Jagua Nana

‘Das why you don’ marry him?’

‘Not so.’ Jagua toyed with the door of the car. ‘I don’ marry him because I already promise you.’ The tears were running to the tips of her eyes and her nose began to leak. She took out a handkerchief and dabbed it over her eyelashes. She saw now that all her friendships in Freddie’s absence were inadequate. Dennis Odoma, though young, was no substitute for Freddie Namme. Freddie had more than youth. He had gentility, royal blood, ambition. She noticed how tastefully he was dressed. He still had on the dark coat and dark bow tie he must have been wearing in a cold climate. London had taught him something, to care a little more for his personal appearance. His profession exalted that trait too. This was the dream she had always wanted. But now here he was and she had become an outsider. ‘My England man!’ she cried, and began to sob.

Freddie took her into the car.

‘Le’s reach my place, Freddie. I take God beg you. Le’s reach my place! …’

‘Why you cryin’, Jagua?’

‘Because I love too much, Freddie. And although ah got sense wit’ odder men; with you I just become like fool.’ She said no more. He started the car.

‘De same place? … I drop you dere. I mus’ go back to Nancy and de children; dey waitin’ in de house for me. Ah love my wife, Jagua.’

She turned her head away from the family picture. ‘How you manage when you reach England?’

He told her in a few words how he had ‘managed’. The money she had loaned him had helped; but that was only the start. He found that, to get along he had to take a job in London. He got something with London Transport and when he was not working he was trying to read. He was able to live in a two-pounds-a-week room in Paddington, doing his own cooking. The shopping took a lot of time, until Nancy came and they began living together. What really took much of his time was secretarial work for the London branch of the political party O.P. 1.

‘Which time you buy car, Freddie?’ Jagua ran her fingers over the facia. ‘You only jus’ return; where you get de money?’

‘Is on loan,’ Freddie told her. He turned a corner, away from the Main Road. ‘Is party car for our people O.P. 1. You know am de candidate for Obanla constituency. Das one reason why I returning at dis time. To contest and to organize.’

‘Welcome, Freddie! I glad too much to see you, I nearly die with glad … Freddie, I wan’ to go sleep wit’ you, now, an’ see whedder you be same —’

‘No more of that nonsense!’ A passing car lit up his frowning face. She felt a sudden painful wrench at her heart.

‘Freddie, you get de letter I write you?’

‘Yes,’ he grunted.

‘Why you don’ reply?’

‘Jagua, I reply; sometime you don’ get de reply.’ They had entered her street. Jagua recognized the familiar trees. ‘Look, Jagua. I will come an’ see you nex’ time.’

‘So what you wan’ to do now, as you return? You wan’ to forget me, eh? Even as ah help you?’ She saw him hesitate, feeling the threat in her voice. Then he stopped the car and held the door open for her to climb out. She got out and the angry words came spitting out her fury. ‘You not even goin’ to step into harlot woman house? Das what I become in your eye, Freddie! Is good-O! God live above everythin’ …’ She changed the subject. ‘Is true you goin’ to contest in de election?’

‘I goin’ to contest in Obanla, sure.’

‘Obanla?’ Jagua seemed to hear the name for the first time. ‘Das where Uncle Taiwo contestin’. And das where Dennis Odoma live.’

‘Uncle Taiwo? De same man who bring you to de airport de day I leavin’ for U.K.?’

‘Yes; is Uncle Taiwo keepin’ me and payin’ de rent for me. Is a very strong party man and he get plenty money for spend. I don’ see how you fit to win from him. I goin’ to help him defeat you, Freddie, because me and you not one person any more. Kin you spen’ money like him?’

Elections in Lagos, Jagua told him, were not won by wearing smart clothes and appearing distant from the people. You had to show them what you could do for them, before you won. You must associate with everyone, particularly the lowest ones, and regard them as your friends. You must give them the freedom of your time and thought, your car and your room. In such a manner only would you learn how they thought and acted. Uncle Taiwo was working very hard indeed, she told him. Uncle Taiwo was distributing money presents to the people. She told him what happened only last week. She went with him to the court in Obanla and when anyone was fined, Uncle Taiwo promptly paid up the fine. Those men would surely vote for Uncle Taiwo when the time came; and she was sure they would get their friends to vote for this ‘good’ man. The whole of Obanla was plastered with pictures of Uncle Taiwo and all the women had received matchboxes and cooking stoves with his portrait on them and the schoolchildren exercise books with his portrait. Uncle Taiwo was the man to vote for because he had had a big start already on Freddie whom no one had ever heard about.

Freddie smiled. ‘We still got another three month.’

‘And anodder thin’, Freddie. I goin’ to fight you till I die. Me an’ Uncle Taiwo. I give you fair warnin’. If you wan’ to win, you mus’ start now.’

He turned sharply and Jagua saw the expectant spark in his eyes. ‘You wan’ me to win?’

She turned away. ‘No, Freddie. I no wan’ you to win.’ She saw him sit eagerly forward and frown. She went on. ‘Politics not for you, Freddie. You got education. You got culture. You’re a gentleman an’ proud. Politics be game for dog. And in dis Lagos, is a rough game. De roughest game in de whole worl’. Is smelly an’ dirty an’ you too clean an’ sweet. I speakin’ frank to you, Freddie. I don’ want you inside at all. I hear rumour dat O.P. 2 wan’ to kill one man from your party …’ She spoke honestly, and hoped Freddie would listen and learn. At some points, Freddie spread his hands and his shoulders tensed as though he meant to interrupt her. But he did not talk. England seemed to have changed him.

Suddenly he said, ‘I wan’ money quick-quick; an’ politics is de only hope.’ She saw the flicker in his eye. ‘Talkin’ about money, Jagua; I awready write de cheque of all de amount I owe you. Is in de post, registered. You goin’ to receive it in a day or two. I thank you for all de help.’

She heard him turn the engine on. The car started to move slowly away. ‘So you not comin’ into de house?’

‘I’ll come – nex’ time, Jagua.’