tall, well-built, elderly man stood in the doorway. On his head was a wide- trimmed hat, strapped under his chin. Around it was a strap decorated with beads, and an ostrich feather. He wore a knee- length coat, made of leopard skin. He wore corduroy trousers. His hands were inside his coat pockets, as though he were holding something.
Guthera and Muriuki exchanged glances.
Everyone stood in silent anticipation. They could not believe that anybody could be so brave as to ask a question after what had happened to Ngaruro wa Kiriro, and now that they were all trapped inside the hall by armed police and soldiers.
Matigari and the Minister for Truth and Justice stood facing each other.
Two policemen made as if to arrest Matigari. Keeping his eyes fixed on the minister, Matigari spoke in such a way that everyone in the room could hear his words clearly. With a firm voice he warned the two policemen, ‘Don’t you dare touch me! I am as old as this country.’ There was not the slightest trace of fear in his voice. The courage and the strength in his voice made the policemen start. John Boy Junior and Robert Williams whispered something to each other, but they kept their eyes on Matigari all the time. The police chief went and murmured to the minister, while keeping his eyes fixed on Matigari’s hands, which were still inside the coat, ‘He might have a gun. Make him keep on talking until we find a way of shooting him.’
The minister found his tongue. ‘Leave him alone,’ he said, in a voice that was louder than necessary. ‘I said that whoever wished to ask a question may do so. This is a free country, not like Russia or China.’
Matigari moved into the middle of the crowd. As he began to speak, still holding his hands in his pockets, none dared to cough or make the slightest noise.
‘You have asked why nobody wants to ask questions. I will answer you. Taking precaution does not mean that one is a coward. Leopard once asked hare: My friend, why don’t you ever pay me a visit? Hare answered: I have seen a lot of people enter your house, but I have never seen even one of them leaving. All the people you see here are like hare. They have eyes and ears to see and hear whatever is happening around them. But still, I will tell them this: Too much fear breeds misery in the land. So knowing full well what hare told leopard, I will put a question to the Minister for Truth and Justice. For I have spent the whole day roving around the whole country, looking for somebody who could give me an answer to my question. Yes, I have walked and have travelled by malatus and by all sorts of vehicles, I have spoken to medicine men, students, teachers and the wise men of modern stars. One wise man, reader of God’s words, told me: Go to the Minister for truth and Justice. I obeyed the priest.
This is my question:
The builder builds a house.
The one who watched while it was being built moves into it.
The builder sleeps in the open air,
No roof over his head.
The tailor makes clothes.
The one who does not even know how to thread a needle wears the clothes.
The tailor walks in rags.
The tiller tends crops in the fields.
The one who reaps-where-he-never-sowed yawns for having eaten too much.
The tiller yawns for not having eaten at all.
The worker produces goods.
Foreigners and parasites dispose of them.
The worker is left empty handed.
Where are truth and justice on this earth?’
The Minister for Truth and Justice paused for a while and struck a contemplative mood before answering.
‘Stop speaking in parables. If you want to ask a question, then do so in plain language. You have nothing to fear. So now, poor out all your problems and you will soon see. The preacher did the right thing to send you to me. Yes, he did the right thing,’
‘Mine is not a long story,’ Matigari said, ‘but it is not a short one either. It is the story you now see in this very room. My story is made up of you and me. I built a house. I cultivated the land. I worked the industry. But Settler Williams, aided by his servant, John Boy, ended up with all the wealth. I said to myself: The differences be
tween the robber and the robbed can only be settled in struggle. So out in the fields we went, Williams and his servant Boy on one side, and I on the other. For many seasons we hunted one another. We went over many mountains, through many years. We hunted each other, trying to see who would be the first to bring down the other. I first tried to bring down Boy. The settler was nothing without the support of his servant. Settler Williams could never rock the foundations of my home without a collaborator, I finally managed to bring both of them down. Boy fell first; then Settler Williams. Yesterday I returned home. My heart was full of joy, and my whole being was ringing with victory. But who do I find standing at the gate of my house? Boy’s son, together with Settler William’s son. They asked me: Where is the title-deed to this house? I in turn asked them: What title-deed other than my sweat, my blood? They refused to return the keys to my house, but instead they called the police. I was thrown into gaol. Over there are Boy’s son, the settler’s son and the police commissioner. Ask them if what I am saying is not true. All I demand in this land of democracy is truth and justice.’
Robert Williams and John Boy were still whispering to each other. Boy scribbled a note, which he handed to the police chief.
‘Who are you?’ the minister asked.
‘Matigari ma Njiruungi,’ he answered.
The minster started. He took out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his face. The police chief whispered to the minister again. They all still thought that Matigari had a gun in his pocket. Why else did he keep his hands in his pockets? And indeed, how come he was so daring? But there was no way they could have shot Matigari without endangering the other people, and particularly the very important guests, who were seated on the platform. Matigari stood in the midst of the people. And the people stood silently in total admiration. What a long time it had been since they had last seen such courage! So it was true that the patriots of long ago were still alive! So the patriots of the land had finally returned to help them claim their own! The police chief watched Matigari carefully. His eyes remained fixed on Matigari’s hands. Slowly, ever so slowly, he lowered his own to his hip. He surreptitiously began to unfasten the holster.
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