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The Poor Christ of Bomba
Mongo Beti
(First published 1956. English translation 1971)
It's nearly five kilometres rom Kota to Bitie. While we were passing a small village, I saw a girl making signs to Zacharia from a veranda. When we got level, she greeted him openly and Zacharia went towards her. He took her hand and they talked gaily together like old friends who have met by chance. Meanwhile, I waited on the path for Zacharia. But he followed her into the house and soon I heard him calling: 'What the hell are you doing out there? Come on in! This little funk! How will you ever be a man? Come on!'
I didn't dare refuse. I'm really beginning to dislike this Zacharia. As soon as I came in, he said: 'What are you scared of, eh? Of me? Of her? Speak up, what's the matter?'
'But I'm not scared,' I said angrily.
'Then why did you stay out there on the path?'
I didn't answer him; I was looking at the girl and thinking I had seen her before. I'm sure I have. But where? Never mind. She was certainly looking nice. She was wearing a short dress, only just below the knees, all decorated with bright flowers. She must be a lawless hussy to ignore the Father's rules about the length of dresses. But she is certainly pretty. She laughed a lot at Zacharia's jokes and showed her white teeth, which were filed in the middle to make a little gap. She took off her scarf and showed part of her fine black hair, which was trained in long ringlets towards the neck, where they all were gathered together. She is really a beauty, and I keep wondering where I've seen her. She was very familiar with Zacharia and kept looking at me with the corner of her eye. Once she said: 'Look at the Father's child!'
They both laughed and I tried to join them, just to please Zacharia. We stayed nearly an hour in that house, before Zacharia said we must be on our way. Then they whispered in each other's ears. I couldn't hear what they said, but the whole thing looked fishy to me. The two of us started off again and Zacharia whistled all the way, very pleased with himself. But goodness, how comforting it is to find a village like Bitie. Of course, it's not like a roadside village, but things would be well enough if we had a few more places as good as this. And then the Father wouldn't have taken this strange fancy to give everything up...
Zacharia must be ill again. His door hasn't stopped creaking since we went to bed. What is all this coming-and-going? Funny. I thought he'd got over his diarrhoea. Another noise from his quarters! As though he were talking to someone - all sorts of whisperings and murmurs. If the Father heard that, he'd think that I was involved. Thank God, his house is some way off!
How lazy I feel tonight! Luckily, I met a boy here from the school in Bomba and he will serve Mass tomorrow morning in my stead. He came here to convalesce with his family, so giving me a chance to sleep late for once.
And this morning I asked a local boy to do it. But this one had never been to our school and he must have made a hash of it, for the Father didn't look very pleased when he came from church. He never likes my playing that trick, for he complains that the village boys can't speak Latin properly, that they muck up the ceremony, ring the bell all wrong and generally get everything muddled. But this time I can sleep late, as I did this morning at Kota....
But what on earth is happening in Zacharia's room? A creaking noise now, so he must be really ill. And who was he talking to just then? Perhaps the catechist was offering him a remedy. All the same, he did nothing but spruce himself up while the Father and I were making our visits. This village is like one huge cocoa farm divided by straight paths, with the chapel at the centre, for every house is built in the shadow of a cocoa tree.
Yes, at Kota this morning I slept really late, thanks to that local lad, and I didn't get to the chapel till the palaver had already started. There was one really disturbing case, a numerous family whose head was a pagan polygamist, with three wives after the first. That first wife was a Christian with many children, the eldest being a man already. Because of his bad relations with one of his uncles, this son was tried at the time of the latter's death. For hereabouts no one is ever supposed to die from natural causes. So they always manage to try someone for witchcraft, although the Father has told them many times that people often die of disease or dirt or because God so wills it. But the Talas will have none of it.
So the young man was declared guilty of his uncle's death, simply because they had once been rivals in love. To prove his innocence, he went to consult a well-known sorcerer. For here even the best Christians make use of sorcerers in an affair of this kind.
The Father summoned this young man to the palaver, but he didn't appear, although a Christian, and only his mother was there to answer for him.
'Why did you let your son consult this witch-doctor?' the Father demanded. 'Don't you know that I have forbidden it?'
'Father, I didn't give him leave to go. In fact, I forbade him to go to that man's house, being a Christian as he is. It was his father who ordered him to go and consult that rogue Boto, Father....'
'Who is this Boto?' asked the Father impatiently.
'Boto is Boto, Father. You must know him by now, after all the years you've lived among us.'
'Around here, everyone seems to be called Boto! Do I really know this man, this Boto?'
'Yes Father, you must know him. Why he's the famous man-with-the-mirror, against whom you are always preaching. You know him right enough!'
At this point someone stood up in the audience and said: 'It's Sanga Boto they are discussing, Father. Yes, Sanga Boto, everyone knows him. You're sure to meet him tomorrow, or the day after. He's always somewhere about the country.'
The Father said it would suit him well enough to meet this fellow. Personally, I've often heard of Sanga Boto. In fact, I believe he's had lots of scrapes with the Father before. I wonder what will happen when they meet this time?
While the Father and I were making our rounds, I had such a curious feeling. Bitie is not simply full of the usual carefree atmosphere of this country, but adds to it a kind of pure, unmixed tranquility. I don't know how to explain the joyful sensation which filled me. Was it that round, brilliant moon, as luminous as the Blessed Virgin in one of our illustrated texts? Was it the soft mysterious light which floated over the forest, the cocoa farms and the houses? Many gramophones were playing here also, filling the evening with their strange and empty cries; but even this didn't annoy me. Many boys were still playing in the dusty compounds before the houses, despite the late hour. And when they saw us passing they cried with such touching sincerity: 'Jesus Christ be praised!'
Bitie reminded me of my village before the road got to it, and these boys were like myself in those days. Then my village too enjoyed this mysterious calm. Mother told me, before her death, of all the evils that road had brought amongst us. And my father only escaped forced labour because he was the catechist, for he was rounded up and driven to work like all the other fit men of the place. But the Father came and explained that this was his man, so the white overseer let him go. My mother nearly died of joy, when she saw him led back to the house by the Reverend Father...
Gosh! Still all that row from Zacharia's place.... a rhythmic creaking mingled with whispers and little moans. It's been going on for hours. I'd give a lot to know what's going on in there!
Ah, Bitie will have been a good stop, when all's said and done. Just because of this place, perhaps the Father won't give up Tala after all. Sodom and Gomorra would have been saved by a single just man. And the Father won't abandon this country while there's a single village in it that's more or less just....
Sango Boto, the man-with-the-mirror! I've been hearing about him for ages. Perhaps he's the one spoiling this country? What has this witch-doctor been doing to turn so many people from God? If the Father catches him, he'll surely get him locked up. Then we shall be free of this charlatan.
