wild animals—’
‘What do you know of sacrifice?’ Wambui interrupted, joining in the laughter.
‘Oh, we did sacrifice – and ate the meat afterwards. We prayed twice a day and an extra one before any expedition to wrest arms from European farms. We stood up facing Mount Kenya:
‘Mwenanyaga we pray that you may protect our hideouts.
Mwenanyaga we pray that you may hold a soft cloud over us.
Mwenanyaga we pray that you may defend us behind and in front from our enemies.
Mwenanyaga we pray that you may give us courage in our hearts.
Thai thathaiya Ngai, Thaai.
‘We also sang:
‘We shall never rest
Without land,
Without Freedom true
Kenya is a country of black people.’
Everybody had stopped talking and listened to Koina’s singing. And the plaintive note below his words was at odds with his apparent mirth. There was a sudden, almost an uneasy silence. None of this is real … I’ll soon wake up from the dream … My hut will be empty and I’ll find myself alone as I have always been … Gikonyo coughed, dryly. Warui burst in.
‘Cold? I always say this. The young of these days have lost their strength. They cannot resist a tiny illness. Do you know in our days we would lie in the forest nights long waiting for Masai? The wind rubbed our necks. As for our clothes, they were drenched with dew. Yet you would not hear a cough in the morning. No, not even a small one.’
The two freedom fighters looked at Warui. They had been in the forest for more than seven years. But nobody challenged Warui’s claim.
‘What is a prayer?’ General R. suddenly asked, as if continuing theprevious conversation. ‘It did not help Kihika. Kihika believed in prayer. He even read the Bible every day, and took it with him wherever he went. What I never understand is this: Why is it that God would not whisper a word – just one word – to warn him not to walk into a trap?’
‘A trap?’ Gikonyo asked quickly. ‘Do you want to tell us that Kihika was betrayed?’
‘The radio said he was captured in a battle in which many of his men were killed,’ Wambui said.
General R. took his time to satisfy this awakened interest. He stared at the ground in absorption.
‘On that day he was going to meet somebody. He often went out alone to spy or to finish off a dangerous character like DO Robson. Yet he always told me about his plans. On this day, he told me nothing. He seemed very excited, you might say almost happy. But he grew angry whenever anybody interrupted him. Again, he never forgot to take his Bible. But on this day he left it behind. Perhaps he never meant to be long.’
General R. fumbled in his pockets and took out a small Bible which he passed on to Gikonyo. Warui and Wambui craned forward, excited by this, like little children. Gikonyo shuffled through the small Bible lingering on verses underlined in black and red. His fingers were slightly shaking. He stopped at Psalm 72, where two verses were underlined in red.
‘What are these red lines?’ Wambui asked, with awed curiosity.
‘Read a few lines,’ Warui said.
Gikonyo read:
‘He shall judge the poor of the people, he shall save the children of the needy, and shall break in pieces the oppressor.
For he shall deliver the needy when he cometh; the poor also and he that hath no helper.’
Again this was followed by a profound silence. Then General R. continued.
‘Actually Kihika was never the same person after the day he shot DO Robson. And that’s why we have come here tonight.’ All thistime, General R. had stared in one spot. And he spoke quietly, choosing words as if he was directing questions at his own heart. Now he suddenly raised his eyes to Mugo. And every other person’s eyes were turned to Mugo.
‘I believe you were the man who sheltered Kihika on that night. That is why you were later arrested and sent to detention, is that not so? What we want to know is this. Did Kihika mention to you that he would be meeting somebody from the
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley