Anthills of the Savannah
Page 58
“Isé!”
“May they also remember useless old people like myself and Elewa’s mother when they are making their plans.”
“Isé!”
“We have seen too much trouble in Kangan since the white man left because those who make plans make plans for themselves only and their families.”
Abdul was nodding energetically, his head bent gently towards his simultaneous translator, Emmanuel.
“I say, there is too much fighting in Kangan, too much killing. But fighting will not begin unless there is first a thrusting of fingers into eyes. Anybody who wants to outlaw fights must first outlaw the provocation of fingers thrust into eyes.”
“Isé! Isé!!”
Abdul, a relative stranger to the kolanut ritual, was carried away beyond the accustomed limits of choral support right into exuberant hand-clapping.
“I have never entered a house like this before. May this not be my last time.”
“Isé!”
“You are welcome any time,” added Beatrice following Abdul’s breaking of ritual bounds.
“If something pursues us we shall escape but if we pursue something we shall catch it.”
“Isé!”
“As long as what we pursue does not belong to somebody else.”
“Isé!”
“Everybody’s life!”
“Isé!”
“The life of Bassa!”
“Isé!”
“The life of Kangan.”
“Isé!”
AFTER ELEWA’S MOTHER AND UNCLE had left with Aina and Braimoh in the old taxi, the party continued in the quiet and relaxed afterglow of the day’s ritual intensity. But it proved a day extraordinary in stamina and before long a new surge of passion was building up secretly below its placid expansiveness.
It began in ripples of simple reminiscence. Emmanuel, it was plain to see, was rather pleased with himself and so chose to congratulate someone else, Beatrice, on the evolution, as he called it, of the two-headed toast to people and ideas. She, on her part, was a captain whose leadership was sharpened more and more by sensitivity to the peculiar needs of her company.
“I must say I liked your spirited stand for ideas.”
“Mutual Admiration Club forming up again,” sang Abdul.
“And jealousy will get us nowhere,” sang Beatrice.
“But looking back on it,” continued Emmanuel passing up the bait of banter, “I think you taught me something very important by holding out for people. Do you remember the day you told me that Chris had taught me to be a gentleman?”
“It was only a joke.”
“Jokes are serious,” said Abdul impishly.
“Yes they are… That day and again today you were making me aware of my debt to Chris. I don’t know why I never thought of it before but the greatest thing he taught me was seeing the way he died.”