‘Lord receive my soul!’ Kekere swore, noisily slapping her skirt. ‘Me? What could I possibly do to him?’
The six women sensed a mystery. Of course no one mentioned the word poison. Where each woman sought the husband’s affection, a love potion might be given with good intentions.
Soft hands found the husband’s armpits . . . wrapped round his knees . . . around his waist . . . Sweet breaths were in-drawn and the aroma of delicate perfume filled the air . . . and as feminine silk rustled, the seven wives, now burdened with the snoring husband, bore him as lightly as they might into the bedroom.
‘You’d all better go and change your clothes,’ said the fat woman, the Number One wife, taking charge. ‘I’ll watch over him.’
12
‘It’s all my fault,’ Bayo said. He trudged beside Sango on their way to the left luggage shed where Sango’s things were kept. He was in such a state that he followed Sango wherever he went, trying to get a word in about his love affair. ‘Sango, the girl Suad warned me all the time to be quick and marry her. She warned me. Truly, she did; but I was unable to marry her. No money. I kept postponing. And now, Sango. Can you believe it? What she said is coming true! Her brother wants to fly her back to Syria. But is that really possible? Just because the poor girl is in love with me?’
‘When is the flight?’
‘On Monday! Today is Saturday. What can I do? Too late! Oh Lord. My dear, loving Suad Zamil. She has cried so much! Her brother said he’d disown her if she so much as mentions my name again in his ears. She doesn’t care. Goes on calling Bayo, all the time.’
Sango found his box and now fumbling for his keys, opened it and began to remove an old script. He took out the clothes he wanted and together they went to a gents’ near by to change.
‘Sango, you mean this is where you actually keep your things? You haven’t found a place? Of course the room of First Trumpet is too small to contain both your things. But this is awful. I’m very sorry. Where do you practise with your band? How can a man live like this?’
Sango said not a word. He was gradually changing his clothes, and Bayo was still talking. ‘They’re keeping her away from me. Muhamad Zamil is watching over her with a loaded revolver. He doesn’t let her out of his sight. Beatrice is no longer there. If she had been there, I could have some excuse of visiting the place. I’m very worried, Sango.’
‘How did this matter leak out in the first place?’
‘I can’t tell you the whole story, Sango. But I suspect Beatrice has something to do with it. You remember Zamil took her to “wife”. Well, jealousy can do a lot, you know. And revenge too. You see, it was Beatrice who introduced Suad Zamil to me and we fell in love. She became jealous because the girl liked me at once. Of course we used to meet in her room and she was kind to us. But I never once suspected she would betray us. You see, she and Suad quarrelled. Suad did not like the idea of her brother merely keeping an African woman, and yet she was in love with me! I can’t understand it all, Sango. It’s complicated. But anyway, Zamil knows now, and is guarding her. This thing has gone to high quarters.’ Bayo wrung his hands.
‘Have you been to the Welfare Office? Tell them you want to marry the girl; that the girl is old enough to decide things for herself, but her guardian will not let her do her will.’
‘I’ve been there!’ Bayo said furiously. ‘Red tape was against me. They even said they were closing for the holidays. By the time they re-open the girl would be safely home!’ He flung his cigarette-butt on to the lavatory floor. That gesture of despair touched Sango. A man came in and they went out on to the station platform. Idly, Sango and Bayo watched a shunting engine. When you lived near a railway station the noise of the engines ceased to sound in your ears.
‘Why not go away on a train?’ Sango suggested. ‘Take the girl and run away. It’s romantic! Don’t laugh, people do it. At least, you’ll leave Zamil alone to look after his shop; and when he cools off, you come back. After all, the girl has her own life to lead. And if you’re the man she’s chosen, you must see she is happy.’
Bayo’s condition was pitiful to see. Dull were his shoes, wrinkled his tie; and the hair of this erstwhile dapper youngster was for once uncombed. Was this the same Bayo who trifled with women’s hearts? So terrified of everything that might hurt Suad Zamil? Bayo who was usually so confident in such affairs?
‘Just think of Zamil,’ he went on bitterly. ‘How many girls does he “marry” in a year? I know of Beatrice. Now he’s taken another – a half-caste called Sybil. But she’s not so new; they were “husband” and “wife” long before he met Beatrice. She has two daughters for him. Zamil makes Suad unhappy by all this and she wants him to settle down. He pays the girls good money if they are virgins. Then he throws them away after his curiosity has been satisfied. What future have girls like Sybil and Beatrice? What decent man will ever take them into their own homes and keep them? Yet, just think! It is this same Zamil who must hold Suad from me! It is he who must guard her morals . . .’
‘When last did you see Suad?’
‘Before I went to that waking . . . you remember? When Lajide’s wife died.’
‘That
’s about two months ago. How then has this thing suddenly flared up? Okay, Bayo! If they’re taking her away from you, we must make one last effort to see her. We’re going there – this night, Bayo!’
‘She told me to get a special licence. I went to the magistrate and he insisted on seeing her in person. There can be no marriage without a bride, or someone to give the bride away! One thing, Sango! I do not want to make this girl suffer for my sake. I love her too much. Please do not come with me tonight. It’s too dangerous for two people.’
‘I’ll come, Bayo. I want to see this girl Suad. Do you realize I’ve heard so much about her, yet do not know the future bride of my best friend?’
They walked on through the city, wrapped in this problem. Round and round they talked on the same topic: how wrong-doing is a hill, and how one mounts this hill and descries that of another: Zamil and Suad, Bayo and Beatrice, Sango and Aina. . . . And as Sango kept his eyes open for the notice ROOM TO LET, he was thinking how different life would soon be. Associate Editor, West African Sensation: but then he remembered the way Beatrice the Second had said ‘I have a fiancé in England . . . I love him very much’.
He began to walk faster.
•
A little after midnight, two figures crept into the garden at 163B Clifford Street West. Lights were still on in the main building. From one of the rooms, the radio was blaring forth Arabian music.
‘Which one is her room, Bayo?’
‘We can’t get in . . . it’s at the back.’