Xala Read Online Free PDF Page B

everything they had into their ‘soul’ music. The wedding had lost some of its solemnity and the guests were enjoying themselves.
    The ‘Businessmen’s Group’ sat apart. They were engaged in lively discussion, jumping from one subject to another, from politics to birth-control, from communism to capitalism. On their table were the different shaped bottles of every conceivable brand of alcohol and the remains of wedding-cake and roasted lamb.
    El Hadji Abdou Kader Beye was being very sociable, flitting like a butterfly from group to group. The bride was dancing with a young man. Laughing, El Hadji joined his business colleagues.

    â€˜Are you leaving now? Off to deflower your virgin!’ the President of the ‘Group’ greeted him with unsubtle innuendo. His breath smelt and he was unsteady on his feet. Putting his arm around El Hadji’s neck he addressed the others in a thick voice: ‘Friends, our brother El Hadji will be off in a moment to “pierce” his fair lady.’
    â€˜A delicate operation!’ contributed the member of parliament, rising with difficulty from his seat. After a string of smelly burps he went on: ‘Believe me, El Hadji, we’ll gladly give you a hand.’
    â€˜Yes, indeed!’ the others chimed in.
    Each added his bit.
    â€˜Have you taken the “stuff”, El Hadji?’ asked Laye, joining them. He could not take his lecherous eyes off the prominent thighs of a girl doing the rock-‘n’-roll. Whispering in El Hadji’s ear, he said: ‘I promise you, it works. Your kiki will be stiff all night. I brought the stuff back from Gambia for you.’
    The conversation turned to the subject of aphrodisiacs. They all knew a great deal about them; each had his own favourite recipe. The young man escorted the bride back to her husband and N’Gone’s arrival killed the discussion. Suddenly the lights went out. Cries of ‘Oh!’ and ‘Lights!’ and ‘Give us our money back!’ went up all round. When the lights came on again the bride and groom had disappeared.
    In the nuptial chamber Yay Bineta, the ever busy Badyen; had finished her preparations. Now she had only to wait for the act in which it would all culminate. The bed was ready, with its white sheets.
    â€˜How happy I am, my children,’ she said. ‘The whole family was here – brothers, cousins, nephews, nieces, aunts and relations by marriage. It has been a great day for us all. You must be tired.’
    â€˜Me? No,’ replied N’Gone.
    â€˜I’ll help you to get ready,’ said the Badyen to her goddaughter, all motherly. She began with the white crown, which she placed on the head of a tailor’s dummy. She talked. ‘Don’t be afraid. You will feel a little pain but be docile in your husband’s arms. Do what he says.’
    Whether from modesty or shyness, N’Gone began crying.
    El Hadji Abdou Kader Beye had gone into the bathroom. After his shower he swallowed a couple of pills to give himself strength. Hands in his pockets and smelling of cologne, he went back into the room. N’Gone, clad in a thin nightdress, was lying on the bed: the offering.

    The Badyen had left. The man gazed at the girl’s body with greedy insistence.

    A light, nippy breeze was blowing on this side of the town. The muezzins could be heard calling the faithful to the Facjaar prayer. In the east, between the buildings and above the baobab and silk-cotton trees, the streaked horizon was growing lighter.
    Slipping among the remaining shadows, an elderly woman, covered from head to foot, arrived at the door of the villa. The Badyen, who had been looking out for her for some time, let her in. They exchanged a few, brief words, then together they approached the couple’s door.
    Yay Bineta knocked. No reply. She knocked again. The two women exchanged glances. A vague anxiety appeared in their eyes. The Badyen