Hunger Eats a Man (10 page)

Bongani has spent the weeks since his beating by Nomsa as a worried man. His wife has shouted at him before and on many occasions she has burnt his things, but she has never before laid her hands on him. He has always known secretly that, if it came to a full confrontation as it did that Wednesday, he was likely to lose because Nomsa is tall and tough. She is also left-handed. As a young schoolgirl she demonstrated her fighting abilities many times. Every time her fighting talents were spoken about, the fact of her left-handedness featured very strongly as an explanation for her rare but useful talent. Bongani, on the other hand, has always known himself to be a coward.

His main concern now is the fact that it has become too difficult, if not impossible, for him to pursue what he sees as the struggle for his manly right. He begins to construct a way forward. This is the best plan that he can come up with under the circumstances.

It is on a Sunday that Bongani informs his wife about a journey he is about to undertake. He tells her that he is visiting his uncle who lives about two hundred kilometres from them in a small town called Manakanaka. He warns her that he may take a long time to return – perhaps the whole day – since he has not visited his uncle in ages, so she should not expect him home early.

At nine in the morning Bongani arrives at Riverside and fills his tank to the brim before he goes to the restaurant for breakfast. He orders an
English breakfast, asking the waiter to include mushrooms and eggs but no bacon. The toast is to be of brown bread and he only wants juice. No tea or coffee. As he eats his delicious food, his mind is far away, in some lonely place he does not know. He thinks of the plan he is carrying out and what it can possibly accomplish. It makes him smile.

Manakanaka is just a long building, and accommodates about seven shops. Across the fence is a railway line, and further down is a display of artwork for sale. Nothing else!

“I wonder what this should be called?” Bongani thinks as he alights from his car. “It certainly isn't a town.”

Bongani is glad when he sees people sitting on the bench in the corridor of the single building in Manakanaka. On the door they are facing are the words: “Dr S. Ndlovu”. Ndlovu is a popular African doctor in the province. His clients, as well as all those who know him well, call him by his first name, Sgonyela. Next to Sgonyela's consulting room is a room of glass walls. Inside it are two pythons. Bongani feels himself leaning closer to the old woman who is on his left.

A tall man in a white T-shirt and short jeans arrives with what may be a late breakfast for the two fearsome pythons. The man in short jeans drops a live hare and four rats into the glass room. This disturbs Bongani so much that he holds on tightly to the bench as he watches each snake pursue its prey. His attention is taken by the hare, which looks very cute to him, and he identifies with it in an instant.

“Run!” he hears himself say, as he jerks forward in a vain attempt to protect the animal. When the larger of the pythons finally catches it, he struggles to look away. The python is swallowing the hare head first and Bongani cannot help blinking repeatedly as he witnesses the last kicks of the hare.

The door to Sgonyela's office opens and a woman comes out with a man who seems to be her son. As they come out there is a sudden quiet amongst those who are waiting. It puzzles Bongani. Only when the two people have gone out of sight do the discussions start again.

“Do you know if the old man Mdunge has been found or not?” asks a woman with a light complexion and huge breasts. Her face shows that she is a regular drinker of alcohol. Probably the drink that is called
pikiliyeza
(the-pick-is-coming), which is notorious for the fact that it accelerates ageing.

“Yes! He was found dead in the Mpofana River, with his right hand and testicles cut off.” The respondent seems not to be a fluent speaker of Zulu. She speaks with difficulty, and now and then she brings in Sotho words.

“I wonder what they do with human body parts,” says the woman with large breasts.

“Oh that?” a short, dark, bald-headed man says. “It depends on which part it is. Different parts have different purposes.”

Bongani listens enthusiastically as the man, who sounds boastful to him, speaks.

“The head is for the aura,” he says with exaggerated emphasis. “If you want people to respect and fear you, the medicine for that is mixed with some pieces of flesh and oils from the head.” The bald-headed man feels superior as he folds his arms, having finished the display of his undefeatable knowledge.

“And the testicles?”

Everyone in the corridor is interested in the topic. There are no other conversations.

“Hmn! That's another question, Mother, but I will answer you because you have asked,” the bald man says knowingly. He takes a slow, heavy breath before he resumes his speech. “Testicles are used for men who are impotent and those who can't have children.”

This affects Bongani so much that he suddenly stands up to leave, but then changes his mind again. It troubles him to hear this because he has come to get some herbs that will make him impregnate Nomsa despite her contraceptive pills. Now, as he hears what the bald-headed man is saying, he is very disturbed. It makes a lot of sense and this worries him. If he leaves? No chances of ever having children. But the
thought of using the potions of an
inyanga
after what the bald-headed man has said is very painful.

The door opens again and two men and a woman come out carrying a very sick woman on a blanket. As they pass down the corridor the people on the bench keep quiet and watch sympathetically.

It is when they have disappeared that the bald-headed man speaks, “Hmn! That girl will never recover. They are wasting their time. She is already dead.” He has meant this as a joke and is disappointed when everybody either ignores him or looks at him dryly. He is, however, not discouraged. “Did you see her eyes? They were so sunken and white! As if she was meant to see more than we do.”

“All this is the work of the whites.” The woman who says this is seated near a girl who is also very ill. As they speak, the girl is leaning against the wall and is breathing with difficulty. She is not asleep, but Bongani thinks that she does not hear what is said.

“Why do all these sicknesses affect only blacks and not the whites? No! The whites are the cause of our suffering,” continues the woman.

“Yes!” the bald-headed man starts. “They always know if there is a disease coming and they even have names for those diseases before they arrive.”

