I had gone to bank some money Jack had given me a few months back when a robbery had taken place. It was at the Bank of Baroda. Jacks luck, as far as I was concerned, seemed to be running out. I had started seeing very much of him in the wrong places; in places I was sure he wouldn't have liked me to see him. This was one moment I hated in all my life.
I had arrived at this bank at around 9.45 a.m. I took a form and sat down at the furthest corner and started filling it out. At around 10.00 a.m I heard a gunshot.
Without more warning I went to the floor. I put my handbag under my belly and lay on it. I did not want to know what was going on, but I knew it was something horrible, though I had not expected it. Two men next to me also joined me on the floor. I heard one say in Kikuyu: "Ngoma ici igutura ituthumburaga. No no ruririruitu. "(These devils will harass us forever. And they are our people).
Another shot echoed loud, making all of us almost deaf, then a voice: "This is a hold-up. All of you lie down, your foreheads against the floor." I was in that position already and I wondered whether there were others who were up to that time still standing. The voice continued: "Do not try any funny games. Just keep cool." Although the voice was different from the way I knew it, I could tell I had heard it'more than a million times. The difference must have been caused by the harshness it tried to feign. Then another voice, which I also knew called: "Lenny, jump over the sixth counter." The voice belonged to a man once introduced to me as Captain.
When one of us at last stood up from the floor where we were having a forced siesta, the bank raiders were five minutes gone. I did not see any of them, and I wondered whether there was anyone who had. The confusion which had erupted after the first gunshot had turned us blind.
I didn't bank the five thousand I had; there was no time for that. The police came immediately.
I looked at the faces of the bankers, the faces of those who had been forced to lie down flat on the floor, tasting the dust and breathing with difficulty. I looked at the faces of the police which announced danger and dislike for the action, and then looked at my face, which appeared faint on the glass wall. It was as pale and as full of hatred as all those I had seen in the bank on that day. I felt something different get hold of me; some kind of hatred. Well, I had long proved that my husband was a robber, but I never cared; I still loved him, despite the fact. However, there was no time at all that I had approved of what he did. I never liked imagining him as a criminal. This time I felt strongly against the act. I wouldn't stand for it, even if it meant the end between me and him. It was bad to experience the same loathsome treatment he gave others; innocent people just like me.
I felt guilty of an offence; an offence some of whose fruits were right then in my handbag. The money he had given me had no doubt been earned by this same method. I felt like throwing the money away. But something told me that the best thing I ought to do was to give him the money back, thereby telling him I'd never want a cent from him if it were earned through unfair means.
I got out of the bank. I was stopped by a police officer who told me: "Excuse me, madam, could you please hang around for a minute?" It was a very polite request, but right
then I felt mad with Jack. I wanted to meet him and fight him physically or word to word. I said: "1 am sorry, sir. I didn't see a damn thing. It was horrible. The whole…"
"Take it easy, madam. What we want is someone to help us try and get hold of those beasts. An eye-witness. Just give us some description of any of the…."
"Please,, sir, just understand… I mean, how can you see the face of a person when you are King down with your forehead to the floor and all the threats that if any of your muscles move 'you'll stop a bullet"? Telling you that I saw any face would be King and I wouldn't like to do that." I had become hysterical. I felt like swallowing Jack, the whole of him. and keeping him in my stomach, because I felt Jack was not safe to be free. The inspector let me go. I didn't feel guilty for not telling him that I did not only see the faces, but that I very well knew at least two of the raiders. I didn't hate Jack so much as to give him away to the police. My duty was. instead, to protect him, though right then I felt like strangling him.
He wasn't at home when I arrived. I opened the door and got to the place where I always did my thinking, the same place where I had said prayers for this lost sheep. I sat down. This was the place where I knew happiness; the place where the worldly life was revealed to me. and the same place where all my sorrows got me.
