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Her husband didn’t like it,
He had to drag him wife away.
Gentlemen, please hold your wife.
Father and mum, please hold your girls.
The calypso is so nice,
If they follow, don’t blame Bobby.
The applause and the cries of “Anchor! Anchor!” that followed this number seemed to suggest that no one blamed Gentleman Bobby. And why should they? He was playing his guitar jeje—quietly, soberly, unobtrusively, altogether in a law-abiding fashion, when a woman took it upon herself to plant a kiss on him. No matter how one looked at it, no blame could possibly attach to the innocent musician.
The next number was a quickstep. In other words, it was time to drink and smoke and generally cool down. Obi ordered soft drinks. He was relieved that no one wanted anything more expensive.
The group on their right—three men and two women—interested him very much. One of the women was quiet, but the other talked all the time at the top of her voice. Her nylon blouse was practically transparent, revealing a new brassière. She had not danced the last number. She had said to the man who asked her: “No petrol, no fire,” which clearly meant no beer, no dance. The man had then come to Obi’s table and asked Bisi. But that could not be anything like a permanent settlement. Now that no one was dancing, the woman was saying for all to hear: “The table is dry.”
At two o’clock Obi and his party rose to go, despite Bisi’s reluctance. Christopher reminded her that she had originally elected to go to the films which ended at eleven. She replied that that was no reason why they should leave the dance when it was just beginning to warm up. Anyway, they went. Christopher’s car was parked a long way away, so they said good night outside the gate and parted.
Obi opened the driver’s door with the key, got in, and leaned sideways to open for Clara. But her door was unlocked.
“I thought you locked this door?”
“Yes, I did,” she said.
Panic seized Obi. “Good Lord!” he cried.
“What is it?” She was alarmed.
“Your money.”
“Where is it? Where did you leave it?”
He pointed at the now empty glove box. They stared at it in silence. He opened his door quietly, went out, looked vacantly on the ground, and then leaned against the car. The street was completely deserted. Clara opened her door and went out too. She went round to his side of the car, took his hand in hers, and said: “Let’s go.” He was trembling. “Let’s go, Obi,” she said again, and opened his door for him.
CHAPTER TWELVE
After Christmas Obi got a letter from his father that his mother was again ill in hospital and to ask when he was coming home on local leave as he had promised. He hoped it would be very soon because there was an urgent matter he must discuss with him.
It was obvious that news had reached them about Clara. Obi had written some months ago to say the
re was a girl he was interested in and that he would tell them more about her when he got home on two weeks’ local leave. He had not told them that she was an osu. One didn’t write about such things. That would have to be broken very gently in conversation. But now it appeared that someone else had told them.
He folded the letter carefully and put it in his shirt pocket and tried not to think about it, especially about his mother’s illness. He tried to concentrate on the file he was reading, but he read every line five times, and even then he did not understand what he read. He took up the telephone to ring Clara at the hospital, but when the operator said “Number, please,” he put it down again. Marie was typing steadily. She had plenty of work to do before the next week’s board meeting. She was a very good typist; the keys did not strike separately when she typed.
Sometimes Mr. Green sent for Marie to take dictation, sometimes he came out himself to give it. It all depended on how he was feeling at the time. He came out now.
“Please take down a quick answer to this. ‘Dear sir, with reference to your letter of—whatever the date was—I beg to inform you that Government pays a dependant’s allowance to bona fide wives of Government scholars and not to their girl friends.…’ Will you read that over to me?” Marie did, while he paced up and down. “Change that second Government to its,” he said. Marie made the alteration and then looked up.
“That’s all. ‘I am your obedient servant, Me.’ ” Mr. Green always ended his letters that way, saying the words obedient servant with a contemptuous tongue in the cheek. He turned to Obi and said: “You know, Okonkwo, I have lived in your country for fifteen years and yet I cannot begin to understand the mentality of the so-called educated Nigerian. Like this young man at the University College, for instance, who expects the Government not only to pay his fees and fantastic allowances and find him an easy, comfortable job at the end of his course, but also to pay his intended. It’s absolutely incredible. I think Government is making a terrible mistake in making it so easy for people like that to have so-called university education. Education for what? To get as much as they can for themselves and their family. Not the least bit interested in the millions of their countrymen who die every day from hunger and disease.”
Obi made some vague noises.
“I don’t expect you to agree with me, of course,” said Mr. Green, and disappeared.
Obi rang Christopher and they arranged to go and play tennis that afternoon with two newly arrived teachers at a Roman Catholic convent in Apapa. He had never really found out how Christopher discovered them. All he knew was that about two weeks ago he had been asked to come round to Christopher’s flat and meet two Irish girls who were very interested in Nigeria. When Obi had got there at about six Christopher was already teaching them in turns how to dance the high-life. He was obviously relieved when Obi arrived; he immediately appropriated the better-looking of the two girls and left the other to Obi. She was all right when she wasn’t trying to smile. Unfortunately she tried to smile rather frequently. But otherwise she wasn’t too bad, and very soon it was too dark to see, anyway.
The girls were really interested in Nigeria. They already knew a few words of Yoruba, although they had only been in the country three weeks or so. They were rather more anti-English than Obi, which made him somewhat uneasy. But as the evening wore on he liked them more and more, especially the one assigned to him.
