Stranger in his Homeland

Chapter Seven

49 Chapter Seven R elatives and friends poured in daily to greet Antony. Anuse spoke to him on Thursday. On Friday, he was visited by three gentlemen – Eru, Nchindia and Beckongncho. They were all from the Biongong tribe. Several years ago they had been either classmates or playmates. But now, they had met as men with very little in common, save the memory of their childhood days. Eru had a large head, an oval face and small slanting eyes that bore a dreamy or sleepy, almost lovesick look. His hair which reached down very close to his brows were very thick and looked very dark against the light complexion of his face. He had a rather short stunted nose and a small mouth with a very carefully trimmed moustache which stretched the whole distance of the upper lip into the lines that descended from either side of his nose, giving him the permanent expression of a subdued smile. His chin was forever so clean shaven that were it not for the thickness and richness of the moustache, the brows and the hair on his head, one would think a hair could never grow on it. Eru worked as an Assistant Price Control Officer. He represented an Insurance company, and also reported for a local newspaper, Good and Evil. He had tried his hand at correspondence courses in British Constitution and Economics before abandoning studies. He knew that girls liked young men with well groomed “Afro styled” hair. So he always made sure his hair was in that form. His hair was naturally stunted, but just to keep up with the fashion, he would plait it before going to bed so that when he loosened it the following morning and combed it, it looked long and beautiful. He knew that girls liked to see young men with hair on their chests, so he wore his shirt with the chest open to expose the few strands of hair that stood there. For the past ten years, he had been looking for a drug that increased hair growth. So far, he had not succeeded. But, even though he had wasted over 50.000 francs on oils that were said to be capable of doing the trick, he still had not given up searching. 50 Linus T. Asong He always dressed à la mode, and he took care of his body and dress in a manner which only women do. He always smelt perfume, travelled with a pocket mirror and would look into it at the slightest opportunity. He was wearing tight-fitting trousers they called “tanner”, which were the fashion of the day. His Salamanda shoes had thick high heels, which was also the latest style. Finally, he knew that girls liked men who are rich, and so he did anything that lay in his power to give him the amount of money required to keep up the breathless pace of his life. He had consciously chosen to work in the Price Control Office where there were endless possibilities of extorting the most essential thing in life. And living well to him meant amassing as much money as one possibly could from one’s job, moving from one girl friend to the other and wearing the most fashionable and expensive clothes As far as he was concerned, there was no reason to quarrel with anybody on this earth, so long as there were enough beautiful girls for everybody and enough foolish traders from whom to get bribes with which to lubricate one’s life. He did not envy anybody because there was not much more he wanted in life. Antony’s assessment of him was that of a young man that ought never to be taken seriously. Eru was about the same age with Antony, had grown up with him in the same neighbourhood, and attended the same schools. Even now, he lived not very Anuse’’ house. He had left school after only three years in the college and had decided since then to work and earn money. That made more sense to him than the gruelling exercise of spending sleepless nights preparing for exams which one was never sure of passing and which after passing them, there was never the guarantee that one would win the love and admiration of beautiful girls. Antony recalled an incident in the primary school when Eru was transferred from the Basel Mission to the Catholic Mission in Likume. The Parish Priest, a devoted Roman Catholic wrote on...