A Man of the People Read Online Free PDF Page A

asked. 'Anything master talk. Like Jollof rice, sir.' I knew. Whenever you allowed him a say in this matter he invariably came up with Jollof rice---his favourite dish. 'O.K.,' I said. 'One cup of rice---not one and a half; not one and a quarter.' 'Yes, sir,' he said, and went away happily. I knew he would cook at least two cups. 'Who is she?' I said. 'Who?' 'The girl with the Minister.' 'His girl-friend.' 'I see.' 'Actually it's more than that. He is planning to marry her according to native law and custom. Apparently his missus is too "bush" for his present position so he wants a bright new "parlour-wife" to play hostess at his parties.' 'Too bad. Who told you all this?' 'Somebody.' 'Too bad. Without knowing anything whatever about that girl I feel she deserves to be somebody's first wife---not an old man's mistress. Anyway it's none of my business.' 'He sent her to a Women's Training College,' said Andrew. 'So he has been planning it for a few years at least. I feel sorry for her; that man has no conscience.' I said nothing. 'Imagine such a beautiful thing wasting herself on such an empty-headed ass. I so enjoyed wounding his pride! Did you see how wild he looked?' 'Yes,' I said, 'you hit him hard.' Actually I was amused how Andrew was desperately trying to convince himself---and me---that he had gone to the reception with the avowed intention to deflate his empty-headed kontriman. He seemed to be forgetting in a hurry that he had earlier refused to support me at the staff meeting when I had objected to Mr Nwege's stupid plans. 'Just think of such a cultureless man going abroad and calling himself Minister of Culture. Ridiculous. This is why the outside world laughs at us.' 'That is true,' I said, 'but the outside world isn't all that important, is it? In any case people like Chief Nanga don't care two hoots about the outside world. He is concerned with the inside world, with how to retain his hold on his constituency and there he is adept, you must admit. Anyway, as he told us today, Churchill never passed his School Certificate.' 'I see the offer of free lodging is already having its effect.' I began to laugh and Andrew joined in. You could tell at a glance that he knew me in a way that Mr Nwege didn't. It was one thing to tease me for accepting the Minister's offer of accommodation, but I just didn't want anybody to think that Odili Samalu was capable of stooping to obtain a scholarship in any underhand way. In the words of my boy, Peter, it was 'next to impossibility'. Andrew knew of course that I had long been planning to go to the capital and he knew about Elsie. Well, Elsie! Where does one begin to write about her? The difficulty in writing this kind of story is that the writer is armed with all kinds of hindsight which he didn't have when the original events were happening. When he introduces a character like Elsie for instance, he already has at the back of his mind a total picture of her; her entrance, her act and her exit. And this tends to colour even the first words he writes. I can only hope that being aware of this danger I have successfully kept it at bay. As far as is humanly possible I shall try not to jump ahead of my story. Elsie was, and for that matter still is, the only girl I met and slept with the same day---in fact within an hour. I know that faster records do exist and am not entering this one for that purpose, nor am I trying to prejudice anyone against Elsie. I only put it down because that was the way it happened. It was during my last term at the University and, having as usual put off my revision to the last moment, I was having a rough time. But one evening there was a party organized by the Students' Christian Movement and I decided in spite of my arrears of work to attend and give my brain time to cool off. I am not usually lucky, but that evening I was. I saw Elsie standing in a group with other student nurses and made straight for her. She turned out to be a most vivacious girl newly