Taduno's Song (3 page)

‘How many were they?' Taduno asked, with a faint smile.

‘There were four in all.
Anti
Lela was screaming for help, but nobody went to help her, everybody was afraid.'

‘What kind of clothes were the men wearing?'

‘I don't know. Normal clothes, I think. They had guns and they waved their badges.'

‘Did they say where they were taking her?'

‘No, they didn't say. They didn't talk to anyone, they just waved their badges. Then they got into their car and drove off leaving so much dust in the air.'

‘Did your parents witness the incident?'

‘No, they were inside the house. By the time they came running out, the men were gone and only the dust remained.'

He realised that it was pointless questioning Lela's parents as their story would likely be similar to Judah's.

He nodded in thanks and slapped Judah playfully on the back. ‘I'll find your sister,' he said, looking into the boy's eyes. ‘You can go back to your game.'

‘Promise?' the boy said, in an eager voice.

‘Yes, I promise.'

They shook hands, and in that moment they both felt something – like the rekindling of an old friendship.

*

He spent the rest of the day deliberating on how to begin his search for Lela. He struck off one idea after the other, until he came to the conclusion that the best place to start was a police station.

At first, the prospect of visiting a police station terrified him; but, encouraged by the knowledge that he no longer had an identity, he took a taxi to the nearest station where he found the sergeant on duty dozing at his desk with a half-eaten cob of corn in one hand.

The tiny office reeked of a terrible odour – a mixture of decayed food, saliva, sweat, urine, morbid fear and stale cigarettes. In spite of the fact that he had been in several police stations before, Taduno felt himself choking.

He rapped a gentle knuckle on the counter.

The Sergeant jumped in his seat and the cob of corn in his hand fell to the floor, disappearing under his desk. Quickly, he picked up his worn beret from his battered desk and slapped it on his head to dignify himself with an air of authority. Then he smiled – a friendly sheepish smile that revealed uneven brown teeth.

‘Good afternoon, Sergeant Bello,' Taduno greeted, reading the name tag on the Sergeant's chest.

‘Afternoon,' the Sergeant replied. ‘How may I help you? In what way may I help you? And what help do you need?'

Taduno was not surprised at the rambling manner of the Sergeant's questions. He was familiar with the ways of policemen, and he knew you must also respond to them in a roundabout way to get results. Or else, they will turn you round and around until they get you so confused you end up confessing to a crime you never committed. And then they will lock you up with a satisfied grin. And when you bribe them, they become your friend. But they tell you that you are still a criminal all the same, and that
they are friends of criminals. And they remind you, in their own parlance, ‘Police is your friend.'

Taduno laughed to himself. ‘Oh yes, you may help me. But before you help me, I think you should know that I want to help you too. And in the end you'll be helping me to help you.'

The Sergeant looked quite impressed by the response of the well-dressed man standing before him – no doubt, a respectable gentleman wise in the ways of the police. He nodded vigorously, a look of satisfaction on his round oily face.

‘I agree with you. How may we proceed?'

The smile remained on Taduno's face. ‘Before we proceed you may want to pick up your corn. I think it must be somewhere under your desk.'

‘True!' The Sergeant bent down and retrieved his corn. He blew on it, then he kept it away on the far end of his desk, to be dealt with later. He turned his attention back to Taduno. ‘Yes, we may proceed.' He had a business-like air about him now.

Leaning against the counter, Taduno cleared his throat quietly. ‘As I was saying, I need you to help me help you. And after you have helped me I will help you.'

‘That makes a lot of sense to me,' the Sergeant beamed, rubbing his hands together. ‘Please continue.'

Taduno hesitated for a moment then cleared his throat again. ‘I'd like to know what happened to a certain Miss Lela Olaro. She was arrested a couple of weeks ago by government agents.'

Sergeant Bello scratched his head and pretended to
think for several moments. Then he nodded his head slowly, as if it was all coming back to him in a trickle.

‘You remember?' Taduno asked eagerly.

‘Hmm,' the Sergeant grunted. ‘Actually, I'm trying to remember. It is not so easy to remember, you know.'

