The Gathering Storm

Eighteen

198 EIGHTEEN Several more years after Uhuru had gone by. Mpunguta and Bulembe had changed greatly. There were many more people in the town itself and with the increase, more buildings had been erected. The clusters of mud houses roofed with thatch had been largely replaced by brick buildings with glimmering corrugated iron sheets on top of them. And this time these were arranged in proper streets. The very numerous business installations which erupted in the early aftermath of Uhuru were by then reduced to only a few. It looked as if some of the businessmen had been giving as good as they got to their rivals. For the differences between them kept growing so rapidly that many soon found themselves at the feet of their rivals asking to be employed, just like those they themselves had employed in better times. Mpunguta had grown relatively bigger. There were many more houses and things, too. If you took the route from Bulembe to 199 Mpunguta you would read on a big signboard just before reaching where Kamuyuga used to live, printed in huge capitals, HAMNIWEZI STORE and below this, in smaller writing, ALKARIM & SONS. If you had known persons by the names of Kamuyuga, Mugindi, and Mashaka, then you would have to change to Alkarim, Amina and Juma respectively. As a courtesy you couldn’t call somebody by an old, rejected name and here you would have to get used to the changes. At Hamniwezi, as people of Mpunguta and all around used to call the residence of Alkarim, there was a permanent atmosphere of liveliness. There was no time during the day when there were not people playing bao in the verandah of the shop. This had become the centre of Mpunguta. For the people of Mpunguta, Hamniwezi became their town. When they felt bored or lonely at home and wished to find themselves something interesting, they would drag themselves over to sit on the verandah at Hamniwezi, watching the many people who came to shop or just visiting, or merely watching those who played bao. If it was nighttime then it was enough to sit and fix ones eyes at the brightly shining petromax and watch the beetles that swarmed, cheering the bright light. When Alkarim himself was not there the team of servants would chatter loudly, making a lot of noise, and yell at girls, calling them every name that happened to come into their minds. At night the place slept dead except for Kadufi, who was the night watchman strolling around the buildings. He would pace 200 along the verandahs to the poultry house which stood some twenty metres adjacent to the main house. He would not do this for very long. When midnight came he would find himself a dark place, where he would lean against some box or other, wrap himself in the heavy sheets and blankets which during his stroll were slung over his left shoulder, and thus would sleep soundly. Saturday was the day when Zaleme came from Bulembe in his pick-up with cow meat for the Hamniwezi butchery. The other days he sold meat at Hamniwezi butchery in the Bulembe market square. The backyard was nonetheless filled with life. There were the wives of Zaleme, Juma and their children; there was Amina herself, there were two girls who had come to live with the Alkarims from relatives at Mkomolo, but these were by then no less than paid house servants. These were not the only people to be seen in the backyard. There was Zayumba sitting beside the oven baking bread or chapatis, making tea or doing the landlady’s housework. Juma was the dealer in the shop. He used to sit on the verandah playing bao until somebody came to buy one thing or another. Juma would still continue playing bao while the customers kept standing at the counter. He would do so until a time came when he jerked himself at leisure and went to serve the already - indignant customers. Like the Indian shopkeepers who were his model, he knew it would never do to serve customer with rapidity and courtesy. Then they did not respect you. 201 Alkarim himself had no particular assignment. He would often be seen standing on the door steps outside the shop, dressed in a shuka tucked in at the waist. His belly, which had grown very big during the past seven years...