Jagua Nana

Jagua knew when to expect Freddie. He always came when Uncle Taiwo was away. She took off all her clothes and scented her ear lobes, the pits of her arms. She rubbed scent on her breasts before encasing them in cotton cups. She darkened the lights of the room, then went back into bed. Now she was determined to turn Freddie against his wife, to make him loathe the very sight of her, to break up his home if only to repay Nancy’s humiliation of her. She would show Nancy that a harlot can wield great power over men’s homes. Uncle Taiwo she had already worked up into such a state of anger against Freddie that he could easily waylay and fight him. She had told him that Freddie was pestering her life, that she had warned him often never to come to her but obstinately he still came to worry her in her home. Also that Freddie was resorting to subterfuge to snatch Obanla constituency from him. All this made Uncle Taiwo determined to get even with Freddie.

Jagua rolled over in the soft bed. She thought of Dennis Odoma. It was now known that the Police Officer had died in hospital. When Freddie Namme came she would appeal to him to help defend Dennis. She was sure Freddie could do a lot for Dennis, if only she could convince him to undertake the defence.

She heard voices outside. Rosa was speaking to someone. She listened. ‘Sleepin’?’ she heard Freddie say. ‘At this time of de night?’

‘She jus’ return from outside.’

‘Go an’ wake her! No – never min’.’

Then she heard the door being softly knocked and she turned and hid her face against the wall and started snoring. She threw her limbs carelessly about the bed, half covering her thighs. Freddie would come in and see her lying seductively. Then he would touch her, and she would sigh and open her eyes and roll away from him.

But it was Rosa who came into the room. ‘Who dat?’ asked Jagua.

‘Is Freddie, an’ one man. I tink is dese election people, I tell dem you sleepin’ …’

‘Fool! I don’ tell you say whenever Freddie come here, you mus’ let him enter de house.’

‘So you tell me, Ma; but—’

‘Outside now. Let me res’.’

Later that night, Jagua dressed with great care. She went to the Tropicana and sat in a corner. They brought her beer. Not long afterwards she saw Freddie come in. He was surrounded by a number of youngsters, bearded, in bright shirts and boots. He looked worn out. He came and sat by her. The five stalwart ones formed a ring round their table.

‘Freddie, who all dese men?’

‘My bodyguard.’ He laughed his harsh laugh. ‘You don’ know say every candidate mus’ have bodyguard nowadays?’

Jagua fidgeted with her glass. ‘As you come sit near me with all dese men; suppose Uncle Taiwo come here into de Tropicana and fin’ you with me?’

‘Uncle Taiwo and him people done go to de village to campaign. We lef’ dem dere. He won’ come here now.’

‘Freddie, I tink ah already beg you to lef’ politics. Is too dangerous a game now. Fancy, you goin’ around with a bodyguard. You givin’ employment to wild boys who care nothin’ about person life. You ready to take responsible when dem kill some man? Or you think all dis be play?’

‘I don’t care now. Is too late to go back. I want money.’

He told her how he had been campaigning one afternoon when Uncle Taiwo let loose his boys and they ran into his own men, injuring more than a dozen people. He himself was cut in the face. Since then he never went outside without these five boys who had all been in the Burma Campaign. He protected himself because he had been told that Uncle Taiwo was planning to kill him.

‘Nonsense!’ Jagua said. ‘Is your political rival, but Uncle T. is not person who will kill somebody

. You jokin’, Freddie! Das de change I seen in you. Since you return from Englan’, you want money, and because of dat you trustin’ nobody.’

He smiled. ‘Is true, but de man hate me for nothin’ sake. I done nothin’ to him.’ His hands did not even shake as he poured the beer from the bottle.

‘By the way,’ Jagua said. ‘You hear about Dennis Odoma? De man I seen among your bodyguard sometime? Dem say de police arrest ’im.’

‘So I hear. I sorry for Dennis. He done a foolish thing. No way out for him. He done a very serious thing against de law. Dem goin’ to hang de poor boy, for murder of a police officer. Is a very serious offence.’

There was something final in Freddie’s voice. Jagua felt the tears coming to her eyes. ‘Freddie, I beg you; go and defend de boy.’

‘No, Jagua. I got no time. I got to concentrate on de election. De Government will give him their own lawyer.’

Jagua sighed. She could not help liking Dennis. Desperately she prayed the law would overlook his mistake and spare his life.

Jagua did not miss a single dance. It must have been the exhilaration of her election speech, but she found she could not sit still. She tapped her foot and shook her shoulders. The rhythm seemed to filter through her pores into her skin which was now afire under it. Finding no partner she wiggled away alone leaving Freddie at the table.

She had been dancing alone for some time, when other women joined her, also unpartnered. Tropicana girls sometimes revelled in this kind of exclusive ‘all-ladies’ dance, a fashion parade in Accra wax prints and colourful velvets. Men, take your choice, they seemed to say. Encouraged, Jimo Ladi and his Leopards played even louder, and the high-life spun along for a quarter hour, half-an-hour, one hour non-stop. The tune changed, the rhythm remained solid. The dancers sweated under the heat.

When the music stopped, they yelled ‘More, more! …’ but it was one hour and Jimo Ladi and his Leopards sat back exhausted. Jagua held her aching hips and went back to the table. She glanced round, but Freddie was not in sight, She sat down with a vague unease. He should have told her before he left; or perhaps he did not want to disturb her dancing. But a wave would have been sufficient. She did not sit long before Number Seven, one of the stewards, came and told her that a man wearing the badge of Freddie’s party, had come in and had called him out ‘urgent’, with some strange message. Freddie had gone alone. Soon after, the five wild ones had rushed out, and ‘I tink he got accident, but I don’ know,’ Number Seven concluded.