Taduno's Song (13 page)

For a brief moment he thought he saw the smile slip from the President's face.

‘I am glad to hear that,' the President responded, eyeing the guitar slyly. He picked up a paper knife and began to tap an ugly sound on his desk, as if to say, ‘You are not the only one who can make music. See, I can make music too!'

And then it suddenly dawned on Taduno. The President
wanted to break him down before beginning the interrogation, but he was unhappy that he had not succeeded so far.

‘Why are you nodding your head and smiling?' the President asked suspiciously.

Taduno thought it was time to attempt to mess up the dictator's head too. ‘I nod my head because it is my head,' he said. ‘And I smile because it is good for me and I have the right to smile.'

‘You have the right to smile?' the President smiled.

‘Yes, I have the right to smile, even in my underground cell. I can smile anywhere, see?'

‘I see,' the President nodded. ‘Like you are smiling now.'

‘Oh yes, like I'm smiling now. Smiling is good, see?'

The President nodded. ‘I agree with you. Smiling is good. That is why I always smile so broadly when I address the nation. Smiling disarms your enemies.'

‘I agree,' Taduno nodded. ‘The nation is your enemy. So you disarm them.'

The President laughed. ‘You are a very wise and brave man. But your braveness is greater than your wisdom.'

‘Thank you.' He laughed too. ‘But I think my wisdom is equal to my braveness.'

They studied each other for a few moments, two smiling warriors, unsure how to make the next attack.

‘What is your name again?' the President asked suddenly.

‘Taduno,' he replied.

‘Taduno,' the President repeated, keeping his eyes on the guitar on the desk between them. ‘Taduno.'

‘Yes, Taduno. Just Taduno, no first or last name.'

‘Do you know me? I mean, do you know what I am capable of, what I can do to you?'

Taduno shrugged. ‘I don't know, and I don't care.'

He knew he was making a mistake even as he spoke those words. But he was determined not to allow the dictator to win this battle of the mind.

*

They took him to an underground cell beneath the one where they had previously kept him. And they left him there, with a lone soldier who sat in the corridor to cater for his needs.

He pushed his face into the cold bars of his cell gate. ‘Why must they punish you by punishing me?' he said, out of pity for the poor soldier.

‘They are not punishing me, they are punishing you,' the soldier replied.

‘But you are sharing this grave, this underground space with me.'

‘No, I'm not sharing it with you. I'm in the corridor, you are in the cell. I'm guarding you.'

‘Guarding me against what?'

The soldier hesitated, unsure how to answer his question. ‘Guarding you,' he said with a shrug.

‘Are you guarding me against myself or against you? What are you guarding me against?'

‘I don't know,' the soldier admitted. ‘All I know is that you are being punished, and my duty is to ensure you undergo your punishment.'

‘But your punishment is worse than mine.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘We are sharing this grave together. And you are carrying a burden, the burden of guarding me in this grave. I carry no burden. I'm free, but you are not. I'm free in this grave.'

‘You are not free, and that's why I'm guarding you. Attempt to escape if you think you are free.'

‘Free men don't escape. I'm free, so I do not need to escape. It is you who needs to escape. Try and leave this grave if you can.'

The soldier fell into silence. He looked down at the gun in his lap, and he realised how useless it was against his strange prisoner.

*

Sensing that his guard had descended into self-pity, Taduno tried to cheer him up. And as his music filled that cell under a cell, the darkness of the place gradually gave way to illumination, and he saw a smile on the face of his guard.

They enjoyed the music together for a long time; he playing, his guard listening. And in that place and time, they both felt free and lonely. But they bonded in their loneliness so that they began to see each other as friends; and as friends, they knew they had to look out for each other. And so they became safe in the knowledge that they had each other, which wasn't the result the dictator wanted to achieve.

‘You are the first person to be sent down here in a long
time,' his guard said. ‘In fact, only the second person ever to be sent down this deep.'

‘I see,' he replied curiously. ‘And who was the first?'

‘The first was Kongi. He was a strange man. His hair and beard illuminated the place so much I felt dizzy with light.'

‘That's what happens when you have a close encounter with the man. He illuminates you with light.'

‘I agree with you,' the guard nodded.

A long silence followed.

‘This is such a terrible place to be,' the guard said suddenly, with sadness in his voice. ‘I wish I could get out.'

‘Why do you stay here?'

He hesitated. ‘Because I cannot get out. You are right, I cannot get out. I'm more of a prisoner than you. You are right.' He shook his head.

He did not know the right words to say to his guard. He picked up his guitar, and his fingers glided across the strings in a slow trance.

The guard listened.

*

His friendship with the guard developed, and each realised that all he had in that cold cell buried beneath a cell was the other. Sometimes the guard told him about his family: a wife and three young children; and of their futile struggle to survive in a city that was so expensive. At such times, Taduno lessened the guard's burden with the soft music of his guitar.

Convinced that the guard's friendship was genuine, he opened up to him about Lela. ‘At first they said it was an arrest, then I discovered that she was actually kidnapped by the government.'

‘Oh, that woman who is being held in custody by the President? She is your girlfriend?' the guard asked in surprise.

‘Yes, she is. You know her?'

‘I know her. We all know her,' the guard replied, with a wondrous shake of his head. ‘She is a brave woman. No amount of interrogation has been able to break her. We have never come across a woman like her. She refused to give your identity away.' The guard paused and then asked with a frown, ‘Why did they arrest you? I'm sure she wouldn't have given you away.'

‘I was arrested not because she gave me away, but because I was making music in public against the President's order.'

‘Your music is beautiful,' the guard said. ‘We need your kind of music in our sad society.'

‘Unfortunately, the President does not think so.'

‘Have you told him you are the woman's boyfriend? He should let her go now that he has you. She is an innocent woman.'

