“Good! Good! You people have done a fine job. Mete out the same treatment to all such rebels, so that the other workers will be too scared to strike for higher wages or to take up arms to smash the chains of slavery.
“As for you, from now on I shall no longer call you slaves or servants in public. Now you are truly my friends. Why? Because even after I had given you back the keys to your country, you continued to fulfill my commandments and to protect my property, making my capital yield a higher rate of profit than was the case when I myself used to carry the keys. Therefore I shall not call you servants again. For a servant does not know the aims and thoughts of his master. But I call you my friends because you know—and I shall continue to let you know—all my plans for this country, and I shall give you some of what I acquire, so that you will have the strength and the motivation to break the skulls of those who talk about the ‘masses’ with any measure of seriousness.
“Long live peace, love and unity between me and my local representatives! What is so bad about that? You bite twice and I bite four times. We’ll fool the gullible masses. Long live stability for progress! Long live progress for profit! Long live foreigners and expatriate experts!
2
When the master of ceremonies had finished talking in parables, all the thieves and robbers who had gathered in the cave for the competition stood up and gave him such an ovation that their clapping was like the sound of thunder. Some shouted, “That shoe is a perfect fit for the foot . . . no need for any socks,” while others tugged at one another’s shirts and cuffs and whispered, “Did you hear that? He who has will be given more. . . . The master of ceremonies has told the truth about the unity that exists between us and foreigners. They eat the flesh and we clean up the bones. . . . The dog that has a bone is better off than the empty-handed . . . but make no mistake, it is a bone with a bit of flesh on it. . . . That’s true African socialism . . . Ujamaa wa Asili Kiafrika . . . not like that of Nyerere and his Chinese friends, the socialism of pure envy, the Ujamaa that seeks to prevent a man from holding a bone. . . . We don’t want Chinese ways in our country. We want Christianity. . . .”
The master of ceremonies asked them all to sit down, and the noise and applause subsided. He had a well-fed body: his cheeks were round, like two melons; his eyes were big and red, like two plums; and his neck was huge, like the stem of a baobab tree. His stomach was only slightly larger than his neck. He had two gold teeth in his lower jaw, and, when talking, he opened his lips wide so that the gold teeth could be seen. He had on a silk suit which shone in the light, changing color according to the intensity of the light and the angle of the beam. He offered his audience more details about the competition.
“Every competitor will mount the platform, and he will tell us how he first came to steal and rob and where he has stolen and robbed, and then he will tell us briefly his thoughts on how to perfect our skills in theft and robbery. But even more important, he must show us how we can develop the partnership between us and foreigners so that we can hasten our ascent into the heaven of foreign commodities and other delights. You, the listeners, will act as the judges, so you must clap each speaker to show how inspired you have been by his account of his earthly wiles.
“Now, speaking as chairman of the Ilmorog branch of the Organization for Modern Theft and Robbery, I would like you to note the following. Today’s competition is the whetstone on which to sharpen our fangs and claws to enable us to gnaw at other people’s wealth in unity and peace, for, as you know, a homestead with a whetstone at the gate never had a blunt knife. Therefore, those who lose should not despair. They too should continue to steal and rob, and should learn new tricks from the winners. The wise can also be taught wisdom. The leopard did not know how to kill with his claws until he was taught by the herdsman.
“And now, before I sit down, I shall call upon the leader of the foreign delegation from the International Organization of Thieves and Robbers (IOTR), whose headquarters are in New York, USA, to talk to you. I think you all know that we have already applied to become full members of IOTR. The visit of this delegation, plus the gifts and the crown they have brought us, marks the beginning of an even more fruitful period of co-operation. There are many tricks we can learn from them. We should never be afraid to acknowledge the fact that we don’t know as much as foreigners do, and we should not feel ashamed to drink from foreign fountains of knowledge. Therefore, let’s shower saliva on our breasts by way of asking God to pour blessings on our proceedings!”
The master of ceremonies now called the leader of the foreign delegation of thieves and robbers to the platform to address the crowd of competitors. The ovation accorded to the leader of the foreign delegation as he climbed the steps to the platform was louder than peals of thunder. The master of ceremonies left the platform to the foreign leader. The leader cleared his throat before starting his address.
“An Englishman was the first to say that time is money. We Americans believe the same: time is money. So I shall not waste your time with too much talk. The parable which the master of ceremonies told us contained all the most important points that need to be made.
“We have come from many countries, far and wide: from the USA, England, Germany, France, the Scandinavian countries—Sweden, Norway and Denmark—Italy and Japan. Now, let us pause and ponder about that. Different countries, different tongues, different skin colors, different religions—but one organization with one aim and one faith: theft.
