Furniver stirred, and mumbled something about Tuskers and mango juice and chicken necks and Charity.
The boy tried to rouse Furniver.
“Come on, mzee, get up, get up, old man.”
He spoke directly into Furniver’s ear.
“Tuskers . . . and bitings . . . chicken necks.”
Furniver rose unsteadily to his feet, one hand on the thin bony shoulders of Ntoto, the other gripping the top of his chair.
“Come on, Mr Edward . . . Mrs Charity sent me to find you.”
Charity had told him to say two things to Furniver, one of which the boy had no difficulty remembering. Indeed, if he needed a reminder, he had only to lick his lips.
“Mrs Charity says she has cooked your favourite dish. There are chicken necks on the menu tonight.”
A slight tremor went through Furniver’s frame. His eyes, which until then had the soft vague look of a baby benevolently looking out at the world from its pram, narrowed and began to focus.
There was something else Charity had asked him to say. Ntoto was having difficulty remembering it, no doubt because he did not entirely understand the message. He was, after all, preoccupied by chicken necks and dough balls, food that never could be taken for granted, even with the money from the tape recorder. He searched his memory.
It was important, Charity had said to him, very important that he got the words right. He felt an unexpected burden of responsibility. Instinctively he knew that the outcome of his excursion would shape the future of the only two people who cared for him. He was determined to be word perfect. For a few ghastly seconds his head seemed empty, and dominated by a single image of roasted chicken necks on a white plate, piled high with maize meal, swimming in peanut relish, and topped by a dough ball.
Then, to his huge relief, he suddenly remembered the final and most important part of the message. He rattled it off so fast that Furniver had to ask him to repeat it. Drawing himself up, Ntoto spoke slowly and loudly, as if Furniver was deaf or stupid.
“Mrs Charity Mupanga, she also says: ‘Come home, mzungu (white man), it is time to come home.’”
EPILOGUE
“When the Great She-Elephant breaks wind, even the mighty baobab tree bends”
“No bloody good at all.”
The rebuke broke into the baffling words that Pearson was listening to on the cassette player he had bought at the airport’s duty free shop. It certainly was not the voice of the president:
‘My government has watched with growing concern the increase in cat-chasing incidents at post boxes. The cats of Britain are safe in this government’s hands.’
Surely it was Furniver . . . yes, it was Furniver, dictating his children’s story . . . how on earth?
A hand gripped his shoulder.
“No damn good at all.”
He sat up with a start. The security officer, accompanied by the cabin steward who a few minutes earlier had served him the glass of fresh orange juice, looked down.
“You haven’t filled out your departure card correctly,” said the officer, smiling broadly. Pearson’s guts churned as he realised that it was the same man who had been checking his holdall and mocking his novel.
“Call yourself a journalist?” he asked jovially.
He was still smiling.
“No damn good, no good at all, suh.”
The cabin steward sized things up, and decided that it was no more than a slight hitch. It could be resolved before their departure. He joined in.
“We’re told that it will just take a few minutes,” he said reassuringly. “It’s just a formality, Mr Pearson, but it has got to be done. You have to return to the departure lounge. Need to check you off on their computer.”
He went off to guide another passenger to his seat. For a split second Pearson saw his reflection in the security man’s dark glasses. He looked as he felt: like the fabled bemused rabbit, frozen in the middle of the highway, dazzled by the lights of the oncoming car. His head had started to throb again. He slowly stood up, and looked for his holdall. The officer had got there before him, and had already removed it from the overhead locker.
The man had also taken the tape player from Pearson’s limp grip, and with a hand on the journalist’s shoulder that seemed avuncular rather than custodial, he guided him through the cabin door, back onto the soil of Kuwisha.
As they crossed the threshold of the plane’s exit, the man’s grip tightened. His hand shifted from Pearson’s shoulder to the back of his neck. With forefinger and thumb, he gripped it tightly, the pressure increasing as they left the plane. And, his voice lowered to a level of sibilant menace that only Pearson could hear, and which made his gorge rise in sheer terror, the officer hissed:
“No bloody good, Mr Pearson, no bloody good at all . . .”
The End
APPENDIX:
THE PROVERBS OF KUWISHA
The proverbs were gathered by the author during years of travelling around Kuwisha, and further afield. Wisdom is no respecter of boundaries, and most of the proverbs are, with minor variations, found across the East African countries and beyond. Although rooted in the past, many are now used in a contemporary context, such as describing the impact of economic structural adjustment programmes advocated by the International Monetary Fund and World Bank. Some are more readily understandable when accompanied by appropriate gestures or movements.