Taduno remembered Sergeant Bello's words: ‘Government does not believe in innocence,' he had said. He wondered how he was coping with work now that he had joined his voice to the murmuring of the people.

‘No, I haven't told him. I have not had the opportunity to tell him. Moreover, if I were to tell him he wouldn't believe me. You see, my voice is my identity, but I lost it
and right now it is a croak. I must discover my voice to convince him I am the man he is looking for.'

‘It all sounds so complicated and strange,' the guard said, shaking his head. ‘Whatever, I respect you for your music. A man who plays such beautiful music cannot be a bad man. I'm sure the President will realise this in the end and release you and your girl.'

They lingered in silence for a while.

‘I feel so sorry for her,' the guard spoke with sadness in his voice. ‘She's being held in terrible conditions. Yet she is so brave.'

Taduno fought back his tears. He played his guitar. His music was soulful; it told the story of true love that can never be suppressed. The music travelled out of, and far beyond, that cell under a cell, and he prayed it would reach Lela wherever she was being held.

EIGHTEEN

He was shocked the morning the President came to visit him in his cell. He came alone, no bodyguard, and dismissed the lone soldier who had been on duty for weeks.

‘Go home to your family,' the President said curtly to the soldier. ‘Take some time off, but make sure you come back.' The dictator looked somewhat disturbed, but he still had the charming smile on his face.

The soldier saluted smartly and left, delighted at the opportunity to escape, but sad to be leaving Taduno behind. Their friendship had blossomed in the time they had stayed together. But because the President was watching, they could not exchange proper goodbyes.

The smile slipped off the President's face after the soldier had left, and he stared hard at Taduno who stared back hard at him. Slowly, they began to move round each other in a crouch, gauging each other, waiting for an opening.

It was the President who made the first move, a reckless
move warranted by the boldness he saw in the eyes of his adversary. And that move sparked off a fierce exchange.

‘You and your type have tormented me with music for so long. But now you are at my mercy.' The President hissed.

‘I still have my music, even in this underground cell,' Taduno responded, brandishing his guitar in the President's face. ‘I still have my music. Even here, I can torment you with my music.'

‘No!' the President screamed. ‘No. We can end it here and now. I can bury you in this underground cell and no one will miss you.' His eyes were those of a man rattled by a strong opponent.

‘You deceive yourself.' Taduno laughed mockingly. ‘You deceive yourself.'

They continued to move round each other in a slow circle. Their feet made no sound in that cold cell; only the sound of their breathing could be heard. Each time the President attempted to close in, Taduno waved his guitar in his face, causing him to step back quickly.

‘Do you know what I can do to you?' the President asked, breathing unevenly.

‘Do you know what I can do to you with my music?' he responded. ‘Do you know what I can do to you with this guitar?'

‘I can get my men to take your guitar away from you.'

‘No, you cannot. They are afraid of my guitar, the same way you are afraid of it.'

‘I am not afraid of your guitar.'

‘If you are not, try and take it away from me,' he taunted. ‘Go on, take it away from me.'

The President broke out in a cold sweat. Taduno smiled in triumph. Drained of a great amount of energy, they stopped their slow circular movement and straightened up. And they stood there facing each other, panting for breath.

Realising he was up against a worthy opponent, the President raised his voice and called out to his men. Four soldiers came into the cell promptly, as if they had been waiting for their master's call all along.

‘Get two seats!' the President ordered. The charming smile had returned to his face. He must not let his men see him otherwise.

*

They brought two chairs.

The dictator dropped into one. ‘Sit down,' he said, nodding to the other chair opposite him.

Taduno obeyed.

The soldiers stood to attention behind the President.

‘Now, let's get this straight,' the President began, as if no hostility had transpired between them earlier, ‘you said your name is Taduno.'

‘Yes,' he nodded.

‘I understand you were caught making music in public against my order.'

‘Yes.'

‘Why did you disobey my order?'

‘Because I believe your order was unjustified.'

‘You believe my order was unjustified?'

‘Yes. It violates my right to make public music.'

‘You do not have rights. No one in this country has rights. This is not a civilian regime, this is a military regime, see?' The President smiled triumphantly.

‘Well, I want my rights. Every citizen of this country wants their rights.'

The President shook his head in astonishment, unable to understand why anybody wanted rights under a military regime. He laughed in amusement.

Taduno remained quiet.

‘Have you undertaken a search of his house?' the President asked, turning to his men.

‘Not yet,' the most senior of the soldiers answered. ‘We are waiting for instructions.'

‘Go and conduct a thorough search of his house and report your findings back to me immediately. I want all the evidence you can find against this man.' To Taduno, he said: ‘We are going to end this here and now. We will wait here for my men to come back.'

The soldiers saluted and left.

*

Not a single word passed between them while they waited for the soldiers to return. They sat in silence for hours. And each wondered how it was all going to end.

Eventually the soldiers returned. Terror gripped Taduno as he watched them drag Judah into the cell and dump him unceremoniously on the floor.

‘What has the boy got to do with this?' he cried, jumping to his feet.

A soldier shoved him back into his seat.

‘Uncle Taduno,' was all the boy could say. He looked cold and frightened.

‘We found him in his house, sir,' the most senior soldier announced.

‘What?' the President sounded baffled. ‘I ask for evidence, you bring me a mere child? What has he got to do with anything?'

‘We searched the house with a toothpick. That's the only evidence we found. We found him in the living room, sitting comfortably with his feet on a stool, as if he was waiting for us. So we brought him in.'

Taduno was stunned.

‘Son, what's your name?' the President smiled at Judah.

Judah exchanged looks with Taduno, who nodded.

‘My name is Judah,' the boy replied. To Taduno, he said: ‘Don't worry, Uncle Taduno. TK is safe.'