Wizard of the Crow

“What did I ask you?” the Limping Witch intoned ferociously at Kahiga. In desperation, Kahiga opened the door, quickly dragged Njoya inside without a word, and replaced him outside. With permission granted to answer her question, Njoya now admitted that he and others had picked up the man in a beer hall; he had been drunk, but since then the man had not taken a drop or even set eyes on alcohol. Having just entered the room, A.G. did not know what was going on. He was peeved at what appeared to be Njoya’s attempt to take credit for the man’s apprehension. He had to set the record straight. And without consulting his partner, A.G. plunged into the conversation.

“True! Haki ya Mungu! I am the one who discovered him in the beer hall, and so if you have any questions about him and alcohol ask me, and if you want to confirm the truth of what I am saying, True! Haki ya Mungu, ask… I mean… if the Wizard…”

He was about to reveal the identity of the man when he realized his faux pas, and tried to cover it with exaggerated coughing, until the witch angrily intervened.

“Stop or else you will contract his illness. One victim of the evil is enough for a day. My walking stick has divined its source and will tell me all…”

A.G. stopped coughing, only too glad to obey, as the Limping Witch now turned her attention to the patient.

“You, listen to me with both your ears,” she said, jabbing the man’s throat with her stick. “I want to speak to the Devil hiding in your voice box.” Kamltl forced himself to look intently at the eyes of the witch, and he thought he saw or imagined he saw her wink. But the runny eyes and the twitching lips repulsed him. Still, he listened to her intonation.

The body is the temple of the soul

Watch -ye what you eat ana drink

Greed maketh death greedy for life

Cigarettes arrest life; alcohol holds mind prisoner

The good comes from balance…

She went on through the entire catechism, with him now almost suspended in wonder and disbelief.

“Now I have ordered the Devil in you to speak to me through you,” said the Limping Witch. “Speak, Devil!”

“IF!” Kamltl barked tentatively, as if challenging her to clear his doubts.

“It is you…” the Limping Witch responded, as if accepting the challenge.

“And I…” he said, and stopped.

“Who were…” said the Limping Witch.

“In the prairie…” Kamltl said, then paused.

“Dancing…” the witch replied.

“Naked…” said Kamltl, to shock her.

“Under the moonlight, the way witches do…” she said, as if to imply that he had failed to shock her.

“Then lead me out of this prison of IF… OH… IF… IF ONLY…” Kamltl said, the Devil inside him begging for release, seduced as he now was by the allure of the Limping Witch.

She turned her eyes to A.G. and Njoya, who were mesmerized by the miracle they had just witnessed. This Limping Witch had done what no other sorcerer, despite their spears, knives, needles, razor blades, and threats, had been able to do: extract a word other than if from the patient. She had managed to put the fear of the Lord in the mean Devil lodged in his voice box. They now eagerly waited to hear what the Limping Witch had to say. “If I am to get more out of him, you must bring him to my shrine, from which my medicines derive their potency. Do so whenever it suits you.”

Njoya and A.G. conferred in a corner. A.G. then left the room. Kahiga now entered. When A.G. returned, he did not stay outside but came right in.

“We have been told to go to your shrine right now,” A.G. told the Limping Witch. “You must fully cure him without delay. Then we shall bring you and him back here.”

Kamltl could not believe his ears. All his doubts about the witch had vanished. Nyawlra has effected a miracle, he said to himself, and it was with difficulty that he held back tears of joy, gratitude, and admiration.

24

The Limping Witch refused to travel by Land Rover.

“Oh, so we are not going far?” asked the three policemen in unison.

“Not very far,” she said. “Over there,” she added, pointing to the horizon.

“Yonder where the earth meets the sky?” asked Njoya.

“Yes,” said the Limping Witch.

“But that is a long way from here,” said Kahiga.

“It is never a long way to a person’s home,” she said. “My power comes from my contact with this soil,” she added, prodding the ground with her walking stick. “I never allow anything to come between me and Mother Earth. Why don’t you go ahead? If you get there before I do, just wait for me.”

“Oh, no,” the police trio said in unison.

“Our orders are that our eyes must not at any time stray away from you,” added A.G.

“When not on foot, what carries you from here to there?” Njoya asked.

“A mkokoteni. A donkey cart. Anything pulled by a living being with feet touching the earth.”

“You want us to travel on human- and donkey-pulled carriages?” asked the police trio in unison.

“Donkey carts and mkokoteni are difficult to find at this time of the day” added Njoya.

For a response she simply pointed at the writing on her garments: shauri yako. My problem? Njoya seemed to ask himself but ignored the insolence.

A.G. guarded the Limping Witch and the “prisoner” while Kahiga and Njoya went in the Land Rover to look for the carriages.

They had not gone very far when they saw a donkey cart and a human-pushed mkokoteni, both full of goods, but they decided to hire the carriages.

The Limping Witch now demanded that she and Kamltl ride in the mkokoteni while Njoya, Kahiga, and A.G. rode in the donkey cart with the Land Rover following in the rear, gas fumes being very bad for the spirits of magic. The convoy of mkokoteni, donkey cart, and Land Rover crept along, slowing down traffic, as the drivers of other vehicles honked with impatience and frustration at its snail’s pace. Above, in the sky, helicopters monitoring the procession of protesting youth pouring into the grounds of the Parliament buildings made for noise and commotion.

Just then a Mercedes-Benz rushed toward them from the opposite direction, the driver ordering the donkey to stop, which halted the entire convoy. It was Kaniuru. Thereafter, nothing but chaos ensued. The Limping Witch immediately ordered the two mkokoteni drivers to take off, which they did as if possessed of wings. In pursuit of the mkokoteni, the donkey cart threw off Kahiga, Njoya, and A.G. The Land Rover picked up Kahiga. Njoya commandeered a bicycle and A.G. followed on foot, running, calling on Njoya to let him get on the bike.

The mkokoteni had the advantage of being able to weave in and out of traffic; the Mercedes-Benz had trouble pursuing it down the narrow two-lane road. The donkey cart blocked the Land Rover. Pedestrians on the sidewalks wondered why a Mercedes-Benz was pursuing and honking at a pushcart, a donkey braying at a Mercedes-Benz while defecating, a Land Rover honking at the donkey cart, a cyclist ringing bells at the Land Rover, and a policeman running and shouting, Simama! They could not figure out whether he was saying stop or calling out to somebody by that name. A.G. was the first casualty of the chase. He stepped in donkey dung, slipped, and fell, passersby describing it as a mighty fall.

The speeding mkokoteni went past the railway, crossing just in time before the red barrier came down and blocked the Mercedes-Benz. “Run for it to Maritha and Mariko’s place,” the Limping Witch told the Wizard of the Crow. “Don’t ask any questions. We’ll talk later.”