Taduno's Song (20 page)

After Aroli and Vulcaniser had gone, Thaddeus came over to hug him before retiring to bed. ‘Good night and good luck, my friend,' he said.

Taduno waited until loud snoring filled the square. He listened to the snorers as he had always listened to them. He smiled as he listened to them. He knew he was going to miss them dearly. For one last time, he imagined them as they were before they became homeless. He hoped that they would remember him by his performance that night and not by the ones that would follow.

*

He was ready to retire to his far end of the square when he saw a squat figure walking slowly towards him. He did not need to squint into the night to know it was TK. He dropped his head with a deep sigh and remained like that until the approaching man sat next to him. Somehow, he sensed it was time to say goodbye.

‘I see you have discovered your voice at last,' TK said.

Only then did Taduno raise his head to look at TK. He looked so different without his Afro. In fact, according to Thaddeus, he looked as if he was no longer of this world. A cold hand clutched Taduno's heart.

‘Yes, I'm ready to sing again.'

‘And I suppose your priority is to save Lela.'

‘Yes,' he replied, sadness in his voice.

A moment of silence passed between them.

‘Don't do it, Taduno. Please don't do it,' TK pleaded in a low voice. ‘Don't praise the tyrant with your music.'

‘I have no choice.'

‘Yes, you have a choice.'

‘No, I have none. As long as they have Lela I have no choice. I must save her, and the only way is to praise the regime with my music. If I don't, they will kill her.'

‘They can only kill her once,' TK said patiently. ‘But if you praise the regime with your music you will be signing the death warrant of millions of people.' He paused. ‘Which do you prefer?'

Taduno did not answer. Instead, he said, ‘I have signed a contract with Mr Player. I'm reporting to the studio in the morning.'

‘So there is no going back?'

‘TK, please understand. There is no other way.'

‘There is always another way.'

‘Which way?' Taduno turned to look at him.

‘The way of a miracle. A miracle could happen – just as it has happened for Aroli, after all these years.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘He has struck a big property deal and can now retire to his dream job.'

‘How did you know?' Taduno could not hide his surprise.

‘A deal like that is too big to be done quietly. It is all over the papers. It is almost as big as a miracle can be.'

They fell into silence again.

TK spoke after a lengthy interval. ‘So you see, there's always the possibility of a miracle. But you must show faith to receive it.'

Not knowing what to say, Taduno told TK about Sergeant Bello. ‘It looks like the man has lost his sight,' he said. ‘They told me he will face the death sentence.'

‘That's another reason why you should not praise the tyrant with your music. If you do, you will be endorsing Sergeant Bello's fate. And you will turn yourself into one of his persecutors. We must not select those to save and those to condemn to death in the fight against tyranny. We must learn to say “no” to tyrants no matter how much they hurt us. That is the only way tyranny can be defeated.'

Taduno remained silent.

TK continued. ‘This is the last time we will meet. My parting message to you is show some faith. A miracle will come.' With those words TK rose to his feet and walked away.

Taduno could not stop him, or even call out to him. He felt very sad as he watched him leave.

*

He no longer wanted to sleep at the square that night, so he returned home. As he opened his door, he noticed a stained brown envelope on the doormat. He noticed that the stains on the envelope were much heavier than on the envelopes he had received in the past. His heart pounded as he bent down to pick it up. He opened the
letter as soon as he entered the house. And he read it eagerly, standing in the middle of the living room.

His heart ached for Lela by the time he finished reading knowing that he must revoke his contract with Mr Player. He got drunk in the upper room, with his hit songs of yesteryear echoing in his mind. And he slept on the bare floor, amongst sad and silent shadows.

TWENTY-SIX

Morning came quickly. Taduno shook off his hangover with two more drinks, without a song in his soul, and then his mind became very clear, and he remembered that he had taken the decision to condemn Lela to her fate.

He could no longer sing for love and no longer had the strength to sing against tyranny. And now that he was free of all responsibilities and worries, he saw only one future ahead of him – a life at the square beside his dear friend Thaddeus.

He had always known it, that there was something about him and Thaddeus – something that linked them together. He imagined the public snorers, and he realised that it was inevitable that his own snoring would one day complement theirs in the grand symphony of their sad songs. Now he was set to make a different kind of music – one that would denounce love.

*

He packed everything he could possibly need. He packed some clothes and shoes for Thaddeus too. He packed his cooking pots and plates and spoons. He almost forgot his old coffee mugs! He would need those to drink coffee with Thaddeus while they sit together and try to count the stars beneath the night sky of the square. Who knows, they might be able to achieve the feat together one day. He felt a tingle of excitement.

The President can go to hell now, Mr Player too, and all the villains who drive dreamers to the square. He no longer had to worry about them or anyone else. In fact, he no longer had to worry about himself.

He had just finished packing the last bag when Aroli came knocking, as loud as ever. He wasn't startled; he had passed the point where anything or anyone could startle him. He would soon be lost among the homeless men at the square and not even the President would ever be able to find him again. He would forget Aroli, Vulcaniser and Judah. Only memories of Lela would remain, and it would be those memories that would confine him to the square.

‘You are sweating,' Aroli said, as he walked in.

‘Yes, I am sweating,' he replied, going up the stairs to his bedroom.

Aroli followed him, and he was shocked when he saw all the bags on the floor. ‘What are these?' he asked.

‘My bags,' he replied. ‘I'm leaving.'

Aroli could not believe his ears. ‘You're leaving?'

‘Yes.'

‘Leaving to where?'

‘To TBS. I'm going to join my friend Thaddeus and the rest. I'm going to live with them.'

