I see Bongo walking up to the soldiers as the village settles around them.
Bongo offers a hand in greeting. He says something to the soldiers, too faint for anyone else to hear. The soldiers nod. Bongo points toward Woja Beki’s house. The soldiers nod again and smile. I can’t conceive what Bongo could be saying to make the soldiers smile, or how he could will himself to say something smile-worthy to them after what the government has done to Papa. It also makes no sense to me why the rest of the fathers and uncles and grandfathers and older brothers are smiling. I look at my friends, and they all appear as baffled as I am, though, gradually, the looks on our faces change to smiles—nothing seems wiser for us to do in the moment than to join in the smiling. A smile that does not originate from my heart hurts my mouth, but I know I must join in and do my part. We had been taught to do this in school, to follow the leader, and being that Bongo is our leader in that moment, the sides of our lips rise as if pulled up by strings from the sky. Everyone in the square is likely thinking along the same lines, because soon all of Kosawa is smiling alongside the inaudible conversation. Perhaps a few of the smiles are real, but I doubt it—all around me teeth are exposed but eyes are wide open.
Consumed by upholding our grins, we don’t wonder what the next step in the game might be until we look to our right and see Woja Beki walking toward the square, two of the young men who had dragged him to Lusaka’s hut on the night of the village meeting on either side of him. Woja Beki is smiling, the young men are smiling as their steps lock with his, Bongo’s smile broadens, the soldiers smile on, everyone acting cheerful for reasons no one knows except those who started this lethal game.
—
“Our dear soldiers,” Woja Beki calls out as he hurries toward the front. “I’m so sorry to keep you waiting.”
The soldier with the piglike cheeks shrugs and keeps on smiling.
“How can I waste the time of important men whose jobs don’t allow them even two minutes to spare?” Woja Beki continues. “I’m truly sorry, my dear soldiers. I was visiting a friend, and before I knew it I fell asleep in his house. Fortunately, these fine young men woke me up. They tell me that you’ve come looking for the Pexton men? Is it true what I’m hearing, that they haven’t been seen since they left our village?”
Both of the soldiers nod.
“I’m shocked to hear this. How can it be possible, when they left three days ago? This is absolutely unbelievable. I can’t…I’m just…I have no words. None of this makes any sense. Please, let’s go to my house so we can talk about it,” he says, as he gestures in the direction of his house. “I’m glad my people have been keeping you company, but it’ll be better if we can speak in private, don’t you think?”
The soldiers nod again and turn around to follow Woja Beki.
“If you don’t mind, my dear soldiers, I’m going to bring along these three young men to serve as witnesses to everything I say,” Woja Beki says, as he gestures at Bongo and the two men who just escorted him to the square. “You must understand, a man in my position needs witnesses before he opens his mouth, lest his words be distorted.”
The soldiers look at each other and shrug again, which makes me wonder if they’ve been sent to do nothing but nod and shrug. Looking at them and their air of nonchalance, I realize the men of Kosawa were not unwise to leave their weapons at home—there’ll be no need for spears and machetes in today’s proceedings. The soldiers have guns, holstered on their right hips, but they look nothing like men who possess any knowledge of, or interest in, pulling out the guns, never mind using them on us.
We remain standing in the square as Woja Beki and the five men walk away. Woja Beki’s voice is vibrant as he unleashes words he hasn’t had a chance to use in days, speaking so fast his sentences have no pause between them. “My shock is so great dear soldiers but we’ll sit down and my wives will make us a good meal and we’ll put our heads together and try to figure out where the men could be because there’s no way men can vanish going from one place to another and I can tell you that in all my years I’ve heard no such story and believe me when I tell you that I’ve heard every sort of story there is to hear and my people standing over there will swear that the men got into their car with their driver and left after the meeting and the men said they were going home and I woke up the next morning and pictured them eating the breakfast their wives had prepared for them before going to their offices but you’ve come here to tell me that no one has seen them since that day and I can never understand how it’s even possible….”
After the group disappears behind a hut to take the path that leads to Woja Beki’s house, my friends and I turn to each other, befuddled. What is Woja Beki doing here? Why is he speaking on our behalf? Is he no longer our enemy?
I look at our men.
