The Second Death of Goodluck Tinubu (24 page)

After the meal Wilmon said to Joy, “You look tired, Joy. Are you
well?”

She laughed. “It is Kubu’s fault. He is always making me work
and giving me a hard time.” They all laughed except Wilmon. Kubu’s
chuckle was a little forced.

Wilmon looked serious. “When we go home, I will give you some
leaves for making tea. It will make you calm and help you sleep. It
is quite harmless. Even Kubu and Ilia can have some.” A glimmer of
a smile lit up his wrinkled face.

Wilmon had the reputation in Mochudi of being someone you could
trust for
muti
or herbal medicines. He was not a witch
doctor, but knew and understood what local plants offered for
dealing with a variety of human ailments. Rather than an
incantation, Wilmon usually attached a silent prayer to each vial
he dispensed – a Christian prayer, of course.

Then Amantle turned the spotlight on Pleasant’s unacceptable
marital status, as Kubu and Joy had warned Pleasant she would.
Amantle’s interrogation began slowly and gently with questions
about Pleasant’s work at the travel agency, how her brother Sampson
was faring in Francistown, and whether he was married yet. When
Amantle realized that he was in his early thirties and still
single, she gave Pleasant a lecture on how distressed her parents
would have been had they been alive. Pleasant solemnly agreed that
Sampson was shirking his responsibilities and promised to have a
word with him. Joy sat back, enjoying that this Sunday she was not
being interrogated.

Wilmon, sensing Pleasant’s discomfort, voiced his approval of
Sampson’s government position. “He will receive a good
pension.”

“But who will he share it with?” Amantle demanded, determined
not to let the initiative slip. Wilmon lapsed back into silence,
unable to respond to this challenge.

Amantle then leaned forward and took Pleasant’s hand.

“My dear, you are nearly thirty,” she said in a scandalized
tone. “Soon the only people who will look at you will be dry old
men who already have children. Soon you will be too old to bear
your own children.”

“Mma Bengu,” Pleasant replied. “I thank you for your concern,
but I’m happy at the moment. I’d like to be married and have
children, but I haven’t met someone yet who I want as my
husband.”

“A man does not like a woman who works,” Amantle said. “He
thinks he will look more important and successful if his wife stays
at home. Actually, he is afraid that his wife will earn enough
money to do what she wants. Then he cannot tell her what to do.
That will make him feel bad. You should give up your job and find a
man. When you marry, you can go back to work.”

“Mma Bengu, you are wise,” Pleasant replied. “But how will I
live if no one wants me? I have to work.”

Joy thought it was time to support her sister. “Pleasant is
seeing a very fine man. He is a professor at the university. Very
clever and famous. His work is known by people all over the
world.”

“Why does he not ask you to marry him?” Amantle asked. “He must
be blind not to want such a beautiful girl as you.”

“I don’t think I’m clever enough for him.”

“What nonsense! How can a professor be so stupid? Can he not see
you will carry children well? Kubu, you must speak to him!”

“Mother, times have changed,” said Kubu, alamed by this turn of
events. “Today’s young people think differently from you and
Father. They do what they want.”

“We know that, Kubu!” Amantle interjected. “Your father and I
nearly gave up on you ever getting married. You were lucky to meet
a sensible woman like Joy. I know she had to take charge. You were
so blind with your police work.” Amantle turned back to Pleasant.
“Tell me about this professor. I am sure I can help you open his
eyes.”

Wilmon had been thinking the matter through. “Perhaps the
problem is the
lobola
. Maybe he does not have enough cattle
to pay a proper bride price. And it is hard to negotiate because
your father is not alive.” He scratched his head, willing memories
to surface. “I recall that it was necessary to talk to two of your
uncles to resolve the matter when you and Kubu married. I sorted it
out quite easily, though. I wrote them a fine letter – Kubu helped
me – and then my brothers and I went to Francistown to visit them.
They are fair men, and we discussed all the issues, and when it was
all agreed we had a drink on it.” This was such an unusual
occurrence for Wilmon that he thought it worth mentioning.

Pleasant had been ready for Amantle’s questioning but Wilmon’s
suggestion caught her by surprise. “Rra Bengu, Bongani is a fine
man from a good Batswana family. I think he just needs some time.
He’s very busy with his career. He has studied at the university in
Gaborone and in America. He’s very clever. He works with computers
and satellites.”