Aroli frowned. ‘Let's get this straight. Since when did Thaddeus become a friend you want to go and live with?'

‘What I mean is I'm no longer going to praise the regime with my music. I will let Lela die, and I'm going to live at the square for ever where the dictator or anyone can never find me again. I will be a free man at the square, without worries or responsibilities.'

Aroli was lost for what to say. He stared hard at the floor, and when he looked up and opened his mouth to speak, he knew it was pointless. Taduno had made up his mind. Nothing he said would change anything. He wished he could take the place of his friend, and bear the pain he must now bear for the rest of his life. He wished he could do something to change things, but he knew he was powerless to do anything.

They held each other in a long embrace, each trying to hide his tears. Then Aroli helped him to get his bags outside where the people of that street soon gathered. ‘What is happening?' ‘Where are you going?' ‘Are you leaving us?' They asked many questions but got no answer in return, just silence. Vulcaniser was the only one who did not say a word; he just stood there, gazing into space.

After they brought out the last bag, Taduno flagged down a taxi. Vulcaniser and Aroli loaded his bags into the taxi. And as the taxi drove him away, Aroli and all the rest of his neighbours broke down and wept in the street.

Judah was not there to see him leave.

*

He had Lela's last letter in his breast pocket. He cradled his guitar to his chest in the back seat of the yellow taxi. It was too early for him to show up at the square, so he told the driver to drive aimlessly around the city for a while. The man complied with a smile, grateful for the privilege to drive Taduno around the city. He would never tire to tell his grandchildren of the day he drove the greatest musician around Lagos.

‘Sir, is there anything you particularly want to see?' the driver asked, studying the face of his famous fare in the rear-view mirror.

‘Yes, one last time I want to see the city as it truly is because I might never get the opportunity to do so again,' he replied, trying to sound cheerful.

‘Oh, I see. Are you going away somewhere?'

‘Yes, I'm going away. I'm going where no one can ever find me.'

‘What about your music? What'll happen to your music?'

‘Truly, I don't know. I don't know what will happen to my music.' There was a slight trembling in his voice.

The driver did not know what to say. He fixed his eyes intently on the road, afraid that he could lose his way in the city he had lived in all his life.

*

Taduno saw the city again as he saw it before, through the words of his songs. He saw the infernal struggles of the
people, which by far outweighed their greatest rewards. He saw their fear and pain and the hopelessness that drove them on, round the clock. And as he saw these things, he knew he must not condemn them further by praising tyranny with his song. He must let Lela die, and for that he must live at the square for the rest of his life.

For him, the square would become a purgatory. But it wouldn't be so bad a place. He would have Thaddeus for company, and they would busy themselves counting stars every night and drinking coffee in his old mugs. As the time inched past seven, he leaned forward and tapped the driver gently on the shoulder.

‘You may head for TBS now,' he said in a quiet voice.

*

They welcomed him with open arms at the square, and they assigned him a special sleeping place amongst them. Thaddeus helped him to settle in. Taduno unpacked his things and gave Thaddeus the clothes and shoes he brought him.

‘Thank you,' Thaddeus said.

He bought food from a roadside restaurant, and all of them, about fifty in number, ate as a family. The grace was said by Thaddeus, and the ‘amen' that followed was quiet and humbling. They ate thoughtfully, and when they finished they spent some time belching their satisfaction. Then they thanked Taduno for his kindness. They didn't want to burden him by requesting him to play them his music, but of course life at the square would be more
interesting with music. He understood; he was a very understanding man. So, without any prompting he picked up his guitar and they all gathered around him. And as the first strains of his song filtered into the night, their oily lips parted in faint smiles. Life wasn't so bad at the square after all!

But how long will the good time last? This question tugged at each one of them.

*

When the rest had gone to bed, he and Thaddeus made themselves coffee in the old mugs, and they sat on a bench with their faces gazing up at the night sky with its millions of brilliant stars.

‘How many stars do you think are up there?' he asked Thaddeus.

‘At the last count I hit two million five hundred and sixty, and I'm still counting!' Thaddeus replied proudly.

‘Oh boy!' he whistled. ‘I have some catching up to do seeing as I have to start from one.'

‘I started from one too, and see where I am today! All you have to do is start and you will be surprised how rapid your progress will be. Don't worry, I will be here to guide you, to encourage you.'

Taduno nodded thankfully.

They sat back. Taduno started counting from one; Thaddeus continued from where he had stopped.

*

He had never known the real meaning of ‘drifting' before. But he came to understand it as Thaddeus showed him round the following day. By daytime the square was a completely different place, with countless tourists coming and going. To his surprise, the section of the square which they made their home was off-limits to the tourists. The men worked in shifts to patrol its precincts, making sure no intruder came into their domain.

They were an organised and principled bunch. They stole from no one and no one stole from them. When not on patrol duty, each was free to take the day off to drift around the city and do any menial job they could find.

Thaddeus showed him the extent of the square, which was far bigger than he previously thought. They walked amongst the tourists, with tattered fedoras covering their faces, ensuring their anonymity. He did not carry his guitar with him. Thaddeus assured him that it was safe in his new home.

They ate breakfast and then lunch at bustling roadside restaurants, and they spent the rest of the day generally roaming the square. It was a different kind of experience for him. Tiring maybe, but this was his life now, and he told himself he must get used to it.

He did not bother to look out for TK. He knew he had lost him for ever. He believed him when he said they would never meet again. No doubt, he would miss TK terribly, but, gratefully, Thaddeus was proving to be a very good friend.