Fasiri Fasara Fasaha

Ndoa ya Raya ilizingirwa na taharuki. Baba yake aligundua kulikuwa na kijana aliyeshindwa kuficha hisia zake kwa mwanawe. Mwanzoni kijana akimtazama kwa jicho la huba huku akitabasamu kwa chati pale apitapo. Halafu, kwa macho yake mwenyewe, akaona jinsi yule kijana alivyomsimamisha mwanawe mtaani na kusema naye kwa dakika kadhaa, bila shaka alikuwa akimlaghai kwa ahadi kemkem na aghalabu akipanga naye miadi. Yote haya aliyashuhudia mwenyewe.  Ilikuwa utovu wa nidhamu uliokithiri, ukosefu wa adabu na ustaarabu, pia kuvunjiwa heshima kwa baba mtu. Alimfahamu fika kijana huyo, na ndiyo maana alihofia hisia hizo kuelekezwa kwa Raya. Bila shaka, ingalikuwa mbaya zaidi kama angalikuwa mtu baki, ingawa hili lilikuwa balaa tosha. Jina lake lilikuwa Rafik, na alikulia mtaani, mtoto wa nyumbani aliyemfahamu. Wazee wake wakiwa majirani walioshibana katika uhaba uliokumba maisha yao wote miaka nenda miaka rudi. Rafik akikimbizana majiani na watoto wenziwe wa kiume na kucheza mpira katika fukwe za bahari. Halafu, katika misukosuko na mikanganyiko ya mapambano ya kujinasua na Mwingereza, alijiunga na makomredi, kama walivyojiita, na kuwa mwanachama wa Chama cha Umma. Pamoja na makomredi wenziwe alipelekwa Cuba kwa mafunzo ya jeshi, tena chini ya upeo wa mamlaka ya kikoloni ya Mwingereza ambaye inawezekana hakuelewa maana hasa ya safari hiyo au hakujali hata kidogo. Mwingereza alikuwa akijitayarisha kurudi kwao.     

Rafik alirejea akiwa amenawiri hasa, amebadilika na kuwa nguli, shujaa aliyekomaa, mtanashati katika sare yake ya khaki ya kijani kibichi pamoja na chepeo ya duara, nzito, tofauti na yoyote waliyowahi kushuhudia awali. Yeye na makomredi wenzake walirejea na kuwahi kushiriki katika mapinduzi na yale yaliyojiri. Mashujaa wa nyakati hizo, ambamo Rafik alikuwa mmoja wao, watu waliofahamu jinsi ya kutisha watu kwani hakukuwa na adui aliyeonekana wazi. Kulikuwa na wananchi tu, tena waliogubikwa na vitisho. Hata hilo neno, wananchi, lilikuwa na mzozo, tena mashujaa wakipenda kulichezea. Unafikiri wewe ni mwananchi. Tuone cheti chako cha kuzaliwa. Una maana gani hunacho? Watu wengi wa rika fulani hawakujishughulisha kupata vyeti, kwa hivyo karatasi hiyo ilionekana kutakiwa pale palipokuwa na hamu ya kunyanyasa au kutishia, na mara nyingi, vyote. Wewe ni mnyonya damu wa aina gani, unayejidai kuwa mwananchi? Yote haya yalijiri kama sehemu ya tamaa ya mamlaka, kuadhibu, kutisha au kufukuza kwa kujiamulia kiholela tu.

Kwa vyovyote vile, Rafik alirudi kutoka Cuba, maridadi ndani ya sare yake na chepeo kama ile ambayo Fidel Castro alipenda kuvaa – au ili kubadilisha mwonekano alivaa kofia ya bereti  nyeusi kama aliyovaa Che Guevara – akiwasalimu makomredi wenzake kwa salamu ambazo zilikuwa mpya kwa kila mtu lakini ambazo hazikuchukua muda kuzoeleka: vinceremos, la luta continua, vamos. Pia alianza kumtupia macho Raya na kumsemesha majiani huku akitabasamu kwa chati. Yeyote aliweza kuona mpango wake. Raya alikuwa na miaka kumi na saba na mrembo, na yeye sasa alivuma kwa kuwachanganya watoto wa kike.

Sipendi alivyokuwa akikusemesha. Unafahamu jinsi watu hawa walivyo, baba yake alisema kwa hamaki. Usijaribu kunidanganya. Usin’danganye. Nimekuona ukimchekea kama vile umefurahia mazungumzo yake. Anakutaka. Hukuweza kuona hiko? Atakufedhehesha. Atatuaibisha sote. Raya alijitetea. Sasa yeye angefanyaje? Hawezi kujidai kama hamfahamu. Hakutaka kumkera. Baba yake alirusha mikono hewani akimwonyeshea anyamaze, halafu akapunga mikono yake akiashiria Raya atokomee zake huko, mbali na uso wake. Akashauriana na kaka yake mkubwa, Hafidh, aliyejaa woga wa kukumbwa na aibu, kama ilivyokuwa kwake yeye mwenyewe, kwa hivyo angalielewa taharuki aliyokuwa nayo kwa Rafik kumtaka Raya.

Raya’s marriage happened in a panic. Her father found out that a young man was paying unmistakable attention to her, at first with long looks and a knowing smile as he walked by, then he saw with his own eyes how the young man stopped her in the street and held her in conversation for several minutes, probably making impossible promises and arranging an assignation. This all happened in front of him. It was improper and ill-mannered behaviour, and disrespectful to him, the father. He knew who the young man was, which was why the attentions to Raya alarmed him. It would have been even worse if he was a stranger, of course, but this was calamity enough. His name was Rafik, and he had grown up a boy familiar and ordinary, the son of neighbours with whom scarcities had been shared over the years, who ran up and down the streets with other boys and played football with them on the beach. Then, in the upheavals and confusions of the struggle to rid themselves of the British, he joined the comrades, as they called themselves, and became a member of the Umma Party. Along with other comrades, he was sent to Cuba for military training, under the noses of the British colonial authorities who either could not see the meaning of this excursion or could not care less. They were ready to go home.

 Rafik returned more handsome than ever, transformed into a heroic, slender warrior in a solid-green khaki uniform, and wearing a hard round cap unlike any they had seen before. He and the other comrades were back just in time to participate in the revolution and its aftermath. The warriors of that time, of whom Rafik was then one, only knew how to terrify people since there really was no enemy in sight, just scared, brow-beaten citizens. Even that word, citizen, was in dispute, and one which the heroes liked to play with. So you think you are a citizen. Let’s see your birth certificate. What do you mean you don’t have one? Many people of a certain age had not bothered to get one, so the paper was only requested if the desire was to humiliate or to intimidate, or very often both. What kind of bloodsucker are you, pretending to be a citizen? It was all part of the joy of power, to chasten, to terrify or to expel at will.