Toloki remembers that these arguments have come up in some of the funerals he has attended. Various Nurses, and other funeral orators, have blamed the tribal chief for all kinds of atrocities. He has concocted a non-existent threat to his people, telling them that they are at risk from other ethnic groups in the country. Whereas other leaders are trying very hard to build one free and united nation out of the various ethnic groups and races, he thinks he will reach a position of national importance by exploiting ethnicity, and by telling people of his ethnic group that if they don’t fight they will be overwhelmed by other groups which are bent on dominating them, or even exterminating them. Their very existence is at stake, he teaches them. ‘The rotten tribal chief is exploiting ethnicity in order to solidify his power base!’ funeral orators have eruditely explained.
Some members of his ethnic group, especially those from the rural areas who still believe in the tribal authority of chiefs, follow him ardently, and have taken up arms whenever he has called upon them to do so. They are often fired up at rallies by his lyrical praise, and panegyrics, of their superiority as a group ordained by the gods; a chosen people with a history of greatness in warfare and conquest. They have internalised the version of their own identity that depicts them as having inherent aggression. When they attack the residents of squatter camps and townships, or commuters in the trains, they see themselves in the image of great warriors of the past, of whom they are descendants. Indeed the tribal chief, in his rousing speeches, has charged them with what he calls a historic responsibility to their warrior ancestors. Sometimes the police and the security forces assist them in their raids of death and destruction, because this helps to divide the people so that they remain weak and ineffective when they fight for their freedom.
There are many people from the tribal chief’s clan who do not agree with him, and who are eager that the various ethnic groups should not fight, but should unite in their struggle for freedom. Shadrack is one of these people. And he says, ‘You know, long before the bloody tribal chief contrived to use hostel dwellers from our ethnic group to do the dirty work for him, we, the township residents alienated ourselves from these brothers. We despised them, and said they were country bumpkins. We said they were uncivilized and unused to the ways of the city, and we did not want to associate with them. It was easy for the tribal chief to use them against us, for they were already bitter about the scorn that we were showing them.’
Noria agrees with him. She says that indeed we call them amagoduka, those whose roots are in the rural areas and who return there after their contracts in the city are finished. It was not unusual for a hostel inmate to go for a drink in the township, or to see a girlfriend, only to come back with a stab wound, or as a corpse, for the sole reason that he was a country bumpkin.
Toloki is out of his depth in this discussion. He knows there is war in the land, and has mourned at many a funeral of war casualties. But Noria seems to know more details about this whole matter than he thought possible. She talks with authority, and the man under the van seems to take her views seriously.
Shadrack says the taxi business is affected by this woeful situation. For instance, the chairman of his taxi association is deeply involved in factional violence. His luxury house, which is in the township and not in the informal settlement, is heavily guarded. He is said to support the tribal chief, and maintains close links with the police. He has recruited hostel dwellers as taxi drivers, and has kept legitimate drivers on existing routes out of work.
Taxi owners are required to pay a weekly subscription to the association, but recently they have been refusing to do so, because they have discovered that the money is being used by the chairman to purchase arms. As a result, drivers have been intimidated, several of them have been killed, and scores of taxis have been gutted. Some of the taxis are used for gunrunning in the hostels. ‘I have spoken up against all this,’ Shadrack says, ‘and I hear rumours that they want to discipline me. Some say that my days are numbered.’ He says this so casually, as if there is nothing to worry about when your days are numbered.
At last Shadrack has finished tinkering with his van.
‘Your friend will sit in the back, Noria.’
‘I will sit with him.’
‘No ways. A lady will not sit in the back.’
‘It is alright, Noria. I will sit in the back alone.’
After explaining to them exactly where the building material will be found at the docklands, Toloki climbs into the back of the van. As the van drives on the highway to the city, he watches Noria talking animatedly with Shadrack. He wonders why he had agreed to sit in the back, when there was enough space for three people in the front. No, it is not the pangs of jealousy that he feels. He is of the tradition of monks. Okay, he will admit that there is a tiny bit of curiosity in him as to what it can be that the two are talking about. And he would like to know what exactly Shadrack meant when he whispered to Noria thinking that Toloki was out of earshot, ‘Your friend smells like death, Noria.’ And to think he was feeling sorry for him when he heard that his days were numbered!
Shadrack drops them at Noria’s site late in the afternoon. Toloki grudgingly pays him. Through Toloki’s connections with dockworkers and watchmen, they were able to get plenty of building material, mostly plastic and canvas. There are sheets of iron and poles as well. And nails and ropes and pieces of wire. Noria’s house is going to be beautiful, because the canvas and plastic come in all the colours of the rainbow. Noria suggests that since it is getting late, Toloki should go back to his headquarters for the night, while she guards the building material. ‘I cannot leave it alone here because people will steal it,’ she says.
‘Are you not afraid?’
‘What can they do to me? They have already killed my child.’
‘I’ll stay with you, Noria.’
‘You have sacrificed enough, Toloki.’
‘In fact, we can start building now.’
Although Noria feels that she is imposing on Toloki’s kindness, they begin the construction of her shack. First they dig holes for the poles. There will be a pole at each of the four corners, and then two poles at the door. After securing the poles with small stones and with sand, they will use the remaining poles as rafters. This will be the only shack to have the luxury of rafters. Then they will put up the roof by nailing the iron sheets to the rafters. After that they will cover the sides with canvas and plastic. Thanks to Toloki’s connections they have enough material to create a really elegant shack, without paper and cardboard, something much better than the one Noria had before. The finished shack will be the height of a man, which is the normal height for shacks in these informal settlements. They have reached the stage of fixing the rafters when night falls. But there is a full moon, and they continue through the night, constructing what Toloki feels is going to be a masterpiece. And of course, the moon would shine when Noria builds her house, wouldn’t it?
‘Your son’s funeral, Noria, whose shack was that where it was held?’
‘You were there? I didn’t see you.’