Of the many works consulted by the author, one seminal study stands out: The Wise One Never Needs the Umfazi: The Ancient Wisdom of Kuwisha, originally published by the Nordic Foundation for African Studies, Oslo in 1973. It was not long after publication that the Institute became a victim of spending cuts by the Norwegian government. I am indebted to the Nigerian Institute for the Study of Democracy, which now holds the copyright, for permission to draw on many of the paper’s insights, and to the Institute’s acting director, Dr Ekim Namloh, for the generous allocation of his time.
“The long grass is safe only for short men”
Don’t get out of your depth.
“He who follows the warthog’s trail risks meeting the lion”
Do not be distracted from your main purpose.
“Beware the leopard that limps when the lion roars”
Appearances can be deceptive.
“Rotten bananas make the strongest beer”
Kuwisha equivalent of “It’s an ill wind . . .”
“The baringa nuts are always green when hunger strikes”
Self-explanatory. “It’s sod’s law.”
“When the buffalo move south, wise men check their trouser buttons”
Origin disputed, meaning obscure. Contributed by Mr M. “Flogger” Morland, former district commissioner, Nyali province.
“Beware the wildebeest that sleeps with the hare”
Judge people by the company they keep.
“If you eat the ugali (maize meal) you must stoke the fire”
If you sleep with the girl, you have to marry her. Commonly used in discussions about the wisdom of accepting foreign loans.
“Marula fruit always taste sweet to the elephant”
If you have an insatiable appetite, you are not likely to be discriminating in your choice of food. Elephants will search far and wide for the berry, travelling as much as 15 miles to reach a single tree.
“If the snake hisses, the elephant coughs”
Obsolete, meaning disputed. Nevertheless, the proverb is enjoying a revival in western Kuwisha, where the introduction of schools fees, supposedly at the insistence of the World Bank, had created much resentment. Thus a common rejoinder from parents to primary school headmasters when the latter threaten to expel students for non-payment of fees: “If the snake hisses, the elephant coughs,” usually accompanied by a defiant shrug of the shoulders.
“Fortunate is the bird that nests while it sings”
Most often used by the pastoralists of central Tanzania, and not in common use in Kuwisha, presumably spread by the lorry drivers who
work the main route between the two countries. Ironic: you cannot have your cake and eat it.
“When the elephant spits out its phlegm, don’t measure its tusks”
Incomprehensible. Efforts by the author to find a meaning have been unsuccessful. One theory is that the obscurity is deliberate, and the proverb is used as a polite way of bringing a conversation to an end, or signalling a change of topic. Slow, thoughtful nods on the part of the listener indicates consent.
“Only dogs can tell the difference between hyenas and jackals”
Obscure since the source is Shadrack Gachara – Pearson’s steward – its authenticity is debatable.
“Foolish is the mujiba (herdboy) who eats the marula berries”
Don’t get ambitions above your station – elephants are especially fond of the berry (see above) and protect the trees in which it grows. Only warangu – warriors – dare challenge them for the fruit.
“He who hears the hyena bark will be attacked by the leopard”
Get your priorities right: don’t be distracted by the inconsequential.
“Only the faithless wife hears the hippo’s cough”
Hippos are at their most active, and at their noisiest, in the hours before dawn – when a loyal wife should be sharing her husband’s bed.
“Only the lion may piss in the watering hole”
Obey the pecking order; abide by the conventions of the community. Dr Phimister (see above), has produced cogent arguments in support of his view that the proverb is of comparatively recent origin, and refers to the failure of the European Union to tackle agricultural subsidies. Readers should be aware that most if not all of Dr Phimister’s conclusions involve his work on the adverse impact of EU subsidies on African producers. See for example: Breaking the Mould: Subsidies and the Wankie Strike of 1923.
“When the maidens dance hide the corn cobs”
There are several interpretations of this popular proverb, most of which are self-evident. The most common use is in the course of criticism of exchange rate policy. Unique to the Bulonga people. Usually accompanied by graphic gestures performed by recently circumcised adolescents. The use of hand gestures to accompany this proverb gives it a very different interpretation. Professor Ian Phimister, head of economic history at the University of Kuwisha, argues that it is of much older origin than generally recognised (he puts it circa 1920, the time of the strike at the Wankie coal mine). He suggests that the current use is an example of indigenous opposition to the World Bank’s decision to lift fertiliser subsidies.
“When the young men dance, hide the cooking pots”
A bowdlerised version of the common proverb: an obscene reference to maidens has been replaced by cooking pots.
“Only brave men eat the flesh of the old goat”
Originally meaning: you have to be very hungry to eat tough meat. Now commonly used to refer to renegotiated IMF programmes.
“Beware the tick bird that seeks to clean the crocodile’s teeth”
The Kuwisha equivalent of watch out for a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Tickbirds live on the backs of cattle.
