Matigari

by Ngũgĩ Wa Thiong'o

  And the day remained dull. Not hot, not cold. No sunshine, no rain. Just lukewarm.

  And now he was saddened because he bore a burden alone in his heart. It was a heavy burden of many unanswered questions, which he turned in his mind alone. What frightened him "was the feeling that he was perhaps the only one preoccupied with what was happening in the country — indeed, as if he was all alone in the entire country. But what bothered him even more was Guthera's story. Whenever he recalled how she had saved him, he would ask himself a lot of questions. If, , . If. . . If. . , If. . . If what? The line that divided truth from lies, good from bad, purity from evil, where was it? What was the difference between right and wrong? Who was the evil one? Was it the one who led another into sin, or the one who actually sinned?" Who was the bad one? The one who drove another into bad ways, or the one caught carrying out the evil? Long before, children had sung to the five different fingers of their hands:

  First little finger said: Let’s go!

  And the second asked: Where to?

  The third said: To steal?

  And the index: Suppose we are caught.

  The thumb said: Count me out!

  What was to be righted first? The condition which led people to sin, or the souls of the people who sinned?

  Where were truth and justice in life?

  He felt so lonely. Thoughts of saving himself only and forgetting all the rest crept into him and weakened his resolve. He left behind the paths walked by the people. He went into the wilderness.

  12

  He looked for truth and justice in the grass and in the bushes. He searched among the thorns, in the shrubs, the ditches and the molehills, and in birds’ nests. He searched for them in the whole of nature. He was like otic deranged! And all the while his heart beat: A fanner does not stop sowing just because one crop has failed. The seeker of justice does not stop searching until he finds it. Truth never dies. Justice is mightier than strength. Tell me: Where on this earth can one find truth and justice?

  He came across some shepherds on the plains. As he drew to where they were, he saw that they had two radios; a Sanyo and a Phillips model. They were on full blast. They were both tuned to the same channel.

  This is the Voice of Truth . . . His Excellency . .

  Radios bleeping in the wilderness. The Voice of Truth had become the herdsman’s flute that lulled the herds to sleep. He ran away, but not bound for anywhere. The announcer’s voice seemed to chase him across the plains . . .

  He came across an old woman collecting rubbish outside her shelter in the wilderness. Her hair was knotted, A comb had not passed through it for a fair while. Matigari walked up to her and asked for some water to drink.

  ‘If you continue like this, you’ll end up like me - picking leaves and talking to yourself!’ she shouted, although Matigari was standing close to her. ‘What are you looking for in the wilderness?’

  ‘Truth and justice,’ Matigari answered.

  The woman laughed, a mixture of genuine pity and sarcasm, and handed him water to drink.

  ‘My dear wanderer, you cannot find answers to your questions here where nobody lives. Truth and justice arc to be found in people’s actions. Right and wrong are embedded in what people do. But even among the people, you still have a problem in finding the answers to your questions. And do you know why? Let me whisper this in your ear. Come closer. It is fear. There is too much fear in this country. How does the saying go? Too much fear breeds misery in the land. Leave me in peace. Go! Go to the wise men, those who know how to read the stars.’

  ‘Do they still exist?’ he asked. ‘I thought that the shepherds were the wise men, for they have always studied the stars. The stars used to guide them in the wilderness. It was during their wanderings that they composed songs containing all the wisdom gathered from the stars! But weren’t they the ones I now found, bending over their radios, listening to the Voice of Truth to get guidance across the wilderness? They no longer study the stars. They study the Voice of Truth . .

  ‘Go then and plead with those who study books. Books are the modern stars. Those who study them are the wise men of today. Why do you think they are being harassed so much? Why do you think they are being asked to sing only to the tune of the one person? That they must only echo the one man, singing “his master’s voice”? Happy are they who suffer in search of truth, for their minds and hearts are free, and they hold the key to the future. But it does not mean that they have all seen the same light at the same time, or that they have all been redeemed of fear! Tell me this: Isn’t it possible for one to find at least one or two among them who have been freed of fear and can untie the knot and reveal what’s hidden? Here, take some food . , . Over there, you will find the road . . . Farewell . . . Let me continue sweeping this dirt that has so quickly accumulated in our country!’

