She sighed. ‘Ah tol’ you before, Chief Ofubara. I tol’ you dat I got somethin’ to beg you. You already done one. You release Nancy. But dis one is somethin’ I want to beg you for myself.’ She felt his hands slacken. ‘When am leavin’ dis Krinameh, I want me an’ you to go togedder to Bagana. I take God beg you dis. We will go togedder to Bagana, and you will shake hand with Uncle Namme. Das all I beg you.’
Chief Ofubara sat straight up on the settee. ‘I got my pride, Madam. Why they themselves can’t come to me? They know the way!’
‘But you tol’ me jus’ now dat you love me?’
‘Yes.’
‘An’ you promise to give me wardrobe. An’ I know dat if you ready to give me money, it will be somethin’ … But I don’ ask you for all dat. I jus’ ask you to come with me to Bagana an’ shake hand with Uncle Namme. Den you two kin talk. Lissen, Chief Ofubara. Your country people, dem suffer because of dis foolish proud you showin’. You proud. David Namme proud. Uncle Namme proud. Well, I got no proud, so I beg you for my sake.’ She saw that he was listening and went on: ‘Just now you talk with me. You say you wan’ unity. Well, I goin’ to give you de chance to get dat unity! …’
She got down and began to unbutton her skirt herself. His eyes widened. She was wearing silk undergarments frilled with the finest lace. She knew how clean her body was and how beautifully groomed. When he talked now, his voice was trembling. He was hooked.
‘So that’s all you want from me? Just that.’
‘Oh, God bless you! … I know you’re better dan dem all. Dem only talking word. But you doin’ de deed! …’
‘I like your shape, Jagua … I wan’ to marry you.’
‘Am a business woman; I can’t marry no one, Chief.’
One part of her felt intensely sorry for the Chief. He was still under the Jagwa dazzle and she knew she could have got anything out of him. She asked for some more O.H.M.S. which he quickly provided and they sat drinking. She strutted about the room in her high heels and jutted out her hips. His eyes were getting redder and redder with every passing moment. He slapped her bottom and pulled her to his knees, kneading her breasts.
He took her to bed and she gave him herself with an abandon calculated to shock and delight him. The feigned noises, practised over the years, the carefully punctuated sighs and cries of pain, the sudden flexing of thighs and neck … All these she performed with a precision which surprised herself. It was a long time since she had played her true role.
Chief Ofubara went mad. ‘I mus’ marry you.’ He rose and walked to another room. She heard him rummaging in a cupboard. When he came back he was holding a green canvas bag. ‘We got no use for this here …’ He threw a wad of notes on the bed. It was marked one hundred pounds. ‘You say you’re from Ogabu. The bride price there is about one hundred and twenty pounds.’ He dipped his hand into the bag and threw on the bed another bundle. It was marked fifty pounds.
Jagua sat quite still. She felt rotten, loose and awful. She knew she could never really abandon her past life and settle down with someone like Chief Ofubara in a village like Krinameh. But the money would come in useful. She reached out her hand and clasped the two bundles.
‘Come lay down, Chief. You never satisfy me. I hungry for your love.’ She guessed that none of his wives would dare talk to him as an equal. He came and lay beside her. She took off his clothes for him and kissed him.
‘Hol’ me tight. I goin’ to teach you ’bout de worl’. I goin’ to show you how young man use’ to loss his head when ’e sleep Jagwa woman.’
He was mumbling incoherently and sucking at her lips like a child of six months. She stroked his hair tenderly and laughed the submissive laughter of the practised whore, brassy, with an eye to the gold coins in the trousers pocket.
Jagua Nana remained in the palace at Krinameh for ten days. And every day a canoeman from Bagana came searching for her in the palace at Krinameh, but she always sent him back to tell Uncle Namme that she was well and would soon return.
