Taduno's Song Page 7

  ‘I need to have him here if I’m to recover my voice and save Lela. Please try to understand.’

  ‘Of course I understand,’ Aroli laughed bitterly. ‘We’re neck-deep in this together, you and me! But must we forget the pain we could end up causing the innocent people of this street?’

  ‘I promise we’ll keep things quiet,’ Taduno pleaded. ‘Before you know it he’ll be out of here. It is just for a short while until he can find his own accommodation.’ He laughed uncertainly. ‘Hey, you might be able to help with that – getting TK affordable accommodation, I mean.’

  In spite of himself, Aroli laughed. His laughter was warm; it dispelled Taduno’s fears.

  TEN

  But they couldn’t keep things quiet for long. As the days passed by and their rehearsal sessions became more intense, Taduno’s neighbours began to suspect that something wasn’t quite right. They were used to hearing only the music of his guitar, but now a croaky voice accompanied that music. And as the voice underwent a painfully slow improvement day after day, they began to gather beneath the upper-room window once again to marvel at the music of his guitar and the voice that got better and better.

  They soon discovered that there were two voices at work in that upper room that had now become a part of the great mystery that joined them to him: one voice issuing instructions, the other undertaking the painstaking task of singing. They wondered if he now dwelled with a ghost. They wondered, too, what sort of music they were trying to make, if the music would change their lives.

  The neighbours spent more and more time beneath the upper-room window, and Aroli devoted himself more and more to his work as an estate agent, pursuing bigger deals and enduring longer hours of frustration – all in an effort to spend more time away from the street.

  The people could not understand by what miracle the croak of a voice was being transformed. Some said that the ghost had taken over the singing; others said Taduno had become a ghost too, and his voice was now that of an ethereal being. Everyone forgot that the man from the secret service promised to come back.

  *

  Sensing that Taduno was getting more consumed with his music, Judah began to visit him less frequently, not wanting to be obtrusive. He understood that Taduno must discover his voice in order to find his sister. On the occasions the boy visited, he noticed that Taduno kept looking at the stairs leading to the upper room. He assumed that it was because he was eager to get back to work; he never suspected that TK was up there, waiting for the all clear.

  And so the boy would make his visits very brief. ‘I know you must get back to work,’ he would say. ‘The earlier you discover your voice, the better. Maybe it will help us to remember you.’

  Taduno would smile with a hint of guilt. Often, he thrilled the boy with a beautiful song before saying goodbye.

  *

  One afternoon, without thinking of Taduno’s warnings, TK parted the curtains of a window in the upper room to get a bit of fresh air and some sun. As he stretched by the window, he realised that the entire street was gathered below. But it was too late for him to pull the curtains together. The people stared up at him. And as they beheld the Afro cut that graced his face like a halo, they gave a collective gasp, and it dawned on them that the man above was TK, the famous music producer. A second gasp rose from the crowd, and they fled, certain that their lives were about to be altered for ever.

  Taduno had gone downstairs to get some water. He returned to discover that TK’s cover was blown. All he could do was mutter a silent prayer.

  *

  Maybe it was that prayer that summoned Aroli back at that particular time. As soon as he disembarked from an okada, the entire street rushed to meet him, to share their discovery.

  ‘He has him in his house.’ ‘We saw him, he came to the window.’ ‘They have been making music together all this while.’ ‘He is the man the secret service man came to enquire about.’ Their voices clashed as they all tried to speak at once.

  Aroli felt deflated. He had always known it would happen sooner or later. And now that it had happened, he wondered what would follow.

  ‘Okay!’ he said, raising his voice and his hand for quiet. ‘Let’s not bring down the tower of Babel.’

  Everyone became quiet. None of them liked the sound of bringing down the tower of Babel.

  ‘Who are we talking about here?’ Aroli asked.

  Looking round at their faces, Aroli saw their fear, their confusion, and he felt pained that he had allowed this to come upon them. However, he reminded himself that he had to get the situation under control, or else all would be lost.