  The woman continued sweeping and collecting rubbish.

  Matigari set off again, many questions still troubling him. Why didn’t I think of it before? The student I met yesterday and the teacher, were they not arrested for seeking the truth? Let me start my search from scratch. Looking for truth and justice is truly a hard job. Yet, no matter how tired I become, I will never stop searching. How can I let John Boy, a messenger, and the settler — the whole breed of parasites — grab the house that I built with my own hands? How can I let him keep the home for which I shed my blood? How can my wealth remain in the hands of the whole breed of them-who-reap-where-they- never-sowed and their black messengers?

  Most of all, he was inspired by the depth of Guthera’s and Muriuki’s commitment to him. He thought of Guthera. He thought of Muriuki. Their agony had become his agony; their suffering, his suffering.

  As he recalled how Guthera had given herself as a sacrificial lamb for his salvation, a sharp pain stabbed his heart, and he felt tears sting his eyelids. He asked himself over and over again: In what corner of the earth, this earth, are truth and justice hiding? For how long shall my children continue wandering, homeless, naked and hungry, over this earth? And who shall wipe away the tears from the faces of all the women dispossessed on this earth?

  No! In nature and in history there was a mysterious knot, Matigari felt strongly. He had to find someone who could untie the knot, somebody who could reveal the secret of the Universe.

  13

  It would have been better if it had clearly rained or clearly shone. Better any of that than this uncertain weather. Yes, better if it were hot or cold, rather than lukewarm like this.

  He went in search of the wise who taught and studied modern stars.

  14

  The student had locked himself in his study. When he saw Matigari, he trembled so much that the book he was holding fell on the floor. He did not even offer him a seat.

  ‘What is it? What is it?’ the student asked in a frightened voice.

  Matigari paused for a while. Could this be the very same student with whom he had shared the police cell? What had happened to his light-hearted jokes and manner? Where had all his courage gone to? Matigari explained the purpose of his visit.

  ‘I have travelled the length and breadth of this country looking for truth and justice. I met a woman in the plains who said to me: Why have you left behind the students of modem stars? That reminded me of you — that you and I were together yesterday. So I said to myself: Yes, wasn’t the student arrested because of searching for the truth? Let me start my search afresh. One must never scorn a grain of sand or a drop of rain. That is why I am here. Open those books that you are studying, and tell me: Where can a person girded with a belt of peace find truth and justice in this country?’

  ‘Listen,’ said the student, still trembling and full of fear, ‘these days are not like the days we used to know, our yesterdays. Did you hear the radio announcement today? Five university students were sentenced to five years’ imprisonment in a maximum-security prison. And that is not all . . The student hesitated. He felt sad. As he spoke, his voice was full of tears of many years. �
��When did we part? Was it only yesterday evening? Or was it the day before? Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Yesterday, the day before, years ago, it has been the same story. I rushed to the university to hide among the other students. I found that they had called a prayer-meeting at the church to pray for those who had been arrested. They also wanted to pray for peace and love in the country. Oh! Oh! Do you know what we went through? The same fate as was meted out to the workers. As we were kneeling down, our eyes closed in prayer, soldiers and policemen surrounded us. Some of us had our arms and legs broken. Twenty-five students were killed instantly. One woman was eight months pregnant . . . She had a miscarriage there and then. Was all this reported or mentioned on the radio? The Voice of Truth? No! All that the Voice of Truth had to say was that the university was closed because the students went on strike over food. That’s a lie. I was there! I am a witness! I just escaped miraculously. But I have learned something else. His Excellency Ole Excellence means business. I have stopped asking too many questions. Democracy here means, first, fending for oneself. So I’ll finish my studies first, get myself a job at the bank and acquire a few things of my own. Or else I shall get my self a scholarship, go to the USA and come back and start a private research institute. I’ll become a consultant for Western companies and governments. But I have a question. Where can one find something one can appropriate for oneself? If you have any more questions you’d better go to the teacher of modem stars . .