The wounded lion had been caged. Jagua felt the proud glow heroes must feel on their return, victorious, from the hunting ground, carrying the vanquished animal on their shoulders. When the people of Bagana saw the Royal Canoe of Krinameh with Chief Ofubara gloriously seated in it, they stared. They crowded the beach. The canoe landed and stalwart arms lifted Jagua and Chief Ofubara and planted them on Bagana soil. Chief Ofubara took a handful of the soil and tasted it and Jagua heard him mumbling like a man at prayer.
Jagua showed him Uncle Namme standing in the group further away from the water’s edge. He was flanked by his councillors. Mama Nancy and Nancy stood on the fringes of the group. Nancy was wearing a maroon T-shirt with a white bow above her left breast.
Jagua whispered to Chief Ofubara. ‘Go meet Uncle Namme now. Remember how you promise me? I take God beg you: don’ show any proud. Go meet Uncle Namme. Salute am like you brodder an’ let everythin’ finish today!’
Chief Ofubara tottered and hesitated, but Jagua gave him no respite. She prodded him in the back. One step at a time he advanced on Uncle Namme and his Councillors, holding out his hand. Jagua saw the muscles tighten in Uncle Namme’s jaw. He must be struggling with himself. Instead of taking the proferred arm, Uncle Namme opened out his arms and the two men embraced. The tears came in a flood to Jagua’s eyes as she watched the scene.
Many times in later years Jagua saw this happy moment in her dreams. It was evening and the sun was peeping for the last time over the tops of the mangrove trees. The bars of gold etched out the red and yellow robes of the two royal men who had been in strife for over thirty years, but had now come together. Fussing around them was an amateur photographer, focusing his lens on the great Bagana picture that was later to hang on every wall in Krinameh and Bagana. While the men embraced drums of Bagana sang out the joyful news. Men ran after goats, and capturing them slashed off their heads. Fowls were taken and their blood spilt on the family altars. The news went round and round that a great thing had happened, that a woman from another land had brought with her the good luck they had prayed for all the time. Jagua beamed with joy. She knew that her victory in bringing the two feuding villages together was far greater than Nancy’s mastery of the Bagana dance. She did not deceive herself into thinking that the problem had been solved. Wounds inflicted many years ago, she knew, still festered. But she was glad. The first step had been taken; and there was goodwill on both sides.
She could hardly see clearly for tears as she joined the procession to the palace, mumbling the joyful song with the crowd.
‘When David Namme returns from Port Harcourt,’ said Uncle Namme, ‘we shall rejoice – properly. Oh, this is a great thing.’ He turned and looked admiringly at Jagua. ‘So this is what kept you, eh? You did well! You should be made a queen of Bagana for this!’
‘I already ask her,’ Chief Ofubara said.
‘And she refused, of course!’ laughed Uncle Namme. ‘She promised Freddie Namme, but I don’t know about that young man. He wants Jagua, he wants Nancy! He must make up his mind … I don’t understand these modern people … But Jagua is a sincere lady.’ He winked at Chief Ofubara. ‘If you’re serious, perhaps she will change her mind. Personally, I believe Jagua will suit you fine, eh?’ He was in a happy mood, Jagua could see that and she smiled and sang even louder.
The mention of Freddie shot through her a stab of remorse and pain. She knew she must not wait any longer in Bagana. She must be on her way back, through Ogabu and Onitsha. Her mission in Bagana was accomplished. She had known Freddie’s people and become known to them. No matter what her enemies thought and said, she felt she ha
d contributed something to the happiness of Bagana.
That night, in the middle of the drumming, with the hurricane lanterns etching out the muscular outlines of the dancers, Jagua went and touched Chief Ofubara. He lifted his face and his eyes danced with admiration. For his benefit she had shampooed and curled her hair and from her earrings down to her dancing shoes, the colour was violet. The hurricane lamps caressed the skin above her breasts, her bare shoulders and arms. She had accentuated her eyes with discreet applications of antimony. The total effect pleased her: that of the well-groomed and happy woman, mature and independent.