  ‘What did you see? Who are you talking about?’ Aroli pressed, even though he knew the answers to his questions.

  The big man known as Vulcaniser, who owned a roadside workshop on the street, cleared his throat to indicate that he wanted to speak.

  ‘Please speak,’ Aroli said, nodding towards the man.

  Vulcaniser cleared his throat again in further warning, a man who understood that you could never be too careful, especially when the issue was as serious as that at hand. He rubbed a palm across his face. Then he took a few paces through the small crowd towards Aroli.

  ‘We saw TK, the music producer, upstairs in Taduno’s house. He came to the window. They have been making music together all this while.’ Vulcaniser’s voice was taut.

  For a moment, Aroli was lost for words.

  ‘Are you sure he was the one you saw?’

  ‘Very sure,’ Vulcaniser responded. ‘He is a popular man, everybody knows him.’ He spread out his hands to show his point as the others nodded in agreement.

  ‘So what’s the issue?’ Aroli asked, pretending not to know.

  ‘The man from the secret service said he would come back. He warned us not to withhold any information we have about TK. He said we would face grievous punishment if we did.’

  ‘And he promised us a big reward of money if we supplied useful information about TK,’ one man spoke from the back of the crowd.

  ‘Shh!’ Vulcaniser said in loud warning. ‘Let’s not bring down the towel of banbel. Speak only when you are asked to speak.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Aroli said, appreciating Vulcaniser’s effort to maintain order. ‘So what must we do now?’

  ‘I think we should tell the secret service man everything we saw when he comes back.’

  Aroli reflected for a moment.

  ‘I don’t think that’s the best solution to the problem. Remember, the man from the secret service works for government. And government never keeps a promise. I can tell you that if you report this matter, you won’t get any monetary reward. Instead, they’ll beat everyone and lock everyone up. I’m sure you all have an idea what a government cell looks like. So I say we should just keep this matter between ourselves as neighbours.’

  Their voices broke out again, and they argued amongst themselves. And they spoke in anger because they were afraid and no one agreed with anyone else. They spoke like this for almost a minute until Aroli raised his voice above all theirs.

  ‘Remember the tower of Babel!’ he shouted.

  Quiet instantly returned. Sweat dripped down all their faces, and they began to shake, confused about what to do; uncertain what would happen to them if they did what they had to do or if they failed to do what they must do. They all looked to Aroli for direction. And the direction he gave them was a simple one – each one of them must keep their mouths shut about what they had seen.

  *

  Aroli came face to face with TK for the first time since he moved in with Taduno. Actually, it was the first time he had ever seen TK in the flesh, and he was amazed at his magnetic personality. He wore a simple smile; his Afro cut was dark and well kept.

  Aroli greeted TK in a reverent manner, shaking his hand as if to say ‘I’ve always wanted to meet you!’

  TK’s handshake was warm, and it passed a current between them that came from the depth of his being. Several minutes after that hands
hake, Aroli still felt his touch, and he kept looking at the man and then down at his own hand, wondering if he had touched him with magical light.

  In Taduno’s living room, the three men discussed the development on that street.

  ‘They all know that TK is here,’ Aroli said, as if TK was not in the room with them.

  ‘It was a mistake,’ Taduno explained in a tired voice. ‘TK wasn’t aware that they were outside the window. He forgot my warning that they could be watching us.’

  ‘They thought of reporting it to the secret service man next time he turns up,’ Aroli said. ‘But I talked them out of it.’

  ‘I think I should leave,’ TK said, rising to his feet.

  ‘No!’ Aroli said sharply. ‘You don’t have to. You have nowhere to go. I’m hopeful that they will keep their mouths shut. Stay, please. But be more careful next time.’

  ‘Thank you, Aroli,’ Taduno said, looking away. To think that he had been afraid that Aroli would betray him. He suddenly felt ashamed.

  ‘Please sit down, TK,’ Aroli implored.

  TK remained standing.

