ELEVEN
THINKING ABOUT TOMBI CONSUMED Witness for the rest of the weekend. And the more he thought about her, the angrier he became. He didn’t deserve to lose both his women, both his loves. He felt he was about to explode.
On Monday morning, Witness phoned the police station yet again—with the same result. They had no new information. Witness screamed at the policeman on the phone. “You’re all useless! You’ve done nothing to find my Tombi. You should all be fired!”
He slammed down the phone and, totally frustrated, headed to BIG MAMA KNOWS ALL, even though it was only nine in the morning. When he arrived, he found he was the only patron. He sat down at the counter and, after a few minutes, heard a door slam at the back of the shebeen. Moments later Big Mama wheezed her way behind the counter.
“Witness, my friend, it’s too early to drink. You must take hold of yourself.” The counter creaked as she leaned on it, her gigantic cleavage looming in front of Witness’s face. “And why aren’t you at work? It’s important you keep yourself busy.”
“Big Mama,” Witness replied, “I have to understand what’s happening to me. I need to do something. I can’t sit around and do nothing.”
“Some things are just meant to be.”
“Aaii, Big Mama. I don’t believe that. I’ve always been good to my family. I’ve worked hard. But I’ve lost everything. First my wife, now my daughter.” He shook his head. “Witchcraft is behind it. Someone has put a curse on me.”
Big Mama looked at him, weighing her words. “It may be so. It is indeed strange.”
“Who would do that? And why? I’ve done nothing bad to anybody.”
“Perhaps you need help from someone who understands these things.”
“But you are powerful, Big Mama. People come to you from far away. You can explain these things.”
“No, Witness, my power is in healing. My medicine is for making people well, not for casting spells, or for removing them. I can’t help you.” Her upper arms and breasts wobbled as she stood upright. “There is a woman not far from here who is very powerful in such matters. People visit her from all around the country—for help in getting married, or having children, or making money. I’m told she’s very successful. But she’s also very expensive. You could ask if she will help you. But be prepared to pay many pula.”
WITNESS WALKED UP TO the nondescript house surrounded by nothing but sand and a few rocks marking the path to the front door. An elderly man wearing long pants, patched at the knees, and an old sport jacket sat barefoot on a milk crate outside the door. Gray hair curled from underneath a brown fedora.
“Dumela, rra,” Witness said, standing several yards away.
“Dumela,” came the reply. Most of the man’s teeth were missing and, when he spoke, there was a slight whistle.
Witness stood waiting.
The man looked at Witness but said nothing.
Eventually Witness broke the silence. “Rra, is this the place of Mma Gondo?”
The man pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his eyes.
“Yes.”
“Rra, I’d like to consult Mma Gondo on a problem I have—a daughter who is missing.”
The man gazed at Witness without saying anything.
“Rra, I don’t know what I must do to see Mma Gondo. Can I make an appointment? And how much will she charge?”
“Tomorrow at ten in the morning. She will tell you how much.” The man closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall.
THE NEXT MORNING WITNESS was at the witch doctor’s house with plenty of time to spare. The doors and windows were shut, and the old man nowhere to be seen. Witness waited a few minutes, then walked to the end of the street and back. When he returned, nothing had changed. He wondered if the old man had remembered to tell the witch doctor of his appointment. Now agitated, he walked tentatively around the house. The curtains were drawn behind all the windows. But when he reached the front again, the door was open. Hesitantly he moved toward it, peering into the dark interior.
“Come inside, Witness Maleng.” The voice was old and husky. Witness started to tremble. How did she know his name? He edged inside. To his right, through an open door, he saw an old woman with white hair and heavily wrinkled face, sitting on a pile of pillows. Around her shoulders was a heavy blanket even though the day was warm.
“Sit over there.” She pointed to a low wooden stool. Witness sat down and waited.
For several minutes, the woman stared at him. He was afraid to say anything.
“You have brought the money?”
“Mma,” Witness stammered, “the old man said you would tell me how much. I have brought all I have. Nearly a thousand pula. It’s all I have.”
The woman continued to stare at him. Witness glanced away. What would he do if it wasn’t enough?
Eventually the woman pointed to the floor between them. As she did so, the old man hobbled slowly through the door and put down a wooden bowl. Then he turned and left.