‘Yes, yes, I know. That's why I need you to help me help you. After you have helped me I will help you. Can you tell me what happened to her, please?'

Sergeant Bello scratched his head some more. ‘Was she arrested or kidnapped?' he demanded gruffly.

The question caught Taduno by surprise. He thought very quickly, then he asked: ‘You tell me, was she arrested or kidnapped?'

Sergeant Bello hesitated.

Taduno pressed. ‘I'm only asking so that you'll help me to help you, nothing more.' He turned on a foolish smile.

‘True, true, I understand, my brother. I need plenty of help actually. Things are very difficult at home.'

‘So?'

‘She was kidnapped by the government,' the Sergeant said in a whisper, looking furtively around to make sure none of his colleagues was approaching. ‘They only tried to make it look like an arrest.'

Taduno did not show his surprise. ‘I would think that government agents arrest people, not kidnap them?'

‘You'd be surprised,' the Sergeant chuckled.

‘Where was she taken? Why was she kidnapped?'

The Sergeant's face hardened. ‘I've helped you enough to help me!' he hissed.

Taduno slipped a 500-naira note across the counter and left the station quietly.

*

Rather than take a taxi, he decided to walk home. He covered the six-kilometre distance in two hours without paying any attention to the bustling city life that raced past him. He arrived home tired and consumed by fear for the woman he loved.

Aroli was sitting on his doorstep waiting for him, glancing through an old paper in a distracted manner. He rose to his feet when he saw Taduno approaching.

None of his other neighbours paid him any attention. They busied themselves with their evening chores, their curiosity about him having died since he re-emerged into the world. As far as they were concerned, he was now one of them, having shown that he could survive seven whole days without seeing sunlight and without running mad or hurting himself.

‘I haven't seen you around all day,' Aroli said, after they had exchanged greetings.

‘I went out to attend to an urgent matter.'

‘I see.' Aroli sounded curious.

Taduno fiddled in his pocket for his keys and opened the door. ‘Please come in.' Somehow he managed not to show just how troubled he was.

‘Wow!' Aroli exclaimed the moment he stepped into the house. ‘Looks like you've been doing a lot of cleaning. The place is spotless!'

‘It took me seven days to achieve,' Taduno said.

‘Was that why you locked yourself away?'

‘Not really. Yes, I did a lot of cleaning, but it was more a time of soul-searching for me.'

‘I see.'

‘Take a seat, please.'

They sat opposite each other.

‘You said you went out to attend to an urgent matter?'

‘Yes, I have been trying to follow Lela's trail.'

Aroli sat up. ‘What have you discovered?'

Taduno hesitated.

‘You can trust me,' Aroli assured him.

‘Lela was not arrested. She was kidnapped.'

‘Kidnapped by who?' Aroli asked, a frown on his face.

‘By the government.'

Aroli's jaw dropped. ‘Where did you get that information?'

‘From a certain sergeant in a certain police station,' he replied, not keen to reveal his source.

‘I don't understand. Why would the government kidnap Lela?' Aroli scratched his head.

‘I asked myself the same question, and the answer is not so pleasant.'

‘Which is?'

‘Security agents arrest you if you are believed to have committed an offence. But if the government sees you as a threat, they kidnap you.'

Aroli scratched his head some more, slowly, his brain ticking loudly. ‘That means Lela must be in grave danger.'

‘You get the picture.'

They fell into silence.

‘What are you going to do?' Aroli asked, at last.

‘I intend to find her.' Taduno's voice was grim with determination.

Aroli shut his eyes tightly, as if trying to erase a bad memory, perhaps a reality too difficult to accept. ‘I don't know how to put this,' he began, uncertainly.

‘Put what?' Taduno raised his brows in question.

‘You showed up claiming to be somebody we know. We all see you as a man who has lost his identity – in fact, a man who has lost his mind. But I have been worried since that first morning, and my mind tells me something is not quite right.'

Taduno remained silent.

Aroli continued. ‘You know too much about us to be a stranger, too much to be a man who has lost his mind.'

‘What are you driving at?'

