Excerpt of Disciples of Fortune
The car had its final breakdown less
than two hundred yards from Nana Njike's home. Hans watched his father
curiously as he pulled it to the side of the road and then winced and stretched
his body.
“Son, we are almost home, we are
virtually home,” Nana Njike announced in a raucous voice. “Cheer up, Son! It
turned out to be one hell of a ride.”
“You are right.”
“Come on, Son! I am sure you also
enjoyed it, in a way.”
“The journey was memorable,” Hans told
his father, making an effort to sound cheerful.
“Now, let’s get our things out and
stretch our legs for the short walk home. Besides, hasn’t it always been the
tradition to discover home on foot?”
Hans laughed despite himself. “Okay.
Let’s get on with it,” he said and opened the front passenger door.
They were taking out the last baggage
from the trunk when half a dozen villagers who had recognized Nana Njike even
though he and Hans were heavily covered with dust, approached the car, and
greeted him. Then they greeted Hans too. Hans observed his father’s affability
as he chatted with his people and found the extraordinary warmth of his
personality intriguing.
He had never seen Nana Njike laugh in
such a light-hearted manner and never thought he could be so dramatic in his
expressions. His father was with his people and felt at home as a natural man
of his soul. None of the men inquired about Hans, something that was a bit of a
surprise to him. However, the father and son were aware of the questioning
looks on their faces. At length, one of the men called over two of his sons who
were scratching their heads and bellies not far away
and then ordered the boys in an equally dramatic manner to carry the
bags and suitcases to Nana Njike’s home. The brothers grabbed them and scurried
away, laughing at their father who carried his game further with a mock kick at
them.
Nana Njike chatted awhile with the men
before bidding them goodbye. Hans thought he looked rejuvenated as they
continued the walk home. When he learned that his father invited the men over
for a drink later that evening, he was not surprised at all.
Two grown boys and a plump motherly
figure met them on the veranda of the Njike home. She led the way and hugged
her husband before turning to Hans.
“Is this my son?” she asked in German,
beaming with a warm smile.
“Yes, Mami Njike! He is our son,” Nana
Njike affirmed and beckoned Hans forward.
Then Mami Njike did something strange.
She took Hans in her arms for a firm embrace and kissed him several times on
the cheeks before concluding it with a big kiss very close to his lips. Some of
the villagers who had ventured close to the house stared wide-eyed and
open-mouthed at the scene in front of their eyes. It was unheard of for a woman
to welcome a stranger in such a close manner, let alone kiss him in front of
her husband.
Youmba, a diehard Bamileké
traditionalist, even thought it could be an abomination, but wondered whether
something like that had ever happened before in Banganté or elsewhere in the
Bamilekéland. At length, he shrugged and turned to his friend. His people were
not the kissing types after all, and he considered kissing a strange value
brought home by people from The Coast. The fact that Nana Njike whom he
respected so much was accepting something like that in front of everyone
puzzled him. Youmba finally made up his mind to find out about the stranger who
could have been mistaken for a white man, wondering what he was doing in the
home of their patron.
Hans discovered his stepmother, his half-brothers,
and his half-sisters that afternoon. They ran him a bath, so that when he rejoined the rest of the family in the
sitting room later that evening, he was looking refreshed and in better
spirits.
Mami Njike, born Sarah Kitchongeu
Noutcha-Njomou and called Mami Alyisha by her neighbors and friends, a
mispronounced form of Mami Eliza, was plump and tall,
and she wielded an uncommon authority about her that amazed Hans. Her round
jovial face reminded him of the good mothers in fairy tales. With her well-accentuated
mouth, her light complexion, a slightly broad nose, and her soft and beautiful
eyes that were almost hypnotic, she looked more Mongoloid than African. Someone
even said to her face that her beauty and light complexion were the attributes
that swept Nana Njike off his feet to make her his wife. Had the rumormongers
known of her peculiar wits, charming nature, and the outstanding depth of her
character, they would have thought otherwise. She was busy warming the evening
meal. The aroma of roasted pork emanating from the kitchen told Hans in an
instant that Nana Njike had a hand in the arrangements. His father had thought
of a better way to welcome his son with strong German bearings and an unusual
appetite for pork by giving him a taste of it on his first day at his new home.
