Wizard of the Crow

by Ngũgĩ Wa Thiong

  “I don’t like what you are insinuating. I am a loyalist. To be very frank, I was taken to the shrine of the diviner without my knowledge. I was that ill. And I missed work not just one day but several days, more than a week. Why should I risk my life’s work and property for the sake of starting a queue of riffraff and job seekers? A job-seeking queue is not exactly a beauty pageant.”

  “You claim that you were away from your workplace for days, even weeks. Did you close the office?”

  “No.”

  “Who ran the office in your absence?”

  “The secretary. I mean, she was the only one there who…”

  “By the secretary you still mean Nyawlra?”

  “Yes… but my wife, Vinjinia, later went there and was in charge. Completely in charge. What did I tell you? She is not a village woman. She is highly educated. She has…”

  “So Nyawlra and Vinjinia were the ones present when the queuing mania started? Is that what you are saying?”

  “Yes!”

  “So only those two can give eyewitness testimony as to what occurred?”

  “You have spoken.”

  “What?”

  “Only those two can give a proper account because they were there. All I know is hearsay.”

  “When did you go back to work?”

  “After the convocation at the site for Marching to Heaven.”

  “The one held at Eldares Park?”

  “You have spoken.”

  “Spare me the Jesus speak. What are you implying, Mr. Tajirika? That I’m Pontius Pilate to your Jesus Christ?”

  “No, no, no. There is no way I would even dream of such a thing. I am human. I am a sinner.”

  “Then confess your sins!”

  “What do you want me to confess?”

  “I was not there when you sinned.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Answer my questions fully and simply. The day you say you resumed work, was that the same day you got cured?”

  “By that time I was already cured. A couple of weeks before, in fact. I had been resting at home, not doing much of anything.”

  “Mr. Tajirika, you confuse me even more. Please clear this up for me. Are you telling me that between the day you learned that you had been appointed chairman of Marching to Heaven and the day of the dedication of the site, you never once went back to your office to see for yourself how things were?”

  “I did go there once, on the morning that I left the doctor’s…”

  “You mean the witch doctor’s shrine?”

  “Yes, the diviner’s haven. To be very frank, that was also when I beheld the queues for the first time and, believe me, Officer, it was an overwhelming sight. A frightening sight. The queues were all over Santamaria. My own offices were almost under siege. I slipped in through the back door, a special entrance.”

  “Let me see if I am getting this right. On that day, you were not ill?”

  “I have told you that I had just then come from the doctor.”

  “The witch doctor?”

  “The diviner.”

  “Let’s not quibble over a word. What I want to know is this. You were then completely free of your illness?”

  “I assure you that I was completely cured. I never felt better in my life.”

  “So now, Mr. Tajirika, why did you then stop going to the office even after you were cured? Or did your heart troubles start up again at the sight of all those queues?”

  “You said I should speak the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me God.”

  “And the truth shall make you free. Is that not what the Bible says?”

  “But you said that I was not in custody.”

  “It is just a way of talking. Tell the truth and shame the Devil.”

  “You see, after I had managed to sneak into my office, I telephoned Machokali.”

  “The minister?”

  “There is only one Machokali in the country, and he is my friend.”

  “I just want to make sure. We policemen are like doctors. Modern doctors, not your witch doctors or diviners as you call them. A good modern doctor makes sure that he knows all the facts about a malady. For only then can he prescribe the correct drug. We police detectives are truth diggers, and we like to base our case on facts. So do I take it that when you mention Machokali, you are talking about Machokali, the one and only Minister for Foreign Affairs in the government of the Buler of Aburlria?”

  “That’s right. I was calling him to ask him whether he could arrange for armed forces to come and disperse the crowd.”

  “That’s strange. Had the minister ever told you that he had powers to call on the army to do this or that?”

  “I thought that as a minister he would know whom to contact.”

  “Tell me, Mr. Tajirika, had the minister ever told you that he knew of any person or groups of persons other than the Buler who thought that they had the power to authorize actions by the army?”

  “Oh, no, no, no. Nothing of the sort. But what he told me made me look at the queues in a very different light.”

  “What did he tell you?”

  “He told me that those queues were very important.”

  “Important?”

  “Yes, because the queues served to show that the people fully supported the Marching to Heaven project. The queues were demonstrations of support.”

  “Go on. What else?”

  “As a matter of fact, it was the minister who advised me not to go back to work, that I should stay at home as if I were still ill…”

  “Pretend that you were ill? But why?”

  “So that the queuers would not disperse after their job-hunting needs were settled one way or another. As long as they waited for me, they had some hope and hope would keep the queues alive.”

  “So what he told you is that you should lie and say that you were still ill even though you had never felt better in your life?”

  “No, not the way you are putting it. He just wanted the queues to remain in place for as long as the Global Bank mission was in the country and not disperse before the dedication of the site for Marching to Heaven.”

