Roy ordered another beer. “Maybe that’s what made him so mean.”
“I don’t know,” Zeituni said. “I think my father was always that way. Very strict. But fair. I will tell you one story I
remember, from when I was only a young girl. One day a man came to the edge of our compound with a goat on a
leash. He wanted to pass through our land, because he lived on the other side, and he didn’t want to walk around. So
your grandfather told this man, ‘When you are alone, you are always free to pass through my land. But today you
cannot pass, because your goat will eat my plants.’ Well, this man would not listen. He argued for a long time with
your grandfather, saying that he would be careful and that the goat would do no harm. This man talked so much your
grandfather finally called me over and said, ‘Go bring me Alego.’ That’s what he called his panga, you see-”
“His machete.”
“Yes, his machete. He had two that he kept very, very sharp. He would rub them on a stone all day. One panga he
called Alego. The other he called Kogelo. So I ran back to his hut and brought him the one he called Alego. And now
your grandfather tells this man, ‘See here. I have already told you that you should not pass, but you are too stubborn to
listen. So now I will make a bargain with you. You can pass with your goat. But if even one leaf is harmed-if even one
half of one leaf of my plants is harmed-then I will cut down your goat also.’
“Well, even though I was very young at the time, I knew that this man must be so stupid, because he accepted my
father’s offer. We began to walk, the man and his goat in front, me and the old man following closely behind. We had
walked maybe twenty steps when the goat stuck out its neck and started nibbling at a leaf. Then-Whoosh! My dad cut
one side of the goat’s head clean through. The goat owner was shocked, and started to cry out. ‘Aalieey! Aaiieey! What
have you done now, Hussein Onyango.’ And your grandfather just wiped off his panga and said, ‘If I say I will do
something, I must do it. Otherwise how will people know that my word is true?’ Later, the owner of the goat tried to
sue your grandfather before the council of elders. The elders all felt pity for the man, for the death of a goat was not
such a small thing. But when they heard his story, they had to send him away. They knew that your grandfather was
right, because the man had been warned.”
Auma shook her head. “Can you imagine, Barack?” she said, looking at me. “I swear, sometimes I think that the
problems in this family all started with him. He is the only person whose opinion I think the Old Man really worried
about. The only person he feared.”
By this time, the dining car had emptied and the waiter was pacing back and forth impatiently, so we all decided to
turn in. The bunks were narrow, but the sheets were cool and inviting, and I stayed up late listening to the trembling
rhythm of the train and the even breath of my brothers, and thinking about the stories of our grandfather. It had all
started with him, Auma had said. That sounded right somehow. If I could just piece together his story, I thought, then
perhaps everything else might fall into place.
I finally fell asleep, and dreamed I was walking along a village road. Children, dressed only in strings of beads, played
in front of the round huts, and several old men waved to me as I passed. But as I went farther along, I began to notice
that people were looking behind me fearfully, rushing into their huts as I passed. I heard the growl of a leopard and
started to run into the forest, tripping over roots and stumps and vines, until at last I couldn’t run any longer and fell to
my knees in the middle of a bright clearing. Panting for breath, I turned around to see the day turned night, and a giant
figure looming as tall as the trees, wearing only a loincloth and a ghostly mask. The lifeless eyes bored into me, and I
barré
(Barré)
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