Solomon Eichmann-Nkabyo Njike was her
first son and child. He was quite tall for his twenty years of contact with the
sun and walked around with a steely grace that caught Hans’s eyes. His mother
had somehow succeeded to rub off some of her light complexion and the shape of
her nose on him. He was broad-shouldered too, with a handsome face and pouty
lips that gave him a dignified look. Besides his regal walk, he talked with a
persuasive authority that Hans found alluring. His cleft chin and broad nose made
him look handsome in a slightly feminine way. His eyes in particular showed a
great deal of resemblance to Nana Njike’s. They were charming, yet hard and
shrewd-like.
Philip Nemafou Njike was her second
child and son. He was the type most people found alluring at first sight. He
was almost as tall as his older brother, was almost as dark and handsome as his
father and inherited his mother’s high cheekbones. Even though he did not
possess that authoritative force discernible in his elder brother, he kept up
to his height with his subtle and graceful manners. He was the child who bore a
great resemblance to his father the most and commanded substantial praise from
Nana Njike’s friends. Inclined to cleverness and wanton ambitions in later
life, he was already a class ahead of his older brother and was performing
splendidly in school. He had most of the quietness and intelligent looks of his
great father but lacked the force to buttress those qualities. He was eighteen
years old.
Mami Njike’s third child was a girl.
She was four years younger than Philip. Hans noticed her sitting on her favorite
Bamileké spider stool at the left corner of the sitting room staring at him
with curious eyes. She had introduced herself with graceful manners as
Elizabeth Njinkou Njike. She was not the classic beauty per se, even though she
was also graced with a fair amount of her mother’s complexion, her charming looks and her countenance that made her look
seductive in an innocent way. In her eyes, could be discerned that shrewdness,
which seemed to be a common trait in the family, a trait that she too inherited
from her father. At five foot three, she looked taller than her years.
Paul Njomou Njike, the fourth child,
was just a month away from his twelfth birthday. He was tall and thin for his
age and looked timid for a child from an open family. He was already the most
unpredictable child in the family and harbored a quiet force that even his
great father respected. Handsome and blessed with his mother’s light
complexion, he also possessed his father’s granite-like lips, broad nose, and shrewd eyes. People were already
whispering around that he was Nana Njike's most promising son and that he would
become a force to reckon with in the family.
Nana Njike’s last child was a girl.
Nicole Ngenkep Njike was nine years old and the baby of the family. She was
playing with a wooden toy and spent most of her time hovering around everything
and everyone in the household. She possessed a sharp tongue and inquisitive
manner that amazed and baffled people most of the time — family and friends
alike. Inclined to brief periods of moodiness, she was after all the pacesetter
of the happy mood that always seemed to prevail in the Njike home. Plump,
beautiful and resembling her mother more than any of the other children, she
was the prized child to everyone. However, a close look at her also revealed
the granite-like lips and shrewd eyes that were so peculiar to her father.
The heads of most of the families
around the neighborhood in Banganté swamped the Njike family home that evening,
not only to satisfy their curiosity about the son Nana Njike had with a white woman but also to pay their respects for the
safe arrival of a child to his father, family,
and homeland. That the father was Nana Njike, a committed son of Banganté, was
even secondary.
These friendly guests brought gifts
and the joy of life with them. Hans felt honored, muttered words in gratitude,
smiled widely in appreciation and clasped hands with his people in assurance
and reassurance of his friendship and commitment to their love. Curiously
enough, the people would express their discomfort for his too much show of appreciation
with a hush or other polite forms of disapproval now and again. Some of them
even claimed that their meager gifts paled in comparison with Nana Njike’s acts
of benevolence. Still, Hans did not downplay this show of good faith.
Gripped by a sense of peaceful
satisfaction from the fact that his father received a spontaneous reaction from
his people in their effort to see him become comfortable in his new home, family and community; Hans relaxed and started
the process of integrating himself into the way of life of the Banganté people.
The fact that even Mami Njike’s few committed relatives around showed up to
participate in the festive mood warmed the hearts of the members of the Njike
household enormously.
