By Baba Galleh Jallow
Mr. Chonogi Mbota, veteran politician and activist, slapped the paper on the floor and loudly cursed. “Damn! This guy is so stupid it’s not even funny.” He held his head in his palms and bent down, fixing his exasperated stare on the floor. Just what the hell should he do.
A knock sounded on the door, causing him to jerk his head up and ask, “who is it?”
“Waaji, it’s me.”
He recognized his friend’s voice. He had even forgotten that Sindah had promised to drop by later this evening.
“Come in Waaji, he said. “The door’s not locked.”
Sindah walked in and dropped into a seat. Mr. Mbota sighed and said.
“Waaji, I still don’t know what to do. Did you see what this stupid fool is saying in the papers?”
“Oh yes I saw. But hope that’s not making you change your mind.”
‘I don’t know men,” Mbota said. ‘The very idea is disgusting. I can hear people saying Chonogi Mbota has jumped over and all those journalists would make me headline news. Chonogi Mbota betrays colleagues; Chonogi Mbota this, Chonogi Mbota that. But what else can I do, man? I’m almost sixty and I still cannot even provide enough food for my family.”
“You know, I think you should just go. Do as you planned. Buy some cola nuts, go see Imam Gejjagi Lapatat, and tell him to talk to the man on your behalf. I feel pretty sure he will be happy to have you. It will be another feather in his victory cap. You will be all over the news. And you will soon become a commissioner, a chief or governor. You know how he rewards those who join him. Look at me. I have no worries now.”
“Yeah I know. I just feel that the guy is so damned stupid. I wonder why God makes people like him so powerful. Why God gives them so much power over everybody else. The man is nothing but a buffoon.”
Mr. Mbota shook his head in utter amazement at the inexplicable workings of the world. This man who calls himself a great leader is nothing but a fool of the lowest sort. Yet, see how powerful he is. See how filthy rich he is. The idea of going to beg for acceptance into his party, the idea of swallowing all his former words, deeds and declared principles, was almost unimaginable. Yet, just how on earth could he escape the terrible poverty that weighed down on his head, his shoulders, and his soul, like so many tons of depression?
“I don’t know man,” he said, and clasped his head in his arms again. Mr. Sindah tapped him on the back.
“My brother, listen to me. Those people you fought for all these years don’t give a damn whether your family starves or freezes to death during the cold season. They will stand out there and laugh at you and point fingers at you and say your mother wasn’t a good wife and that’s why you are nothing but a walaakaana. In this world, all that matters is money; not principles; not ideals; money. Most of us realize this only when it’s too late or almost too late. I tell you, this is the right thing for you to do; and this is the right time for you to do it. Jump over, join the man and you will be free of your poverty and misery in no time. And then all those people who are now laughing at you or saying you are a good for nothing will be crawling at your feet tomorrow. I know my brother. I’ve been there, done that, seen that. You will soon forget about all these guilty feelings you now have.”
Chonogi Mbota remained quiet for a while. There was another thing that troubled him. The stars are said to be not too favorable just now.
“I even went to see a fortune teller yesterday. One Malian soothsayer called Keita. Although he did not say so in so many words, he says there might be some trouble with the man. He says there will be no problem with joining but then there’s some darkness on the road.”
“Did he not say that you should take out some charity to dispel the darkness?” Mr. Sindah was certain that every darkness could be dispelled. You just needed to take out the requisite charity. Chonogi Mbota nodded his head.
“Yes, he did say so. But where can I get the money to buy a white goat and a black cow? I can’t even give fish money to my wife on a daily basis.”
“You know what,” Sindah said. “I can help you get the white goat. You can do the black cow after you join. I am sure you will soon get a big job and then buying a black cow shouldn’t be a problem.”
“But Keita says I should take the charity out before doing whatever it is I am planning on doing. I did not tell him about my plans, and that’s why I believe in what he was saying. He said I am thinking of embarking on a journey but that there is some darkness along the road. So he actually saw me very clearly.”
“I am sure we can take out the white goat now and do the black cow later. You need to this Waaji. You are not getting any younger you know, hmmn.”
“I know I know Mboka. You know what? When can we get the goat? You can accompany me to buy cola nuts and go see the Imam tonight. I leave everything in the hands of God.”
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