“The forest belongs to no one, but man belongs to the forest. We don’t need papers to know what is ours.”
Several men agreed.
“You talk like a Fang.” Iniko rose a finger in the air. “They are going to destroy the centuries-old property rights of many families.”
“For centuries, our word has been accepted concerning the ownership of the land we occupy,” said Dimas. “The word is sacred.”
“The word doesn’t work anymore, Dimas. Now you have to have your papers in order. The new law continues to follow African law, which rejects the private ownership of land and favors its use, but at least it includes a clause on traditional familial property inheritance. They say that no one can bother you on the lands that you have been habitually occupying for agriculture and housing. It’s a start. If my grandfather had presented plans to manage the plantation when the Spanish left, it’s possible he could have kept it. But he didn’t do it. The Spaniards couldn’t transfer the property rights because they didn’t own the land, but they could have transferred the right of concession so that others could have continued to operate it. I want your children to receive this right of concession of the land. So that others don’t come and take it away.”
There was a murmuring. Clarence saw that the majority of those present nodded. In the distance, songs could be heard.
“Thank you, Iniko. We will study what you have said, and we will talk the next time you come. Now we will enjoy the dancing. We have spent a long time talking, and we don’t want our guest to get bored.”
Clarence was pleased that the chief had brought the meeting to a close. The palm wine was going to her head, and she felt sleepy. The day had been long and intense. Iniko’s various teachings and his capricious moods had left her a little confused and upset. On the one hand, she felt privileged after having visited such marvelous and remote places in the company of a man she so desired. But on the other, she regretted that Iniko was not able to separate the true Clarence from her nationality. Would he do the same if she were Australian? She wondered.
Iniko gave her a slight poke and motioned to her to look in front of her. Clarence lifted her head. With her vision somewhat blurred, she looked at a group of women performing a simple dance. They were dressed in raffia skirts and adorned with shell collars and wrist and ankle straps with amulets hanging from them. Their breasts were bare, their faces painted with white marks, and their hair gathered in tiny braids. Some of them carried wooden bells that made a deep sound, similar to the voices chorusing the song. Others beat the ground with sticks and feet in a simple but intense dance. After a while, Clarence found herself murmuring some of the verses. She did not understand what they were saying, but she did not mind. In spite of the drink and the tiredness, the message was clear and pure. Everyone formed part of the same community, the same earth, the same history. Everyone shared the same life cycle from the beginning of time. The ancestral spectacle reduced temporal distance from the infinite to this very moment, which had happened before and would happen again.
When the dance finished, Clarence felt at peace, comforted, and relaxed. Beside her, Iniko gulped the last drops of his drink. Clarence watched him. How to tell him that there were more things that united them than he thought? She felt she had more in common with him—the same language, the same Catholic tradition, the same childhood songs—than with a Dutchman. How to end his resentment? How to tell him that rancor was not good, that it ended up affecting those who were not at fault? How to make him understand that when you can no longer fight for a lost cause, the best option was to find a balance? That sometimes years had to go by before troubled waters could find calm?
Iniko slowly stretched, showing off his enormous span, put out a hand toward her, and, with a captivating smile, leaned over in search of her eyes.
“I could stay here for weeks. Wouldn’t you like to bathe in the waterfall every morning?”
She tingled. It seemed that the charming Iniko had returned. “It’s very tempting, yes, but I have my small paradises in Pasolobino as well. Also, what about the rest of the island, San Carlos or Luba as it is now called, and its giant crater, the marvelous white sandy beach in Alena, from where the fishermen go to the Loros Islands? What about Batete and its church constructed entirely of wood? Don’t you want to show me all that? How could you ask me to give up half of the best vacation of my life?”
“I’ll make it up to you now, and I will owe it to you if you ever come back to Bioko.”
She gave him an impish smile. “Okay,” she agreed, hoping he would get the double meaning of her reply. “In any case, I don’t believe anything can beat Moraka Beach.”
“Wait and see!”
Clarence half closed her eyes while a shiver of pleasure ran down her spine.
“I’m referring, of course, to the fact that you will finally travel around the whole of Sampaka.” He noticed that she blushed and paused. “What did you think? That I’d also ask you to give up your visit to the place where we met?” He got to his feet and put out his hand to help her up. “Do you know, Clarence? It would have been impossible for you to have met anyone else other than Laha and me upon your arrival. The spirits wanted it so. And I don’t know how to fight against the will of the spirits. They must have some reason.”
She remembered having asked herself why she felt attracted to Iniko and not to Laha. Possibly the spirits had some reason for that as well.
It began to rain outside.
“Remember the day I bumped into you?” It had happened barely three weeks ago, but to Clarence, it seemed like ages.
“When I took you for a newly arrived secretary?” asked Iniko.
Clarence laughed. “Yes! I have to admit you scared me a bit.”
“I hope you’re over it.”
“Not completely. When I met you in Sampaka, and then in your mother’s house, you seemed gruff and distant.”
He turned to her in surprise.
“Yes,” she insisted. “I even thought you didn’t like me. Don’t you remember? At the dinner, your mother said something to you in Bubi and you changed.” Iniko nodded. “What did she say?”
“A cliché. She told me not to judge you until I knew you.”
“Well, it was very good advice. Look at how things have changed. If King Eweera were ruling now, you’d be under threat for consorting with a white woman.”
He burst out laughing. “If King Eweera were ruling, you would be under threat for trying to control a Bubi.”
Iniko stopped the 4x4 in front of the rusted gate with remains of red paint on it, over which a name, soldered on, could be seen—SA_PAK_—which had lost two of its letters.
“Since you are so smart, and are so interested in names, do you know what Sampaka means?”
Clarence thought for a couple of seconds. The plantation was set up beside the village that used to be called Zaragoza.