  “Okay Let’s see. You are in this grip of a false illness. You have agreed to stay home to recover. Who was looking after your business?”

  “Vinjinia, my wife, became the acting manager, with the… the… you know… the secretary as her assistant. A helper.”

  “You mean Nyawlra?”

  “The same.”

  “And because Vinjinia was not very experienced, it was really Nyawlra who was entrusted with managing your affairs, is that not so?”

  “Yes, Nyawlra had more experience, but she was definitely not in charge. She was a minion.”

  “Demoted? You know how women are: they are jealous of one another. Some women are not satisfied unless they are the only woman in a male domain. The One Woman syndrome.”

  “No, she was not demoted and there was no jealousy. To make her happy and ensure continued loyal service in my absence, I had given her the quite meaningless title of assistant to the acting manager. But she was nothing but a glorified receptionist.”

  “Machokali… were he and Nyawlra acquainted?”

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  “But Machokali used to call you at your office?”

  “Yes.”

  “And all his calls went through the receptionist.”

  “Sometimes. But he also called me direct. I would say most times.”

  “Did Machokali ever visit you in your office?”

  “Yes, but not often. Only when passing through this side of Santa-maria. Eldares is a big city, you know. Several towns in one, if you ask me.”

  “And so if Machokali and Nyawlra had made private arrangements to meet elsewhere in this city, which, as you say, contains multitudes, you would not know, would you?”

  “That is right, but I somehow don’t think they ever met outside my office.”

  �
��But if they did, you would not know?”

  “That’s right.”

  “When was Machokali’s last visit to Santamaria?”

  Tajirika hesitated. He could not remember whether their last encounter was supposed to be a secret or not. But he decided to err on the side of truth. Besides, deep down he did not mind showing this police officer that he, Tajirika, was well connected, that Machokali was his friend.

  “He came to see me just before he and the Buler left for the USA.”

  “He came to the office?”

  “No. We met at the Mars Cafe.”

  “So he did not come to the office to say good-bye to Nyawlra?”

  “I think that Nyawlra had fled by then.”

  “But you have already admitted that if they had made secret plans to meet, you would not know?”

  “I really and honestly don’t think they met.”

  “How can you be so sure? Did you know where Nyawlra was then hiding?”

  “No.”

  “And you were not with the minister all the time, everywhere?”

  “No.”

  “No to what?”

  “To the suggestion that I might have been with the minister the whole day. We met at the Mars Cafe, and after our talk he left me there.”

  “So all that you can say is that you never saw them meet?”

  “Yes, but that does not mean that I believe that they did,” Tajirika continued assertively, sensing a trap.

  “But you cannot swear in a court of law that they never met on that or any other day?”

  “That I cannot swear,” Tajirika hastened to say, alarmed at the mention of a law court.

  “What was the purpose of his visit? Why did he want to meet with you?”

  “He came to say good-bye. We are friends.”

  “Nothing else?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Let’s go back to your illness. You say that you were taken to a witch doctor for a cure. Who took you there?”

  “My wife, Vinjinia.”

  “How did she come to know of the witch doctor?”

  “The secretary told her about him.”

  “Nyawlra?”

  “Yes. Nyawlra.”

  “So in everything, be it your business or personal and family matters, this Nyawlra was somewhere in the background? A chief personal and family adviser?”

  “Please spare me the name. Were I, with all that I now know, to catch that Nyawlra woman, I…”

  “… would wring her neck until she was dead,” Elijah Njoya finished the sentence as if echoing him in mockery. “I know exactly what you would do powered with hindsight, and I commend you for it. Now, Mr. Tajirika, let’s be serious. I want to assure you that you have been very helpful and that if you continue cooperating with us you will see a change in your circumstances. The only thing I would warn you against are lies. Remember? Only the truth shall make you free. Are you sure that you have told me everything?”

  “I have told you all the truth I know.”

  “There is nothing you are holding back, a little detail, anything?”

  “Nothing.”

  “And by the way, what is the name of the sorcerer who cured you?”

  The question caught him unawares. He was about to say the name, Wizard of the Crow, when the implications of revealing it suddenly struck him. Money. The three bags of money. What if the diviner revealed the existence of the three bags of Burl notes and, worst of all, that they were “visiting cards” from those who hoped for later gains from Marching to Heaven? The last thing Tajirika wanted anybody else to know was that he had already pocketed money from a scheme involving the Ruler. The three bags of Burl notes must remain a secret buried forever in the innermost recesses of his head.

  “I don’t know his name.”

  “Are you sure? You don’t know the sorcerer’s name?”

  “A diviner is simply known as Diviner. I am not alone in this. Many who visit these healers don’t bother to remember their names. A diviner is not exactly someone you would have over for a party or a tete-ä-tete in your office.”

  Njoya laughed at this.

  “You have a sense of humor, Tajirika.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Officer…”

  “Call me Elijah. Your friend.”

