‘Who stole my furniture, then?’

The creditor stuttered and said:

‘I didn’t take anything.’

Dad counted out some money, gave it to him, and went on mounting his towering campaign against the other two.

‘They are hiding now behind their wives’ wrappers and yet in broad daylight they THREATENED my WIFE and SON and STOLE ALL MY THINGS! They are RATS COWARDS THIEVES AND ROGUES. Let them come out and DENY it!’

When thecompound peopleunderstoodwhatwasgoingonthey wentbacktotheir rooms. The lights went out one by one. Only the two eldest tenants came out to try and settle matters. Dad didn’t listen to them and went on shouting. One or two men, hidden in the darkness of their rooms, said:

‘It’s Black Tyger. He’s drunk.’

‘Yes, I’m drunk,’ Dad said loudly. ‘But it doesn’t stop me cursing the armed robbers.’

He went on to demand that the creditors return his furniture to his room immediately or he would break down their doors and burn down the house.

‘He’s mad,’ someone said.

‘Yes, I’m mad! I am a mad Tyger and I will burn everything down if those armed robbers don’t return my things NOW!’

The two elders made another attempt at conciliation. Then they tried to hold him down. Dad tossed them off and went on raging like a dangerous animal.

Somewhere in the compound a husband and wife began quarrelling. After a while a door opened and oneofthecreditorscameouttimidly,carryingthecentretable.With his head hung low, he crept to our room and Dad’s voice raged over him in utter scorn. The creditor dropped the centre table outside our door and was creepingback to his room when Dad blocked his way and said:

‘Is that where you found it, eh, you thief!’

‘I’m not a thief. You owe me money.’

‘Is that where you found it?’

The creditor turned back and picked up the table. I was about to open the door for him but Dad shouted:

‘Don’t open the door for that COWARD!’

So the creditor dropped the table, opened the door, went in with the table, and came out again.

‘What about my money?’ he asked in a low voice, as he passed Dad.

There was a brief silence. Then Dad threw his money on the floor.

‘There’s your money, coward.’

The creditor looked from the money on the floor to Dad who towered over him. Then he bent down and picked up the money.

‘Money will kill you,’ Dad said. ‘You drank of my beer, ate of my food, and because of a small amount of money you behave like a rat?’

The creditor scurried off to his room and locked his door. The noise of him quarrelling with his wife continued. After some time their lights went out.

Dad stood sheepishly in the middle of the passage, a little diminished for lack of confrontation. He was returning to our room when the other creditor came creeping out with the pair of boots.

‘Youtoo!’Dadcried,resuminghischargedstate.‘Soyoustolemy boots!’

The third creditor ran to our room, dropped the boots, and came out. Dad stood in front of him, feet solidly planted. There was silence. The cocks crowed. Then Dad threw his money on the floor, and the third creditor picked it up without any fuss and hurried back to his room and locked his door.

Dad stood,feetplantedsolidly onthefloor,waitingforfurtherprovocation.Hehad started moving when a woman from the room of the third creditor said:

‘If you’re so powerful, why don’t you join the army!’

‘If I jointhearmy,’saidDad,whirlinground,‘yourhusbandwillbethefirstperson I will shoot.’

I trembled.

No one else ventured to say anything. Dad waited for someone to speak. The wind swept harder through the passage. The mosquitoes fell on him. The silence deepened and the darkness became indistinguishable from the different rooms. A child started crying. Someone smacked it and it cried even louder. Other babies woke and cried and then one by one the crying ceased and the compound fell asleep. Dad came back in.

He sat on his chair. His boots stood in their proper place except that the third creditor had mischievously displayed his socks so that the holes were visible. The centre table was slightly out of place and I put it in its proper position. Dad rested his feet on the table. Then he lit a cigarette.

Mum had been sitting on the bed, her face stony, her eyes deep, her hands on her head as though shewerewitnessingthebeginnings of atragedy.

Dad’s feet stank and I noticed that his oneshoewas fallingapart.

‘No food?’ he asked, in a gentle voice.

Mum passed his food. Dad washed his hands, beckoned us to join him, and ate. I didn’t feel hungry any more and neither did Mum. Dad ate alone. He had a wonderful appetite and when he finished there were only cracked bones left on the plates. Then my hunger returned and I regretted not eating with him.

Mum cleared the plates. I cleared the table and spread out my mat. Dad lit another cigarette and a mosquito coil and sat still. He went on smoking and it was only when I was falling asleep that I noticed one of the chair’s feet was broken. Dad slept on the three-legged chair and I watched his jaw lower and his face relax. He was awoken by his sudden fall. I showed no sign of having noticed. He got up, grumbling. He blew out the candle and climbed into bed beside Mum.

The next morning no one spoke to us in the compound. Dad went off to work early and suffered nothing of the whisperings that followed us everywhere or the silence that greeted us when we went to the backyard. Mum bore it all very well. She said her greetings to people when she passed them and her face remained impassive when they didn’t reply. She bore it all as if she were used to that treatment all her life. It was harder on me though. The children stared at me with sour faces and made it clear they didn’t want my company. The compound people became united in their dislike of us.

Wewereeatingsomepap andbreadintheroomwhenMumsaid:

‘From today I will start at the market. One woman allowed me to rent her stall. I will not go hawking very much any more.’

I was pleased at the news. Mum fondled my hair.

‘Now, go to school and afterwards stay at Madame Koto’s place till I come for you, eh?’

‘Yes, Mother.’

‘I will be locking the door and taking the key so that no one will be able to do anythingstrangeto us when weareaway.’

I nodded. But as we prepared to leave the room there was a knock on our door. Mumopened it and found thelandlord standingoutside.

‘Tell your husband’, he said, without the slightest formality, ‘that if he repeats what he did last night I will throw him out. I don’t care if he is called Black Cricket. I myself am a lion. If necessary I will send my boys to beat him up. If he gives me any more trouble, if he borrows money from anybody in this compound again, if he threatens to burn down my house, he better go and find himself another landlord, you hear?’

Mum didn’t say anything. Her face was stony. The landlord went down the passage and we saw him go into the room of the second creditor. He emerged shortly afterwards with two of the creditors. The landlord, surrounded by the women and children of the compound, relieved himself of a lengthy speech about the difficulty of building houses, about tenants more terrible than Dad that he had destroyed, and about how powerful he was.

‘If anybody gives me any trouble,’ he said, waving a fetish around, ‘I will show them that trouble is my secret name. Tyger or no Tyger, this is my compound. I did not steal the money to build it!’

And then he bustled out of the compound, with the women and children trailing behind him.

Mum waited in the room for some time before she hurried out, with her tray of provisions on her head. I went out with her. She locked the door and without waiting to escort me to the junction, she shot off in the opposite direction to the one the landlord had taken. She did not call out her wares and I watched her as she disappeared from view.