Nana Njike acted like the true
paterfamilias after all by ensuring that they also had enough supply of drinks,
groundnuts, kola nuts, and maize that had been roasted or boiled. Plums and
avocado also supplemented the other provisions from Mami Njike’s kitchen,
making the evening a vibrant one.
The people talked and ate, argued and
drank, sang and debated, quarreled and agreed, laughed and brooded, and carried
on with their extraordinary spirits into the late hours of the night. They left
Hans with little time for himself the entire evening, as he faced one
embarrassing situation after the other, with the guests cornering him now and
then with words in the Banganté tongue he could hardly comprehend. He showed
his gratefulness each time that members of the family came to his rescue and
translated his words for the curious visitors. He learned something from those
encounters, though, and picked up a few Bamileké words in the process. The
whole festive mood around did not pin him down all the time as he sometimes
found his escape with a smile and a quick exit, especially when confronted by
torrents of words from those who had no clue that he was a stark illiterate in
the Banganté tongue.
It was almost midnight when Nana Njike
brought Hans in front of the guests still around and asked them to excuse his
son who had travelled from afar to retire to his bedroom and get some rest.
Then he held Hans’s hand and sauntered with him through the crowded parlor into
the corridor.
“This is the way of our people. They
can exhaust you to death in their jubilation and show of hospitality,” Nana
Njike said breathlessly.
“It is a beautiful experience,” Hans
replied.
Nana Njike shrugged and fell into a
moment of silent contemplation. “Always remember that it is the nature of our
people. Okay, I will show you to your room.”
“Thanks,” Hans said.
Nana Njike led Hans to the third door.
He inserted a key and turned it. Then he turned the knob and pushed the door
open. A dim lamp greeted them. “Here you are, in your den for the night,” Nana
Njike announced in a good-natured voice.
“Phew! It looks flushed way beyond my
expectations.”
Nana Njike grimaced. “I try to live up
to the times. I don’t have to be modest by telling you that it took a lot of
effort to have it the way it is.”
“Thanks, Papa! I appreciate it,” Hans
offered, “Please accept my profound gratitude,” he added and sat on the bed.
Nana Njike sat down on the bed too and
held his head in his hands. He was tired, truly tired; and he needed some rest.
He dropped back on the bed and closed his eyes, wishing even for a moment’s
rest before returning to the parlor to continue the drill of playing host to
his people.
He was on the bed for hardly a minute
when the door burst open and Mami Njike and the rest of the children scrambled
into the room.
“So, you had to hide yourself here
with Hans, huh?” she said accusingly, her hands at akimbo. The others backed
her with accusing words of their own.
Nana Njike smiled and yawned. It was
clear they wanted to join. “I thought he looked tired and needed some rest.
Tell me, Mother of My Children! How come you left the guests alone in the parlor?”
“Most of them left after you virtually
sneaked out of the show. Believe it or not, the few guests who are still around
are not strangers here, not especially when there is still much to drink.”
“Tchwandou, Tankeu and Tchounkeu?”
“Who else?” Mami Njike offered.
“I want to spend the night with Nza
Hans,” Nicole implored, moved up to her father and held his hand.
“Me too,” Elizabeth offered.
“How about us, the children, spending the night together? We can bring in more
mattresses,” Nkabyo suggested.
Nana Njike grimaced and looked at Mami
Njike. Her reply was a shrug that failed to indicate her position.
“I think you should talk that out with
him. He is your big brother after all. Hmm! What is the point? A man cannot die
if he fails to sleep for one night. Uh-huh, Hans! What do you think?” he
bellowed, laughed raucously and then left the bedroom, conscious of Mami
Njike’s footsteps directly behind him.
At around three o’clock that morning,
at that hour when those villagers with distant farms start rubbing their eyes
awake for a new workday, Nana Njike thought he heard the children laughing in
Hans’s bedroom. However, he was too tired to dwell on it. Instead, he closed
his eyes and drifted away. The last thing that crossed his mind before he fell
asleep that morning was the thought that his first son was making himself a
part of his new family faster than he had imagined.
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