“How can he be clever if he does not see your wide hips and
happy smile?” Amantle interjected.

“Remember that time when the Botswana Cattle and Mining Company
had so many problems?” Pleasant asked, ignoring Amantle’s question.
“Bongani helped Kubu solve that case. He used his satellite to find
a Land Rover in the desert. Doesn’t that prove he’s clever?”

“I do not understand these things, so I do not know if he is
clever. But I do know he is stupid! Kubu, you must tell him to ask
Pleasant to marry him, and your father will help you sort out the
lobola
.”

“Mother,” Kubu said, “you always know what is best. I’ll see him
this week and give him your message. I’m sure he’ll agree
immediately!”

“Thank you, Mma Bengu,” Pleasant said quietly. “I miss my family
every day, so it’s wonderful to have a second mother looking after
me.” Pleasant seemed genuinely touched by the old couple’s concern,
but Kubu and Joy were having difficulty keeping their faces
straight. It seemed prudent to pack up and drive back to Wilmon and
Amantle’s small house for tea.

♦

Amantle made tea while Wilmon went to his little garden behind
the house to pick the ingredients for Joy’s
muti
. Ilia was
not sure whether to stay on the veranda and hope for crumbs from
the Marie biscuits that Amantle would inevitably serve, or to
accompany Wilmon to the garden where she knew she would have her
ears rubbed and tummy tickled. Having been spoiled at the picnic,
she opted for the latter and trotted off to be with the old
man.

By the time Wilmon reappeared with a small brown packet, tea was
ready. Remembering that his parents had only four chairs, Kubu said
that he was tired of sitting and would stand. Everyone then
insisted that they had been sitting for much too long. So the five
people stood around the four empty chairs. Ilia was pleased because
they had trouble controlling the cups, saucers, and Marie biscuits
simultaneously. She accepted several dropped biscuit pieces with
enthusiasm. After tea, Kubu, Joy, and Pleasant said their farewells
and started for Gaborone.

As they drove off, they dissolved into laughter. Ilia was
puzzled and broke her usual habit of sleeping on the way home to
jump around the car, licking faces. Eventually the humans
sobered.

“What wonderful parents you have,” Pleasant said to Kubu.
“They’ve such dignity and concern for other people. You’re so lucky
to have them. You’re their pride and joy.”

“I’m lucky indeed. They’ve always been good to me.”

The three sat in silence as Kubu threaded his way back into
Gaborone through the myriad of taxis, animals, and pedestrians.

“Look after my sister,” Pleasant said to Kubu as they dropped
her off at her apartment. “You never know if those thugs may turn
up again.”

“She’s going to stay at home for a few days with a police guard.
They won’t dare to try something. They know I’ll rip them
apart.”

Pleasant patted Ilia and hugged Joy. As Kubu and Joy drove off,
she waved after them. Feeling a little lonely, she started up the
stairs to enjoy a quiet evening at home.

∨
The Second Death of Goodluck Tinubu
∧

O
n Monday morning,
Kubu waited at home until Edison arrived with Constable Mashu,
taking advantage of the opportunity to have a proper breakfast and
two cups of coffee. Joy was annoyed to be treated as a liability
and irritated with Kubu. On the previous night he had insisted on
sitting up to guard her in the bedroom with his police pistol. A
bottle of Allesverloren vintage port kept him company. The result
had been that he snored in the armchair all night, keeping her
awake. She appreciated his commitment, but not his macho approach,
and certainly not his execution. Having him in bed with her would
have been much better.

“Kubu, I’m not staying at home all day. I’ve things to do. And
I’m having lunch with Pleasant. This whole business is ridiculous.
I can look after myself. And I have Ilia.” The dog wagged her tail
in agreement, perhaps suggesting a reward would not go amiss.

“Joy, my darling, I have work to do and won’t be able to do
anything if I think you’re in any danger. I know you can look after
yourself. You proved that very convincingly. But we have to track
down these bastards! Please humor me.” He grasped for a straw.
“Edison is very good at Scrabble. Perhaps you can play. Make them
some coffee.”

“Scrabble doesn’t have enough M or K letters to play properly in
Setswana,” Joy replied grumpily.

Edison and Mashu sat quietly waiting for the domestic ripples to
subside. They looked at each other and nodded. All men have such
problems with their wives.

