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Authors: Beverley Naidoo
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they pushed me –’ She broke off, fighting tears.
Mugo saw Karanja’s eyes become wet and angry. Karanja’s father worked for the Public Works Department and, when little, Karanja used to boast that his father had built all the roads and that was why there were so many cars.
Baba helped his sister up and led her inside the house. They sat down on wooden stools, facing each other, with the two boys standing beside them.
‘Where did they take him? What did they say?’ Baba probed.
‘They wouldn’t tell us!’ Karanja blurted. ‘Anyone can say you are Mau Mau and those thugs take you away. But my mother has more to tell you.’
Baba’s sister drew her fingers like claws down her cheeks, not looking at Baba.
‘Brother… The police asked for my son Maina… and for your son Gitau.’
‘What?’ Baba rumbled.
‘Our sons were not here so they could not take them.’
‘Have you news? Where are they?’ Baba demanded.
Sour air invaded Mugo’s lungs.
‘We think they have gone with the others, uncle.’ Karanja lowered his voice as if the walls might have ears. ‘It’s better to join the Muhimu in the forests than to let those torturing devils take you away! People say they beat you until you confess. They can kill you even if you know nothing! It’s better to fight!’ Mugo had never heard Karanja talk like this before. It was as if his tongue was on fire!
‘I hear what you say, Karanja. But war is not porridge. It does not feed you,’ Baba said tersely. ‘The way you are talking, the police will come for you next! What do they teach you in school? Use your head!’
Karanja fell silent, but Mugo saw his clenched fists. His school in the location was not like the expensive government boarding school attended by Maina and Gitau, where lessons were in English. It was run by Kikuyu people, who had built a schoolroom and who could only afford a teacher who had reached Standard Two. As well as learning to read, the children learned Kikuyu songs and customs. The government had already shut down some Kikuyu schools because it said that the children were learning to be Mau Mau.
Baba turned back to Karanja’s mother. ‘This isnot a good place for you, sister. It will be better for you to go to your husband’s people in the village until he returns.’
‘No, brother, the wazungu have forced too many people to the village. How shall we eat there? Here I can earn a few shillings in town.’ She was reviving. ‘Karanja will also find work and –’
‘Let the boys get us something while we talk,’ Baba interrupted. He drew a few coins from his pocket and handed them to Karanja. ‘Take Mugo and get potatoes, cabbage and beans. I want to taste your mother’s irio before we leave.’ It was obvious that Baba wanted to talk to his sister in private.
Karanja complained the moment they were outside in the alley. ‘Your father treats me like a child. Doesn’t he know things are changing? If he’s not careful, he’ll get a pain in his back!’
‘What kind of pain?’ asked Mugo, although he knew exactly what Karanja meant.
‘That bwana of yours keeps you stupid, doesn’t he?’ Karanja jibed. ‘Did the Muhimu not visit you?’
‘Ndio! They visited some time ago but we haven’t seen them again.’ Mugo hoped Karanja wouldn’t question him further. He felt sure that Karanja must have taken the Muhimu oath. It would be too embarrassing to confess his own story.
‘How do you know they haven’t returned?’ Karanja challenged. ‘They have their eyes everywhere. As I said, your father should watch what he says.’
At once Mugo felt defensive. Karanja was going too far.
‘Don’t get the wrong idea, Karanja. Baba wants us to have our land and our freedom from the wazungu, just like the Muhimu!’
‘Then he should not say to me “War is not porridge.” Does he not know that we are at war? If someone doesn’t want to fight for our
ithaka na wiyathi
, is that person not a traitor?’
Mugo
Mugo saw Karanja’s eyes become wet and angry. Karanja’s father worked for the Public Works Department and, when little, Karanja used to boast that his father had built all the roads and that was why there were so many cars.
Baba helped his sister up and led her inside the house. They sat down on wooden stools, facing each other, with the two boys standing beside them.
‘Where did they take him? What did they say?’ Baba probed.
‘They wouldn’t tell us!’ Karanja blurted. ‘Anyone can say you are Mau Mau and those thugs take you away. But my mother has more to tell you.’
Baba’s sister drew her fingers like claws down her cheeks, not looking at Baba.
‘Brother… The police asked for my son Maina… and for your son Gitau.’
‘What?’ Baba rumbled.
‘Our sons were not here so they could not take them.’
‘Have you news? Where are they?’ Baba demanded.
Sour air invaded Mugo’s lungs.
‘We think they have gone with the others, uncle.’ Karanja lowered his voice as if the walls might have ears. ‘It’s better to join the Muhimu in the forests than to let those torturing devils take you away! People say they beat you until you confess. They can kill you even if you know nothing! It’s better to fight!’ Mugo had never heard Karanja talk like this before. It was as if his tongue was on fire!
‘I hear what you say, Karanja. But war is not porridge. It does not feed you,’ Baba said tersely. ‘The way you are talking, the police will come for you next! What do they teach you in school? Use your head!’
Karanja fell silent, but Mugo saw his clenched fists. His school in the location was not like the expensive government boarding school attended by Maina and Gitau, where lessons were in English. It was run by Kikuyu people, who had built a schoolroom and who could only afford a teacher who had reached Standard Two. As well as learning to read, the children learned Kikuyu songs and customs. The government had already shut down some Kikuyu schools because it said that the children were learning to be Mau Mau.
Baba turned back to Karanja’s mother. ‘This isnot a good place for you, sister. It will be better for you to go to your husband’s people in the village until he returns.’
‘No, brother, the wazungu have forced too many people to the village. How shall we eat there? Here I can earn a few shillings in town.’ She was reviving. ‘Karanja will also find work and –’
‘Let the boys get us something while we talk,’ Baba interrupted. He drew a few coins from his pocket and handed them to Karanja. ‘Take Mugo and get potatoes, cabbage and beans. I want to taste your mother’s irio before we leave.’ It was obvious that Baba wanted to talk to his sister in private.
Karanja complained the moment they were outside in the alley. ‘Your father treats me like a child. Doesn’t he know things are changing? If he’s not careful, he’ll get a pain in his back!’
‘What kind of pain?’ asked Mugo, although he knew exactly what Karanja meant.
‘That bwana of yours keeps you stupid, doesn’t he?’ Karanja jibed. ‘Did the Muhimu not visit you?’
‘Ndio! They visited some time ago but we haven’t seen them again.’ Mugo hoped Karanja wouldn’t question him further. He felt sure that Karanja must have taken the Muhimu oath. It would be too embarrassing to confess his own story.
‘How do you know they haven’t returned?’ Karanja challenged. ‘They have their eyes everywhere. As I said, your father should watch what he says.’
At once Mugo felt defensive. Karanja was going too far.
‘Don’t get the wrong idea, Karanja. Baba wants us to have our land and our freedom from the wazungu, just like the Muhimu!’
‘Then he should not say to me “War is not porridge.” Does he not know that we are at war? If someone doesn’t want to fight for our
ithaka na wiyathi
, is that person not a traitor?’
Mugo
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