Visitants by Randolph Stow

Author:Randolph Stow [Stow, Randolph]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: CLASSIC FICTION
ISBN: 9781922253088
Publisher: The Text Publishing Company
Published: 2015-07-14T16:00:00+00:00

BENONI

All the afternoon they sat on chairs at a table under a big tree, and on the grass in front of them the people of the village talked and smoked and chewed. Between them they had the old census book. When Misa Dolu’udi called out the names from the old book, people got up and came and talked with Misa Kodo. Then Misa Kodo wrote their names in the new book.

Towards the end of the afternoon Misa Dolu’udi called the names of a family of eight people. But only one old woman came forward, in a rough grass skirt and with soot on her body and her head shaved. She squatted in front of the table, hiding her face.

‘What’s this?’ Misa Dolu’udi said, not understanding. And he called out all the names again, more loudly, and with each name the old woman’s head sank lower, till her face was on the ground and she was crying into the grass.

Then Misa Kodo, who had been writing in the new book, looked up and understood. He called me to him, and whispered: ‘What has happened, Benoni? Two years ago there were eight people in this family. Where are they now?’

‘Her husband has died, taubada,’ I said, ‘one month ago. Her first son was killed falling from a palm. His wife went to a new husband in Obomatu and took the child. Her second and third sons were drowned in their canoe. The second son’s wife went back to her mother. Now there is only the old woman.’

Misa Kodo went on looking and looking at the old woman hiding her face. At last he said: ‘Old woman, go now. Our shame, we two.’

The old woman tried to say something kind to him, because she was a good-natured old woman, but she could not speak for crying, and stumbled away.

‘Just the mother, is it?’ Misa Dolu’udi said, and he crossed out the other names.

‘Just the mother,’ Misa Kodo said, and he wrote the old woman’s name all alone in the new book as a family.

When the census was finished, Misa Kodo sat back in his chair and looked at me. ‘Who cares for that old woman?’ he said. ‘Who gardens for her? Who mends her roof?’

‘I do not know, taubada,’ I said.

‘No?’ he said. ‘And yet you will command all the villages, you say.’

‘Perhaps,’ I said.

‘Is she hungry?’ he said. ‘Does her roof leak? Do you know?’

‘No,’ I said. ‘I do not know.’

‘I am tired,’ Misa Kodo said, rubbing his forehead. ‘Ah, Benoni, there are many people in the world whose minds are heavy. Many, many. What shall we do? Shall we cry? Shall we go mad? What will you do when you are commander?’

‘I do not know, taubada,’ I said. ‘But I will not cry or go mad. I will be hard, like a Dimdim.’

‘E, be hard,’ he said. ‘Have a hard mind, like a bush pig. Be like me. Benoni, do you know the story of Jesus?’

‘A little,’ I said. ‘Not much.

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