  ‘Please sit down, TK,’ Taduno added.

  For a moment, TK studied both their faces; then he resumed his seat. ‘I don’t want to bring trouble to folks around here,’ he said quietly.

  ‘Think about it,’ Aroli said. ‘If they report your presence everyone will get into trouble for sure. They are better off keeping their mouths shut, and that’s what I told them. Concentrate on making beautiful music again and then we’ll take it from there.’

  ‘How much does he know?’ TK asked Taduno, nodding towards Aroli.

  ‘He believes my story even though he cannot remember me,’ Taduno explained. ‘He believes that they are the ones who forgot the past and everything about me.’

  TK shook his head. ‘I have never seen so much faith,’ he muttered under his breath.

  ELEVEN

  The man from the secret service turned up the following afternoon. From the buzz on the street, Taduno had advance warning, so he told TK to hide in the attic amongst several sturdy shelves where it would be difficult to find him. And then he went to sit in the living room with his guitar, waiting to hear a knock on his door.

  The knock came about an hour after the secret service man arrived on the street, after he had visited all the other houses to ask questions. Taduno went to open the door holding his guitar in one hand. He knew that his fate was no longer in his own hands but in the hands of neighbours who did not remember a thing about him.

  He invited the man in politely. He noted that he was tall and broad-shouldered, with a very quiet demeanour. He offered him a comfortable seat. He offered him cold water in a large mug. He had learned from somewhere that men like him who worked for government were always thirsty and hungry. But he had no food to offer him, and he dearly wished he had some food in the house, a piece of chicken maybe.

  He waited for the man to drain the contents of the mug, and then he asked him if he wanted more. The man nodded, and he went and got him more water, in a bigger mug. And as the man nursed the mug of water in his hand, Taduno asked, ‘To what do I owe this visit?’

  ‘You seem like a very nice person,’ the man observed.

  ‘Thanks for the compliment. By the way, my name is Taduno. What’s yours?’

  The man gave a wry smile.

  ‘My name is irrelevant. Names are irrelevant in my line of work. You can simply refer to me as the man from the secret service.’

  Taduno nodded. ‘It makes a lot of sense,’ he said, even though it made no sense to him at all.

  ‘Thanks for the water,’ the man said with a smack of his lips. ‘That was very cold. The best cold water I’ve tasted in a while.’

  Taduno nodded. ‘You’re welcome.’ He did not ask if he wanted more.

  ‘As I was saying, you seem like a really nice person. I don’t know why government is showing a sudden interest in you.’ He paused. ‘Oh yes, it has to do with TK, of course. My bosses want to know the connection between the two of you. I understand you’ve been going around with your guitar making enquiries about TK. Correct?’

  ‘Correct,’ Taduno nodded.

  ‘If you don’t mind me asking, is that the same guitar you’ve been going around with?’ He pointed at the guitar in Taduno’s hand.

  ‘Yes,’ Taduno replied.

  ‘You see, I’m asking these questions so that I’ll know what to report back to my bosses. So please don’t think that any question is unnecessary.’

  Taduno nodded. ‘I understand completely.’

  ‘When and where did you buy the guitar in question?’

  Taduno thought for a moment. He decided to answer the question truthfully.

  ‘I bought it some weeks back,’ he replied, ‘from a second-hand shop in Tejuosho market.’

  ‘Do you have a receipt for it?’

  ‘Oh yes, I do. I can get it if you want.’

  The man waved that away. ‘Never mind, it won’t be necessary, so long as you have a receipt.’

  ‘Yes, I do,’ Taduno said helpfully.

  ‘Now let’s talk about TK.’

  ‘What about him?’

  ‘Why have you been going around with your guitar looking for TK?’

  ‘TK is an old friend. I haven’t seen him for some time, so I thought I should pay him a visit.’

  ‘And is that why you’ve been going round bus stops all over the city asking questions about him? You want to pay him a visit at the bus stop?’

  Taduno wished the questioning would come to an end.