When Bongani finally enters Sgonyela's room, he takes some time contemplating the place, hoping to locate some misplaced testicles, which would make him leave right away. But the room is cleaner than he had expected and Sgonyela, although one of the ugliest men in the world, shows himself to be a man of order. There is a table and a chair where Sgonyela sits and, just next to him on the right, a cupboard with medicines. More medicine is packed in sealed bottles arranged in rows on the shelves on the wall. On top of the table, in front of Sgonyela, are bones, which he uses to foretell for his clients.

After the two men have exchanged greetings, Sgonyela asks Bongani what he can do for him. Only now does Bongani recognise the fact that he should have spent some time preparing an answer to this question. He tries to organise his words and finds that it is not
easy. How can he tell this man that he has come to ask for the herbs that will cause his wife, who takes contraceptive pills, to conceive?

He makes inaudible sounds as a way of alerting Sgonyela that he is formulating a reply, when a phrase – “complete plain words” – runs through his head and, without thinking further, he ejaculates, “I want children!”

He sees by an amused look on Sgonyela's face that he sounds ridiculous. When Bongani makes no attempt to elaborate, Sgonyela tells him he hears him and assures him that he has come to the right person because there is no problem in this world that he, Sgonyela, cannot solve. “The difficulty, though, Hadebe, is that you did not bring your wife along. My spirit, and it is always right, tells me that it is your wife who has a problem, but it is ‘a young boy' to me.”

“No, Father Sgonyela,” Bongani replies, “my wife will not agree to use your medicines because she is a devout Christian. She is born-again.”

“Oh! So she despises traditional African medicine?” Sgonyela smiles as he speaks and Bongani notices that, at least, he has white teeth. The whiteness of his teeth is enhanced by his black skin. The fact that he has such large pimples makes Bongani sympathise with his teeth, thinking that they should have belonged to a better person.

“No,” Bongani answers proudly. “She believes in one God, and His Son.”

For a moment Sgonyela keeps quiet. He looks at Bongani and Bongani looks back at him.

“Now because your wife does not believe in African medicine, you cannot make her use it?” Sgonyela asks sarcastically and does not give Bongani a chance to respond. “If her Jesus is so important, why doesn't He give her children? Why doesn't He impregnate her?”

“It's hard to force a person to do something she doesn't want to do,” Bongani says in a worried tone. Sgonyela does not know that, if it were possible, he would already have forced her to have children with
him. “The truth, Father Sgonyela, is that my wife does not want to have children. She takes contraceptive pills. I was hoping you would give me something to make me impregnate her despite her taking those pills.”

Sgonyela suddenly changes colour, becoming darker. “I feel like forcing you out of my place! What kind of a man are you? Hhe? Don't you know that you bring bad luck if you talk such shame to my ears?”

“I did not come here to provoke you, Father Sgonyela, but—”

“Don't call me your father,” Sgonyela protests. “If I was your father I would not let your wife piss on your head like this. You are a disgrace to the male population!”

What strikes Bongani is that, as Sgonyela becomes angrier, his voice gets softer. Suddenly Bongani notices in Sgonyela a look of serious meditation. He wishes he could see what is going on in that huge head full of scars and pimples.

“Okay!” Sgonyela speaks at last. “I will help you if you still need my help.”

Bongani is afraid to speak, so he just nods.

“I will give you very strong potions to make your wife conceive, despite her taking those pills of hers.”

This makes Bongani feel better and he decides to encourage Sgonyela: “You are the only one who can help me have children and God knows I want them so much!”

“Leave God out of it!” Sgonyela reproaches.

“I want you to save my children!” Bongani sounds as if he is about to cry. “Nomsa has denied them life for so long and I would give anything to have them live!”

“Don't worry,” Sgonyela consoles him, “you have come to the ultimate doctor. I will make you so strong a man that no pills will prevent you from making babies. You will never again release your manhood in vain.”

“Thank you, Father … I mean, thank you, great doctor,” Bongani feels happy now. “I want to be a bull. I want to bellow like a bull and
each time I do Nomsa should be pregnant. I want to have ten children, Father Sgonyela … I mean doctor.”

Sgonyela smiles as he listens to this young man who looks rich and silly.

“I want to be a bull among bulls! I want to be a man!” Saying this to Sgonyela makes Bongani feel as if he is talking face to face with the Almighty.

“You speak as if you already know that the potions I am going to give you require you to eat large quantities of bulls' testicles.”

“Yes!” Bongani agrees, confused by the excitement of becoming a father. “I will eat as many bulls' testicles as you want me to. Even more!”

“Good! We can begin to celebrate because it's as if you already have the children. You should think about their names and their futures.”

Sgonyela stands up to prepare his medicines now. He mixes and remixes the potions, now and then sniffing at them, and sometimes growling like a lion, which frightens Bongani.

“This is no longer between you and your wife! It's between me and the doctors who make those pills that your wife uses. There is only one way for me to win …” Sgonyela pauses and looks at Bongani, “and that's if you get children.” He laughs happily and Bongani is forced to follow suit.

“Isn't it the whites who came with the idea that women should rule over us?” Sgonyela asks.

The situation he is in has confused Bongani so much that he answers without giving the question thought. But his answer does not surprise him. It is the emotions that accompany it that amaze him: “Yes, it's them! They caused all this. Now I have no children.” His voice is trembling and it sounds as if the tears are just behind the eyes.

“I will make sure all that changes. Your wife will give you so many children she won't believe it.”