“Put your money in there,” she rasped.
Witness pulled a pile of dirty pula bills from his pocket and put them carefully in the bowl.
He sat back and waited.
“Your daughter is missing, and you want to know how to find her.” It was a statement, not a question. Witness nodded.
“A girl like your daughter can provide very powerful muti. There are people who seek such muti to get what they want—power, money, good luck. And there are witch doctors who will help them. They do not think of the children’s families.” She paused. “Muti like that costs many pula. More than you dream about.”
The old woman rocked back and forth, eyes shut.
“Your daughter is a virgin?”
“Yes, mma. I believe so. She has no boyfriend.”
“Did she bleed each month?”
Witness was not used to such talk and looked at the floor. “Yes, mma. I took her to the clinic before Christmas.”
“That is good, but it is also bad.”
Witness frowned but said nothing. There was silence for a few moments.
The old woman sighed. “You must seek a man. A man who was nothing and is now everything. A man no one knew and now all know. A man who was weak and now is powerful. That is where you must look. That is where you will find out about her.”
Witness was puzzled. He didn’t understand. “But where will I find this man? Where must I look?”
“You will know the man when you see him.” She turned away.
“But, mma! I don’t understand.” Desperation was beginning to creep into Witness’s voice. He felt a hand take hold of his upper arm. It was the old man.
“Come!” The grip was strong. It led him to the door, where he was blinded by the glare. He turned to argue, but the door closed. He heard the lock turn.
“BIG MAMA! MMA GONDO took all my money, but she was no help. I don’t understand what she told me.”
Big Mama pulled a carton of Shake Shake from the fridge and shook it vigorously. “On the house,” she said. “Now tell me what happened.”
Witness recounted what the witch doctor had said. “She said look for a man who was nothing, and is now something!” he cried. “There are many like that. Where do I start?”
“Sit down, Witness. Listen to me. She’s a very powerful witch doctor and wouldn’t cheat you. Hear what she said.”
“I told you what she said. Nothing that can help me.”
“It’s very clear to me what she told you to do.”
Witness frowned.
“She said you must look for someone who was nothing, who now enjoys great success.”
“But where do I start? There must be many like that.”
“The man’s fortune would’ve changed since Tombi disappeared. You must look for something that’s happened in the last week.”
Witness nodded slowly. “But where will I start? Gaborone is a very big city.”
“Tombi was stolen from here. Here’s where you must start.”
“But Big Mama, I’ve been looking since the day she disappeared.”
“Not for the right thing. You’ve been looking for information, for clues. You must now look for people.”
“But where?”
“You paid Mma Gondo for her wisdom. Now trust she will guide you.”
WITNESS WALKED OUT OF the shebeen into the bright afternoon. For a moment he stood blinded by the light and blinked a few times. Then, starting to cross the street, he looked up and saw the man, the man Mma Gondo must surely have meant all along. In front of him, crooked on a lamp post, the man’s face leered at him. Bill Marumo! Witness stood staring at that smiling, taunting face.
A man pushing a wheelbarrow of potatoes shouted at him to get out of the street, but Witness didn’t hear him. He only moved when a car hooted loudly, the driver swearing at him.
It had to be Marumo; the man was evil. He knew that. Yet, how had Marumo benefited? He puzzled about it for a few minutes, and then he laughed aloud, attracting odd looks from passersby. How easy it was; how clear now that he’d thought it through. The man hadn’t benefited. Not yet.
He turned round and walked back into BIG MAMA KNOWS ALL.
“Witness! You back already?”
“Yes, I’m back. You were right. Mma Gondo showed me.” He nodded slowly. Big Mama folded her arms, using them to support her impressive breasts, and waited for him to continue. But he changed tack.
“The Freedom Party,” he said. “Everyone says it is impossible for them to win. Isn’t that right?”
Big Mama shrugged. “People here have always supported the BDP. A few young people support the Freedom Party, yes. It’s Marumo’s charisma and his empty promises. But the BDP will wipe him out.”
Witness shook his head. “No!” he said. “He’ll win. You’ll see. Marumo will win.” She started to reply, but he turned and walked out. Then he drove home. He was sure he was right, but he’d wait for the election on Friday to be absolutely certain. In the meantime, he’d plan his next move. He was calm now, satisfied in his hate.