Measuring Time by Helon Habila

Author:Helon Habila
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780141918730
Publisher: Penguin Books Ltd
Published: 2008-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

“I know this is all happening too fast for you,” the Waziri said, swiveling around in his leather chair, a benevolent smile on his lips. His bad eye appeared to be staring at a point behind Mamo while the good one was fixed on his face.

“I am afraid I… don’t understand.” Mamo wasn’t sure which eye to focus on. Through the window he could see the guard pacing up and down the veranda outside.

“It is simple. The palace secretary died last month, God rest his soul, and now the Mai has decided to offer you the post—if you want it, that is.”

“But… just like that?”

“Not just like that.” The Waziri smiled. “I persuaded him.”

“I am so surprised. I never…”

“You see, after reading your essay, the Mai said to me, ‘But this young man is too good to be wasted away in a village classroom. Why don’t we bring him here to replace Lanjo?’ and I said, ‘Exactly, Your Highness, let’s do that.’ And so here we are, here you are. And…” The Waziri raised his hand as Mamo opened his mouth to speak. “However…” His hand rose higher. “However, I have a very important task for you. Tell me, will you be willing to write a book on the personal history of the Mai and his ancestors, a royal history?”

“I don’t know…” Mamo began to say, then he stopped, and tried to look confident. “I have a job… my uncle’s school… besides, I don’t know anything about writing a book of history, a biography… and I will need a lot of material, and interviews, and—”

Once more the Waziri raised his hand peremptorily, silencing Mamo. “You see, exactly one year from now the Mai will be celebrating his tenth anniversary. It is going to be a great day in Keti, the greatest day in Keti. Your book will be presented that day; it will be the crowning event of that day. Now, I don’t know how books are written, but after reading your essay I said, if anyone can do it, someone from our village, it is this young man. You have one year to do it. Can you?”

“Well, I have my theory about biographical history… but it is not exactly the same as—” Mamo began, and once more the Waziri raised his hand. “Why don’t you take some time to think it over, talk to your father, or your uncle? I assure you all of them will tell you to do it. Do you have any idea how famous you will be after this book? How old are you?”

“Twenty-eight, almost.”

“Well, think, by this time next year you will be the most famous of all your peers in Keti. The Mai himself will be your patron.” The Waziri had a big smile on his face as he said this, and he looked expectant, as if waiting for Mamo to stand up and genuflect in gratitude.

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