“We have come to you as to our friends, who are also the local watchdogs who guard our investments. So when we are here, we feel very much at home. We have visited many caves and lairs owned by local thieves and robbers, and we are very pleased with the work that you people have done. Despite the fact that you were only very recently initiated into the ways of modern theft and robbery, you seem to have grasped and mastered the essentials very quickly. I think that if you continue along these lines, you will become real experts in modern theft and robbery, just like your counterparts in the Western world.
“What we want to do is to choose seven disciples. They will become the representatives of our representatives, thieves to teach other thieves, robbers to teach other robbers, experts to teach other experts, because, as the master of ceremonies was telling me, as we sat together at that table, you have a saying that there are iron tools that can bore through iron itself. The benefits that will accrue to the seven disciples are these: once they have been crowned, there will not be a single door to the local branches of any of our banks and insurance houses—let’s say, the local branches of all our finance houses—that will ever be barred to them. Anyone who knows anything about modern theft knows very well that it is these financial institutions that govern everything today—industries and all other types of business. It’s these finance houses that dictate the location of this or that industry, the expansion of this or that industry. They dictate ownership and growth—they determine whether an industry will be set up by Kamau or Onyango, whether it will expand or close down. The barons of finance houses are the governing voices in the world today. Money rules the world! These houses are also the only reliable safes in which to deposit the assets that one has grabbed from here and there. It will be the duty of the seven disciples to show other thieves and robbers, and particularly those without experience, the best ways of snatching and grabbing, the best ways of eating, drinking and snoring and the best ways of farting the rich man’s fart, which is said by you people to be without smell.
“Now, before I sit down, I would like to leave you with a few words of wisdom.
“I think there is no one who does not know that theft and robbery are the cornerstones of America and Western civilization. Money is the heart that beats to keep the Western world on the move. If you people want to build a great civilization like ours, then kneel down before the god of money. Ignore the beautiful faces of your children, of your parents, of your brothers and sisters. Look only on the sp
lendid face of money, and you’ll never, never go wrong. It’s far better to drink the blood of your people and to eat their flesh than to retreat a step.
“Why do I tell you all this? Because of our own experience. That is exactly what we have done in America and in Western Europe. When the Red Indians tried to protect their wealth and their property from us, we wiped them out with the sword of fire and with the gun, and we spared only a few, whom we later forced into reservations as a reminder of our history. Even before we had finished with them, we had turned to your own Africa, and we carried away a few million slaves. It is the blood of your people that raised Europe and America to where we now are. Why should I hide that fact from you, seeing that you are now our friends? Today we, the thieves and robbers from America, Western Europe and Japan, are able to roam the whole Earth, grabbing everything—though, of course, we do leave a few fragments for our friends. Why are we able to do this?
“Because our forefathers were not afraid to wallow in the river of the blood of their own workers and peasants and the blood of workers of other countries. Today we believe in the democracy of theft and robbery, the democracy of drinking the blood and eating the flesh of our workers. If you want to be like us, then hang your compassion from trees, and you’ll never be scared of your workers and peasants. But as the master of ceremonies has rightly said, you should first try to hoodwink them with honeyed words and speeches. Now, what image was it that the master of ceremonies used? Oh, yes, you must learn to ‘wrap poison in leaves of sugar.’ But should they turn out to be obstinate, like the bad servant in the parable, who thought himself cleverer than his master, then you must grind them into the dust with hobnailed boots.
“Finally, you should develop the Uhuru of theft, and we shall help you to defend it with all the weapons we have at our disposal. That is my message. Good luck in your proceedings.”
As the leader of the foreign delegation sat down, the whole cave was thrown into confusion as it resounded with shouts and thunderous applause. “The shoe doesn’t need a sock! It doesn’t need a sock! It fits the foot exactly! It is made for that foot! This foreigner really knows how to fit shoes!”
The Hell’s Angels band struck up a tune, while the audience talked and drank. Some slapped one another excitedly on the shoulders, and others kissed their sweethearts on the lips, the nose, the eyes. The tune did not have a lilting rhythm. It was more like a psalm or a hymn. After a few minutes, everybody turned toward the band, and they all started to sing, as if they were in church:
Good news has come
To our country!
Good news has come
About our Savior!
3
Warĩĩnga turned to Gatuĩria and asked him: “Is it possible that people dressed in such expensive suits could be real thieves and robbers?”
“I don’t really know what’s going on,” Gatuĩria replied.
“They are thieves! Of course they are thieves!” Wangarĩ said.
“Modern thieves,” Mũturi added.
“Those foreigners have very red skins,” Warĩĩnga said, turning toward where the seven foreign thieves were sitting.
“Didn’t you hear what their leader said?” Wangarĩ asked, and then she whispered, “It’s because they drink the blood of their children and ours!”
“And because they bathe in it,” Mũturi said. Warĩĩnga, Gatuĩria, Mũturi, Wangarĩ and Mwaũra were sitting at a table at the very back of the cave, so whenever Warĩĩnga wanted to get a better view of the foreigners, she had to crane her neck.