  “Elijah, my friend,” said Tajirika. “Can I go now?”

  “Why not? Let me see about your transportation. Good luck, Mr. Tajirika.”

  At first Tajirika felt a sudden depression at being left alone. But as he reviewed the encounter, he felt relief and even triumph as he realized that not only had he deftly thwarted all attempts to link him to NyawTra, the queuing mania, and Machokali’s supposed plots, he had also avoided telling details of his illness, had gotten away with lying about the name of the Wizard of the Crow, and, most important, had not revealed anything about the three bags of money. Besides, he had won Njoya over and turned him into a friend and by tomorrow he would be lying in his own bed in Golden Heights.

  18

  But his new friend Njoya did not come back that night or the next or any other, for that matter, until Tajirika stopped trying to measure the passage of time. And then one day they came for him and blinded him as before, and when later they removed the blindfold he found himself seated in the lone chair in an otherwise empty room, amid a circle of light. All else was darkness. At the edges of the circle of light he saw what looked like traces of fresh and dried blood, confirming his worst fears. They were going to do to him what they had done to countless others, whose blood on the cement floor attested to their menace. He got up and wandered into the darkness in a daze. The spotlight followed him, and out of still more darkness came a voice.

  “Who told you to get up?”

  “Who are you?” Tajirika asked in terror, stopping dead in his tracks.

  “I am Superintendent Kahiga, Peter Kahiga.”

  “Where is Njoya, Superintendent Njoya? He promised me… What happened to my transportation?”

  “That all depends on your answers to my questions.”

  “I have already told you all that I know. What have I left unsaid?”

  “Only you can tell us. And I want you to know that I am hardly as understanding as Njoya. I am not easily swayed by tears. I am as hard as a rock. If you fool around, your feet will soon be hanging from the roof.”

  What do you want from me?” Tajirika asked, getting an eerie feeling as he addressed the disembodied voice.

  “Back in your chair,” the voice demanded.

  Engulfed by light, Tajirika did as he was told.

  “Answer all my questions, even the least. Why did you really go to the witch doctor?”

  “You mean the diviner? I told Njoya that I had gone there because I was ill.”

  “How would you say you felt after he healed you?”

  “At peace. Happy”

  “So you were elated by the person who healed you?”

  Would you be sad after being healed?”

  “I ask the questions around here, do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “And, now, Tajirika, having been healed so well that you felt so good, so peaceful, so happy, were you not even mildly curious about the person who had wrought such wonders? Not curious enough at least to learn his name?”

  Tajirika felt pushed into a tight corner. He had lied about not knowing the name of the man who had healed him for what he then thought were good reasons. But now he started questioning the wisdom of his lies. It seemed as if the unseen Kahiga knew something about the diviner. Had his wife, under threat of torture, told about the money? No matter what, Tajirika would stick to his story.

  “I just forgot his name. Everybody forgets things sometimes.”

  He had not expected the blow, and so when it came, a full and forceful slap across his face, Tajirika saw a thousand stars in the darkness of his mind. His instinct, when the dizziness subsided, was to rise and fight, but how do you fight a shadow in the dark? He felt tears of rage and frust
ration streaming down his face.

  “Why did you hit me? I have not refused to answer any of your questions!”

  “I told you that my name is Peter Kahiga, not Elijah Njoya. Come clean with me. I’m not here to play word games.”

  “I have nothing to hide.”

  “And you still claim not to remember the name of your witch doctor?”

  “No. Forgetfulness is not a crime.”

  “I will bring you friends to help jump-start your memory…”

  Even as Kahiga was completing his sentence, Tajirika felt presences behind him, but before he could turn around two of the men grabbed him by the shoulders and the neck and pinned him against the back of the chair. The third yanked Tajirika’s hand behind him while a fourth stuck a needle under the nail of his index finger. Tajirika struggled, but pointlessly

  “I beg you, stop. I’ll try to remember. What do you want to know?” he asked the men in the shadows.

  “How many times must I repeat myself?” the voice in the dark asked. “We want to know everything about the witch doctor, or whatever you choose to call him. I mean everything, every word he said to you, the number of times you met, even the clothes he wore.”

  “Then ask your men to take their hands off me,” he said.

  “What men?” Kahiga asked. “No one is touching you. Are you hallucinating?”

  Tajirika was able to move his hands freely. He quickly turned his head around and saw no one. Am I out of my mind? Or are they playing mind tricks?

  “Where are the men who were just here?” Tajirika asked.

  “They have gone back whence they came, but they will surely return if you don’t stop asking questions. Now about the witch doctor…”

  “I met him only once. The clothes he wore, I cannot remember, but I think, well, I only saw his face.”

  “And his name?”

  They were definitely on to something, he sensed: there was no point in claiming loss of memory anymore.

  “The Wizard of the Crow. That is his name.”

  “And why didn’t you say so earlier?”

  “The effects of aging. As you get older, memory weakens.”