“I’ll phone Pleasant and explain that you’re staying at home,”
Kubu said. “Why not make a nice lunch here and introduce her to
Mashu?”

“You know she’s quite involved with Bongani,” she snapped.
However, she did give Mashu an appraising look. He was well built
and had a wide, cheerful face lit by a ready smile. Pleasant might
like to meet him. She wondered if she had enough mutton neck to do
a curry.

“I’ll phone her myself,” she said.

But Pleasant wasn’t at work, nor was there any answer at home.
When Joy tried her mobile phone, she heard a voice that she
recognized at once. The voice with the foreign accent. Suddenly a
sweetish acrid smell seemed to fill the room. She had to throw up.
She gave the phone to Kubu and rushed to the sink.

“Hello, this is Assistant Superintendent Bengu. Who am I talking
to?”

The others couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, but
they could see Kubu’s face tighten and his fists clench. Then they
could hear the dial tone. Kubu carefully replaced the receiver.

“They have Pleasant,” he said at last. “They have the nerve to
threaten my family and kidnap my sister-in-law! These pigs will rot
in jail and then rot in hell. And hell will be a relief for them.”
Joy had never seen him so angry.

“Did you speak to her? Is she all right? What will you do?”

“The pig said she’s fine. But he is lying vermin! They’ll wish
they were dead when I get my hands on them.”

“Yes, but what about Pleasant? What about her? Can you give them
what they want? You can catch them afterward.”

“I don’t know what the shits want! They talk in riddles. Look,
I’ve got to get to the office. We’ll search every house in Gaborone
if necessary! Every house! From top to bottom. Who the hell do they
think they are?”

Joy spoke very calmly although her pulse was racing and nausea
building up again.

“Kubu, I need to help you with this. I’ll come with you to the
CID. I’ll be absolutely safe there. You can’t leave me here to play
Scrabble. Besides, I know how Pleasant thinks. That’ll help
you.”

Kubu was not listening: “Darling, I’ve explained already. I must
know you’re safe, or I’ll be distracted. I promise you that
Pleasant will be free and with us this evening for supper. I’ll
phone you every hour, and you can give us any information you can
think of. Don’t worry. It’ll be all right. I promise.” Joy started
to reply but he was already halfway through the door, shouting
instructions to Edison.

♦

After Kubu had left, Joy sat involved with her own thoughts.
Edison and Mashu kept a low profile, speaking softly to each other.
After about ten minutes, Joy got up and seemed more cheerful.

“Did you boys have a proper breakfast? Kubu had bacon and
scrambled eggs and
mielie
meal porridge. It’s important to
start the day with a proper meal.” Mashu was a bachelor and
admitted that his breakfast had been bread and jam in the police
car. Edison thought he saw a way of distracting Joy and said he was
ravenous. A proper, cooked breakfast would be wonderful.

Joy started at once. There was still porridge in the pot, which
she reheated and gave to them in big plates with milk and salt. She
even managed a small joke. “Kubu will smell this and be home
shortly,” she said. “You’ll see!” The two men laughed as they
spooned their porridge. She put on toast and started the coffee
percolator. Then she began to whip the carefully cracked eggs,
adding milk. “You have to use milk,” she told them. They were not
disposed to argue. Ilia sat waiting, hopeful for some bacon
fat.

When the men were faced with a plate heaped with scrambled eggs,
well-done bacon, fried tomatoes, and toast, she said, “Now you
enjoy that after all my work!”

“Aren’t you going to join us?” asked Edison.

Joy shook her head. “I ate with Kubu,” she lied. “I’m going to
have a hot relaxing bath, and I’ll feel much better. There’s more
coffee on the stove. Oh, and you can play Scrabble if you get
bored. It’s in the living room.” The men joined her laughter.

“But you shouldn’t be alone,” said Mashu. “Kubu, I mean the
Assistant Superintendent, said one of us was to be with you all the
time…” He trailed off in response to Joy’s look.

“Even when I’m in the bath? I’m not sure the Assistant
Superintendent had that in mind at all!” She laughed. “The bathroom
is just across the passage. You can watch the door from here.
Okay?” The men gratefully returned to the delicious breakfast. Ilia
gave a sharp bark to remind them of her presence. They heard the
bath fill.