  There are two types of modern students, Matigari thought to himself; those who love the truth, and those who sell the truth. What about the modern teachers? Teachers of modern stars? On parting, he said to the student:

  ‘Great fear breeds great misery in the land. Give a little sacrifice to appease a thieving evil spirit, and this will only whet its appetite and greed for more . . .’

  15

  The teacher was in his house, pen in hand. When he saw Matigari, he felt suddenly weak. His welcome to Matigari came in the form of a question.

  ‘What do you want?’

  ‘I have been roaming all over — ’

  ‘So you haven’t heard the news yet?’ He cut him short. ‘What news?’

  ‘They are looking for you.’

  ‘Hunting for one who’s hunting for the truth?’

  ‘As the saying goes, the hunter may very well find himself hunted. This country has changed from what it was yesterday, or what it was when we fought for it. We have no part to play in it any more. I’m thinking of going to a country where there aren’t as many problems as here.’

  ‘There are two worlds,’ Matigari said to the teacher. ‘There is the world of those who accept things as they are, and there is that of those who want to change things. Which world do you belong to?’

  ‘What? Change? Revolution? Are you one of those radicals who talk about revolution? I think that it’s better that you leave. I don’t want your radicalism to rub off on me. Revolution is like leprosy . . .’

  ‘You won’t tell me where I can find it?’

  ‘Find what? Leprosy?’

  ‘Truth. And justice. When we were in prison, didn’t I hear you ask: If I cannot teach the truth, what should I teach, then?

  Since we parted last night I haven’t slept a wink. I haven’t rested either. I have wandered all over the country looking for somebody who can tell me where a person who has girded himself with a belt of peace can find truth and justice! In the wilderness, I met a woman who said to me: Go to those who teach modern wisdom, the modern wise men of modem stars. That is why I am here. Take your chalk or your pen and tell me! Where in this country can a person girded with a belt of peace find truth and justice?’

  ‘Sssshhh, stop talking so loudly,’ the teacher cautioned him, ‘Yesterday is gone and forgotten. Today is a new day. Tomorrow will be another day. Didn’t you hear that teachers and lecturers are being detained without trial? Look at me. I have a wife and two children. What will they eat if I am sent to prison? And all for asking too many questions! The “thief'’ told us that there is a lot of wisdom in learning to keep one’s lips sealed. He ought to have added that there are people who reap benefits from singing the approved tunc, those who dance in step with the approved dance. I have since been ordained into the order of cowardice and have joined the ranks of those whose lips are sealed. You’d better go . . . No, wait a minute . . . I’ve thought of something else . . . Listen. If you really want to find the answers to your questions you should go to the priest. He never puts down his Bible. He does nothing else but read the Bible all day long and interpret it to the people. He might be able to tell you all about truth and justice . .

  Matigari looked at the teacher. The teacher’s eyes were filled with intense fear. His face was streaming with sweat.

  ‘Let me tell you something,’ Matigari said. ‘I have just come from seeing the student of modern stars. I told him that too much fear breeds misery in the land ... Far better are those who are going to gaol singing songs of courage rooted in their commitment to truth and justice . . . What else did I tell him? There are two types of the wise ones of the stars: those who love the truth, and those who sell the truth.’

  16

  He found the priest kneeling in prayer. A Bible lay open in front of him. He wore a cassock and a white dog-collar. He looked as though he were preparing to go and perform a ceremony.

  Matigari stood just inside the doorway.

  The priest remained absorbed in this prayer posture. He was greatly worried by the rumours that Jesus had returned. Suppose there were truth in them? He was now asking God for guidance on the matter just in case . . .

  . . . just as you said, Lord, that we should keep our lamps ready at all times like the five wise maidens. For two people will be in the fields; ike one shall be taken and the other left. Two women shall be grinding the mill; the one shall be taken, and the other will be left behind. You should always be ready, for none knows when the Lord will return . . . But remember, 0 Lord, how you also said that, since nobody knows the time of your returning, day or night, minute or hour, we should therefore be wary of false prophets. For there will come those who wish to deceive the hearts of the elect, and false Christs and false prophets will arise. That is why I am praying, Lord, that you open my eyes and my ears so that I may see and hear you, no matter how you are dressed. For you also said that when you return you will remove from your sight those who never came to see you when you were in prison or in hospital, those who did not feed you when you were hungry or give you water when you were thirsty! Such people will cry unto you, saying: When did we see you hungry or thirsty or naked or ill or in prison and did not tend to you? And you will tell them: Just as you did not for the least of those among you, so you did not unto me - ’

  Matigari cleared his throat. The priest stopped abruptly and leapt to his feet. The sweat that had broken on his brow made it glisten. His heart was beating heavily, but he tried to steel himself.