Unlike other times. I now saw Jack moving about in the streets, his pockets bulging with stolen money. I saw him coming home safely, smiling as if he hadn't done anything wrong. I started talking to him. "Jack, I am telling you this once and for all: If you do not stop that game, we are through. I cannot stand this any longer. It is shameful, it makes me feel guilty and I have had enough of that guilty conscience. I was going to bank this money you had given
me. Then you beasts came in and harassed innocent people. Why can't you find something respectable to do? Even the wives of shoeshine boys feel proud of their husbands. Every husband is important to his wife, no matter what he does for a living. Come on, Jack, you must change for the better." I argued with him, without hearing a word from him. I saw him nodding his head every time I told him anything. Then I went out
I woke up very late in the evening, my heart beating rapidly and loudly. Jack had not come. I went to the bedroom to see whether there were any signs of his having come and gone. There were none. I went back to the seat, this time worried that after all I might have been wrong in thinking he was safe. It then occurred to me that every other time I thought of him, I always imagined him in trouble. This time I had thought differently. Could it be the opposite?
I went to bed at 1.00 a.m. after he had failed to turn up. I did not go to work the following morning. In the afternoon, Captain came. Seeing he was alone, I almost got a heart attack. I could sense that he had brought me bad news, though he had never done it before. No one had ever brought me bad news about Jack ever since I had known him. I ushered him in.
'Jack is under arrest. He is in…" That was all I heard then. I could hear him talking, but not what he was saying. I screamed, tearing up the rasta threads on my head. Tears were flowing incessantly. I was jumping up and down, going to the floor the same way I had done when they robbed the bank. I started hating myself for cursing him, for saying he was not safe to be free. I was the cause; I had something to do with his arrest.
Captain gave me time to cry myself dry. When there were
no more tears, he came to me and touched me on the shoulder. "Please, Mama, you had better listen. Crying won't help, not even if you commit suicide." I listened. "Tell me quickly, what shall I do? Please tell me," I begged.
"He is at Central Police Station. I want you to go and see him."
"Will I be allowed to see him?"
"Of course, they won't give you any trouble. The police are good people. They are bad to those who are bad. Not to people like you."
"When did this happen?"
"Last night. I am afraid if I go to see him myself I'll be arrested. I want him to tell you what he wants. The trouble is, he cannot tell you everything because the police will be present when you talk with him."
"My God! Why do you have to do these evil things, Captain? Don't you people realize the problems you put your wives into? Now what shall I do if he is sent to prison?"
"Look, I want you to take what I am about to tell you lightly. It might hurt but unless you give yourself some extra courage, it might not work." • "Just tell me. I am sorry for…"
"Okay, just take it easy. I have tried the best I could. In most cases, we are able to buy our way out of such places. But your husband's case happens to be very, very sensitive. He is involved with a man called G.B. A man who has been on the wanted list for years. I am afraid the two of them are the best harvest the police have ever had in years and no man can be allowed to go near them unless he is proven to be innocent. Tell me, Mama can you take a risk for Jack? I mean would you do anything to save his life."
"Please tell me what you want me to do and I'll do it.
Forget about the risks involved. Without him I am finished. I love that man, Captain, I adore…"
"Okay, Mama, go and buy two loaves of bread and bring them here."
"But Jack doesn't eat bread. He takes…" "I know him better. Please just do as I ask you." When I had brought the bread, Captain took both and opened the wrappers very carefully. He then took a letter from his pocket and put it on the table. "You can read it if you want. But if you ask me, I wouldn't allow you to do so," he told me as he took one of the loaves and started working on it. He opened its bottom carefully by cutting it at the centre with a razor blade. He took out some amount of the soft insides and through the hole he squeezed in the letter. He did the same with the second one and inserted another letter. He then asked me for some wheat floor which I brought and which he mixed with some warm water. He applied the solution to the place he had cut and each of the bread was sealed again. You couldn't notice the cut unless you were informed and looking for it. He carefully wrapped both the loaves again. On the paper he used a different gum. They looked exactly the same as when I had brought them from the shop.
"Buy some soda on the way. Take this to him and his friend. Leave the rest to them."