‘I'm worried that it could be the rest of us who have lost our minds. I'm worried that a man who has lost his mind cannot be as sane as you are. You know so much about us, yet we know nothing about you. Is it possible that we are the ones who have forgotten the past? Honestly, I suspect that this could be the case.

‘Tell me about your life. I mean the life you used to live before we forgot you. I need to know about you. I need to know so that I can remember all that I have forgotten.' Aroli was beginning to sound desperate.

Taduno sighed, touched by Aroli's candour. ‘At first the life I lived was simple. But then things changed and it became complex.' He shook his head. ‘It's not something I can talk about now.'

Aroli nodded his understanding. He rose to leave. The look of confusion on his face deepened; a look that wanted answers to so many questions. In a quiet voice he said, ‘I'm prepared to help you find Lela, if you need my help.'

Taduno reasoned that it would do him no harm to take Aroli into his confidence. ‘I intend to go to the police station again tomorrow,' he said. ‘You can come with me if you are not busy.'

Aroli agreed to go with him.

FOUR

The following morning they took a yellow taxi to the police station. The taxi had been recently repainted, and it wasn't until they got into the back seat that they realised that the taxi was repainted to attract passengers. It looked very clean on the outside, but on the inside it was battered and smelled of damp.

It was too late for them to climb out by the time they discovered the ruse, so they made themselves as comfortable as possible on the torn leather seat which Taduno suspected was lice-infested. And as the taxi drove them to the police station, he filled Aroli in about his encounter the previous day with Sergeant Bello.

‘He could be the key to finding Lela,' he concluded. ‘He knows something, but I doubt if he would want to share what he knows with us at the police station. He was not comfortable talking to me yesterday.'

‘What do you suggest?'

‘I suggest we meet him on neutral ground.'

‘Makes sense to me,' Aroli agreed.

‘But we must be careful the way we approach him. Policemen can be very difficult people.'

‘I get you.'

They made the rest of the journey in silence.

Luck was on their side. They found Sergeant Bello alone in the office, dozing; a man with nothing meaningful to do, with no time for anything meaningful. The sound of approaching footsteps woke him out of his reverie, and he put on a smile and his worn beret, which he hurriedly picked up from his battered desk.

‘Good afternoon, Sarge,' Taduno greeted. ‘Remember me?'

‘Ah, good afternoon! Of course, I remember you! How can I forget my friend?' The Sergeant smiled expansively.

Taduno smiled back. ‘Friends are meant to remember friends, not forget them. I'm glad you remember me!'

For a moment the Sergeant's face hardened. ‘Who's this?' he asked, pointing at Aroli.

‘Oh, this is my very good friend, Aroli. Together we want to help you to help us. You know it's better for two to help one than for one to help one.' Taduno laughed merrily to dispel the Sergeant's fear.

‘I see what you mean!' The Sergeant laughed too.

Aroli joined in the laughter. And together they all laughed merrily, like three idiots.

‘So?' Sergeant Bello asked, when their laughter had died down.

‘Yeah, we're thinking . . . we're thinking you should have dinner with us tonight somewhere nice.'

‘Oh no, no, no!' Sergeant Bello shook his head. ‘Dinner sounds okay to me, but not anywhere nice. I'm not used to nice. Nice is a mere waste of money.'

‘In that case we could go somewhere not so nice and not so bad.' Taduno demonstrated with his hands, that smile of an idiot still on his face. ‘How about that?'

Sergeant Bello nodded with satisfaction. ‘That sounds better. I'll be off duty by six. Just remember, nowhere nice. I don't like nice. I don't like nice at all!'

The three of them laughed loudly. And as Taduno and Aroli made to leave, Sergeant Bello stretched out his hand. ‘You are forgetting something,' he said, in a frosty voice.

Taduno slipped a 500-naira note into his hand.

The Sergeant kept his hand outstretched. ‘“It's better for two to help one.” Those were your words.'

Taduno shrugged and added another 500-naira note.

*

Their rendezvous was an open-air restaurant situated along a canal that carried half the city's dirt. The restaurant was poorly lit, and it was certainly not nice, but not so bad by Sergeant Bello's standard.