  ‘Who are you?’ he asked Matigari.

  Before Matigari could answer, the priest remembered his prayer and how those who had not tended to the least among them would be thrown into the everlasting fire, and he hurriedly began doing good deeds to Matigari, driven by doubt

  and fear.

  ‘Please sit down! He gave Matigari a seat and started to welcome him with kindly words. ‘I know I shouldn’t ask, but are you hungry?’

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘Are you feeling ill at all?’ '

  'NO?'

  ‘You are not thirsty, are you?’

  ‘No?

  ‘And you don’t have any problems at all . . , such as lack of clothes, or shelter perhaps?’

  ‘My thirst and hunger are not for material things. My only thirst and hunger are to do with my troubled spirit. I have travelled far and wide looking for truth and justice.’

  ‘Truth and justice?’

  ‘Yes?

  ‘Have you been to church?’

  ‘No. I don’t belong to your religions or to your ch
urches. But a weary bird will perch and nest on any tree. I have searched in market-places, in shops, at crossroads, in the fields, in the courts of law and even in the wilderness. I have walked. I have ridden in matatus, on donkey carts, buses, lorries, trains and boats. I have been to the police, to the judges, to all the different government officers. I have been to students, to teachers, but all in vain. None of these people was able to answer my questions. Finally somebody told me: Go to the modern wise men of God. That is who you are, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, you have come to the right place?

  ‘You read and interpret God’s words. Let me unload on you a burden which is weighing heavily on me. I shall not keep anything away from you for sound advice can only be given in reply to frank words. Long ago, there was a young woman. She was the purest of maids. She had spent all her life obeying two masters: the heavenly Father, and her earthly father. She never failed to attend prayer-meetings and she always went to church. During the war for independence, her earthly father was arrested by the police. They told her that she could save him only by surrendering her purity. She refused, and her father was hanged. She was left to look after her brothers and sisters. So she said to her heavenly Father: Help me take care of my family. She prayed and prayed. But there was no food to eat, and there were no clothes to wear! So she decided to walk the streets. She needed money to buy food and clothes. However, from that day she swore to herself: Lord, give me the strength never to go to bed with those who killed my father, or with any of their kind. Give me the strength, sinner though I be, give me the courage, to obey this eleventh commandment! The years went by. Then a man came out of the forest, where the guerrillas fighting for the land had based themselves. He found policemen setting a dog on the young woman. They wanted favours from her. But she would not have anything to do with them. The man rescued her. Soon after that, the man was thrown into prison. The young woman went and gave herself to one of the policemen, who, after he had had his fill was gripped by that sleep which comes over us men after such events. The young woman took the keys and gave them to a boy with whom she had arranged all this. The boy went and opened up the cell, letting out the man and ten other prisoners. The boy locked up the cell and returned the keys to the young woman, who in turn put them back into the policeman’s pocket, and she pretended to sleep. When the policeman woke up, he found the young woman still asleep next to him. He hurriedly got up, so that his superiors would not find him sleeping in the office. The young woman went away. But she was filled with grief. She had finally broken her eleventh commandment. . . Tell, me,’you who read and interpret the words of God: Where lies truth in this matter? Where lies justice? Where are truth and justice to be found on this earth? Because I know that, wherever that young woman is, she is in tears. What hive you to say? With what words would you wipe away her tears? The Father in heaven, why did He create a world that was so upside-down? A world in which those who sow evil reap good, and those who sow good reap evil! What do the holy books you study have to say about all this? Tell me the answer to the riddle. Untie this knot for me. Tell me: What shall I say to the young woman? For I told her I would not go back to see her until I had found the answers to her questions . .