“Never boil the batongo beans before the pots are ready”
Batongo beans have a high sugar content, and the liquid that is produced after several hours of boiling is left in clay pots overnight, when it sets as sweet jelly, much enjoyed by the Kuwisha. The clay pots, however, need to be specially prepared; for Kuwisha with a sweet tooth, there is always the temptation to short cut the process and use plastic bowls. The proverb carries much the same message as the old Nagombo saying: “The wise hunter avoids the elephant’s phlegm,” the meaning of which is obvious.
“The baboon never barks at the rhino’s horn”
Interpretation is disputed, but usually understood to mean one should treat people with respect and courtesy.
“When you hear the ghloghla drums guard the maize harvest”
Ghloghla drums (once common in northern Kuwisha) were beaten at times of war: when peril approaches, lock up your valuables.
“The bird that picks the meat from the crocodile’s teeth leaves no droppings”
Do not foul one’s own nest.
“Women who pick the ripe dongo berries when they are ripe make lazy wives”
Green dongo berries make the best traditional beer, but peeling them and then soaking the berries for several hours make for a time consuming and demanding process; although ripe berries are easier to peel and do not need to be soaked. Aficionados of the beer insist that the green berries produce the better brew. The closest English equivalent is probably “The devil finds work for idle hands.”
“If the goat roars and the lion bleats, bring out your spears”
When someone behaves out of character, be prepared for trouble.
“The words of a fool sound loud when spoken through a trumpet”
A dismissive reference to journalists and their newspapers, particularly newspaper editorials.
“When the Great She-Elephant breaks wind, even the baobab bends”
Bow to the inevitable.
ALSO AVAILABLE FROM POLYGON BY MICHAEL HOLMAN
FATBOY AND THE DANCING LADIES
Ferdinand Mlambo, the youngest boy ever to become senior kitchen toto at State House, is in deep trouble. Disloyalty to Kuwisha’s Life President Ngwazi Nduka has not only cost him his prestigious job: the sinister chief steward to the president, Lovemore Mboga, has humiliated Mlambo by stripping him of his name. Word goes out: henceforth, he will be known as Fatboy. But with the help of Titus Ntoto, leader of the notorious Mboya Boys gang of teenage street children, Mlambo recovers his name and his dignity. In this sequel to his widely praised debut, “Last Orders at Harrods”, Michael Holman again combines the insights of someone brought up in Africa with the experience of nearly 20 years as the “London Financial Times’” Africa editor. With a sharp observant pen, he describes a world of abandoned street children, corrupt politicians, disillusioned journalists, well meaning aid workers, celebrity outsiders, self-deceiving donors, and resilient residents of Kireba, Kuwisha’s worst slum - where the tough but maternal Mrs Charity Tangwenya Mupanga, presides over the popular rendezvous, Harrods International Bar (and Nightspot).
LAST ORDERS AT HARRODS
Charity Mupanga is the widowed owner of Harrods International Bar (and Nightspot) - a favourite meeting place for the movers and shakers of Kibera. While she can handle most challenges, from an erratic supply of Worcestershire sauce, the secret ingredient in her cooking, to the political tensions in East Africa’s most notorious slum and a cholera outbreak that follows the freak floods in the state of Ubuntu, some threatening letters from London lawyers are beginning to overwhelm her. How dare a London store, no matter how big and famous, claim exclusive use of the first name of her late father, Harrods Tangwenya, gardener to successive British high commissioners for nearly twenty years? Well-meant but inept efforts to foil the lawyers by Edward Furniver, a former fund manager who runs Kibera’s co-operative bank and who seeks Charity’s hand in marriage, bring Harrods International Bar to the brink of disaster, and Charity close to despair. In the nick of time an accidental riot, triggered by the visit to the slum of World Bank President Hardwick Hardwicke, coupled with some quick thinking by Titus Ntoto, the 14-year-old leader of Kibera’s toughest gang, the Mboya Boys United Football Club, help Charity - and Harrods - to triumph in the end.
DIZZY WORMS
Mupanga, the resilient and maternal proprietor of Harrods International Bar (and Nightspot) faces her toughest challenge in “Dizzy Worms”, the final novel in Michael Holman’s acclaimed trilogy set in the African slum of Kireba. Faced with a Health and Safety closure, Charity has a week to appeal and the chances of success seem negligible: elections are imminent, and Kireba is due to become a showcase of President Josiah Nduka’s ‘slum rehabilitation program’, backed by gullible foreign donors. But before taking on Nduka and the council, she has a promise to keep - to provide a supply of her famous sweet doughba
lls to a small army of street children, as voracious as they are malodorous...Michael Holman uses his witty satirical pen to brilliant effect in this affectionate portrait of a troubled region, targeting local politicians, western diplomats, foreign donors and journalists, puncturing pretensions and questioning the philosophy of aid.
Last Orders at Harrods Page 28