  ‘Well, nobody knows his whereabouts, so I decided to extend my search all over the city.’

  ‘And what have you discovered? Have you found him or heard anything about him?’

  ‘No, nothing at all,’ he responded, fixing his eyes on the secret service man.

  The man asked a few more questions. Then he nodded, satisfied, pausing for a while, as if going over a mental note. He tapped the side of his head with one finger and then nodded again.

  ‘Well, I guess that will do for now. If you find TK or hear anything about him, report to the nearest police station.’ His voice had suddenly turned hard. He rose to leave. ‘I’ll keep in touch. Thanks again for the water. It was really cold!’

  Taduno nodded with relief, dazed from answering so many seemingly stupid questions.

  *

  ‘It’s just a matter of time before someone gives me away,’ TK said, after the secret service man had left the street.

  ‘Let’s hope that does not happen. Aroli is working amongst them to make sure they keep their mouths shut. He has a way with people. I’m sure he will manage to keep them from talking.’

  ‘He is a very interesting young man,’ TK observed. ‘I like him. He is direct.’

  Taduno nodded. ‘Yes, he is direct. But for a moment I almost thought he was being two-faced with me.’

  ‘One shouldn’t be too quick to judge.’

  Later, Aroli brought them some food from Mama Iyabo’s restaurant, and some good news. He watched Taduno and TK eat, noting that they both ate in the same fashion – slowly, but with zest.

  ‘You must join us,’ Taduno said. ‘The food’s good.’

  ‘Thanks, I’ve already had something to eat,’ Aroli said, walking slowly round the living room. ‘How’s practice going?’

  TK cleared his throat. ‘Great. His voice has improved tremendously. He will soon be ready to sing again.’

  Aroli rubbed his palms together. ‘There’s good news from the street. The neighbours are cooperating. I spoke to them individually, and they all gave me their word not to mention your presence to anyone. I wasn’t around when the secret service man came earlier, but I understand that no one gave him any useful information.’

  ‘He was here to see me,’ Taduno said. ‘We had a chat while TK was up in the attic. He seemed like a nice guy, but I know that his niceness is not real.’

  They finished eating. While Taduno took t
he dishes to the kitchen, TK and Aroli chatted lightly.

  ‘I understand you are a poet,’ TK said, with a smile.

  ‘Yes,’ Aroli responded. ‘But you see, poetry does not put food on my table, for now, so I make money as an estate agent.’ His usual line. ‘I can get you very affordable accommodation when you are ready. No agency fee, no legal fee! But you must give me three recommendations.’

  ‘I see. And you’ll make what you are losing to me from my recommendations, I presume?’

  ‘You get it! Robbing Peter to pay Paul.’

  They both laughed.

  ‘That’s very kind of you indeed,’ TK said. ‘Maybe I’ll commission you to write some songs for me when I get back to producing music. Poets can be good songwriters.’

  ‘I’d be delighted to write you some songs, seriously. But I hope song writing’s not a poor art like poetry?’

  ‘Find out when the time comes,’ TK responded with a laugh.

  *

  It did not come as a shock to anyone when the President went on air to declare a state of emergency in Lagos. What did come as a shock to Taduno – and indeed everyone – was his reason for doing so. In a nationwide broadcast, the President explained that music had caused a lot of problems for his government in recent times. As a result, his government had decided to ban all association through music. He went on to explain that a certain music producer who had been on the government’s radar had suddenly disappeared into thin air and he feared that this individual could go back to making troublesome music in an attempt to bring down his government. He urged everyone to cooperate with his security forces in their investigations, warning that anyone who failed to do so would be severely punished. In order to minimise the threat facing the nation, his government was imposing a dusk-to-dawn curfew in Lagos until further notice. Anyone found on the street during curfew hours would be shot like a dog, no, a goat, he corrected. He explained that goats are known to be very stubborn animals. So anyone who flouted the curfew would be shot like a goat.

  He ended his broadcast with a charming smile.