The table occupied by the foreigners was at the front of the cave, to one side of the platform. Right at the front of the platform was a small table with long legs. Each speaker stood behind it. In the right-hand corner of the platform, at the back, was the Hell’s Angels band.
The seat taken by the leader of the foreign delegation was a little higher than the others. On his right sat three foreigners, and on his left the other three. As she stared at them, Warĩĩnga noted that their skins were indeed red, like that of pigs or like the skin of a black person who has been scalded with boiling water or who has burned himself with acid creams. Even the hair on their arms and necks stood out stiff and straight like the bristles of an aging hog. The hair on their heads was brownish, the color of moleskin. It was long, and it fell to their shoulders as if it had never been shaved off or cut since birth. On their heads they wore hats like crowns. Each crown was decorated with seven metal objects shaped like horns, which gleamed so brightly that they almost blinded the eyes. All the crowns looked alike, but the leader’s was a little larger than the others. The tips of the horns were twisted into the initial of the country that each delegate came from.
There were differences in the suits they wore. The one worn by the leader was made of dollars, the Englishman’s of pounds, the German’s of Deutschmarks, the Frenchman’s of francs, the Italian’s of lire, the Scandinavian’s of kroner, and the Japanese delegate’s of yen. Each suit was decorated with several badges, like those worn by scouts. The badges were made of metal and, like neon advertisements, they flashed on and off, illuminating the words that were inscribed on them. Each badge bore one or two slogans, like the following: World Banks; World Commercial Banks; World’s Exploitation Banks; Money-Swallowing Insurance Schemes; Industrial Gobblers of Raw Materials: Cheap Manufactures for Export Abroad; Traders in Human Skins; Loans for a Profit: Aid with Iron Strings; Arms for Murder; Motor-Vehicle Assembly Plants for Vanity Fair at Home & Bigger Profits Abroad; All Products Fair and Lovely to Keep Fools in the Dependent Chains of Slavery; Slave for Comfort, Deal with Me; and many others in similar vein.
The table occupied by Gatuĩria, Warĩĩnga, Mũturi, Wangarĩ and Mwaũra was a little way away from where Mwĩreri wa Mũkiraaĩ was sitting, so they could see only the top of his head. The night before, on their way to Ilmorog, they had all decided to meet at the feast to witness the competition for themselves. It was Mwĩreri wa Mũkiraaĩ who gave them genuine invitation cards, for nobody was to be allowed into the cave without a card. And that was the way it turned out to be. When they had met that Sunday morning at ten, they had found guards at the door, who demanded to see their invitations before allowing them into the cave.
But was it really a cave or a house—the finest of houses?
The floor was smooth, as if it were polished constantly—so smooth, in fact, that if one looked down at the floor, one could see one’s face reflected in it. The ceiling shone with painted cream. Chandeliers like bunches of glassy fruits hung from the ceiling. They were decorated with paper streamers all colors of the rainbow. From the ceiling hung more streamers, together with balloons. The balloons were also of different colors: green, blue, brown, red, white, black, deep brown.
Barmaids moved from table to table, taking orders for drinks. They were all dressed in catsuits of black wool. The suits were form-fitting: they clung to the contours of the girls’ bodies so closely that a distant onlooker might have thought that the girls were naked. On the girls’ bottoms were fixed small white patches shaped like rabbit’s tails. On their breasts were pinned two plastic fruits. Each girl also wore a band around her head on which was written in English: I Love You. The girls looked like apparitions from another world.
Warĩĩnga was drinking whisky and soda. Gatuĩria, Mũturi and Mwaũra chose beer (Tusker), and Wangarĩ ordered a soft drink, Fanta. Gatuĩria and Mũturi paid the bills.
It was certainly a feast. The order of the day was drink your fill; indulge yourself by scattering bank notes about. It was an arrangement that pleased most of the competitors, for now everyone had a chance to display his wealth. When it was their turn, many of the guests would order rounds of drinks in measures that were generous—large bottles of whisky, vodka, brandy and gin, or whole cases of beer for each person. Such people would have bitten their lips in anger had they heard that at the table which they occupied there was someone who was orde
ring hard drink in tots or single bottles of beer. To order single bottles of beer or meager tots of liquor, it was generally agreed, was the drinking style of the wretched.
Many of them had armed themselves with young women—sugar girls—who wore very expensive jewelry, like pearl and ruby necklaces around their necks or silver and gold rings on their fingers. It looked as if the women in the cave had dressed for a fashion parade, for a display of valuable stones. For their girlfriends the men ordered nothing but champagne, bragging: “Let the champagne foam and flow like the Rũirũ River. If we can’t drink it all, we’ll bathe in it.”