Read Online Xala by Ousmane Sembène - Free Book Online Page B

chased away a bee buzzing around his glass. Rama leaned over to him and with her index finger signalled him to draw nearer. Her elbow was resting on the table, her forearm vertical and her hand dangling free.
    â€˜What’s the matter?’ asked Pathé.
    She looked the doctor straight in the eyes.
    â€˜What’s the matter? My father’s xala is the matter,’ she replied straightening herself.
    â€˜How did you find out?’
    Hadn’t she seen her father leaving the hospital? This confirmed what she had heard. Without taking her eyes off him, a narrow smile wrinkling the corners of her mouth into a look of mockery, she leaned over to him as before.
    â€˜Father came to see me and as I am a facc-katt he said to me: “Rama, my dear child, I am impotent”.’
    â€˜How, did you find out?’
    â€˜So you know about it toot?’
    Taken by surprise, Pathé could only splutter.
    â€˜I saw father leaving the hospital,’ she said. ‘The. whole of Dakar knows about the wedding and they also know about this other business now.’
    â€˜It’s true your father came to consult the registrar. But what does your mother say about it?’
    â€˜Lovely man, do you really have any intelligence? My mother? She’s just an “antique”. Didn’t she accept the second wife?’
    â€˜And your father?’
    She showed him the cheek he had struck.
    â€˜The last time I saw my father I received his hand here. Here. And it was on his wedding day.’
    â€˜A well deserved present!’
    â€˜You’re intelligent, lovely man. For your punishment I want another coca-cola.’
    Pathé called the waiter and ordered a second drink.
    â€˜It’s on my mother’s account that I feel so angry about it. She’s eaten up with guilt. When we’re married I’ll do everything I can to see she gets a divorce and comes to live with us.’
    A cool breeze laden with iodine blew in from the sea.

    The xala was all they could talk about and Rama could only think of her mother
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    â€˜What should I do?’ The mother’s question shook like a bell in her head. Rama thought about her conversation with Pathé. Perhaps there was a medical solution for her father’s condition. It seemed doubtful though. But she did not know the reason for her doubt. She would have liked to answer her mother encouragingly, for her sake, to give her a little hope. But what if it turned out not to be true? If an excess of kindness born of affection were to raise her hopes too high, like the yeast the dough, her disappointment would be all the greater and her sense of having been let down all the more painful.
    She looked at her mother. The woman’s eyes reflected her complete confusion. She passed the book from one hand to the other. Her palms were damp with sweat.
    â€˜There is nothing you can do, mother.’
    Rama had chosen her words very carefully. She wanted to help her recover her calm.
    â€˜I can’t even go out. People stare at me like...’
    The rest of her words were drowned in a smothered sob.
    â€˜Did you cause this xala, mother?’
    Was it that her heart had become cold and dry? Or was it an expression of sterile tenderness? Rama could not decide which it was. She kept her eyes on her mother. Adja Awa Astou’s thin face lengthened towards her chin. The oblique slits of her eyes narrowed, silvery specks the size of pinheads shone in her left eye. Her lower lip trembled slackly for a moment. Then she said:
    â€˜I swear by Yalla that it is not me.’
    â€˜Why then? Do you feel you are to blame?’
    â€˜Simply because I am his wife, the awa . In such cases the first wife is always blamed.’
    â€˜You should have spoken to father about it during your aye .’
    â€˜I can’t talk to him about such things.’
    â€˜Would you like me to talk to him?’
    â€˜You have no modesty!’ exclaimed