‘But since the masters of the land are always bad, or they have been bad for a long, long time, do you not know that people would not like to see the new ones die? They, like the daughters, also come from homes. Homes where people eat well because they know the big men. Do you think that everybody in the land is like you and me? No, my wife. There are people who will lament to see a big man killed. Because knowing a big man means having someone in the town who has a huge house. It means . . . but it is enough, my wife. The big men we saw yesterday were bad. These we see today are worse. And be sure that those of tomorrow will be like those of yesterday and today put together.’

‘Stop, stop. Stop, Zirigu. You make me feel cold all of a sudden.’

‘Women! Were you not the same Setu who, a while ago, was all ready to cut someone down with a matchet?’

‘But what does one do?’

‘How do I know? I serve them the drinks they ask, cook their meals if they want me to, make their beds, sweep their rooms, and more. And if they bring their women, look after them too. You know, my wife, as well as I, that that has been my life. As for the families of those things – as you call the little girls – that, my wife, I do not know.’

‘Yes, Zirigu, now that you say it, I remember that not all of them, I mean their mothers, even disapprove.’

‘Ah . . .’

‘Look at that Munatu girl.’

‘Ah . . .’

‘Do you know how those uncles of hers could have found the money to build that mansion?’

‘Ah . . .’

‘Twelve rooms, they say it has. Twelve rooms. And many pipes for government water in the house. And those who have been inside and peeped into some of the rooms, say that one must see them with one’s own eyes to believe that there are women and men who have such rooms to sleep in.’

‘Ah . . .’

‘And so people try to profit by their daughters by giving them to the big men? And they sometimes even encourage them . . .?’

‘Ah . . .’

‘And if they are like that Munatu’s mother, they come to the market-place telling everybody what and what my lord master is doing and saying . . .?’

‘Ah . . .’

‘When you know that the man will leave your daughter when he’s tired of her or he sees another girl who is more beautiful?’

‘Ah . . .’

‘I spit upon such big men! I spit upon such mothers! I spit upon such daughters!’

‘My wife, now that you are feeling better inside, I will leave you and go to wake up my young master.’

‘And I am getting ready to go and see the doctor about my ears.’

.  .  .  .  .

Knock, knock, knock.

‘Massa, Massa, Massa . . .’

‘Y-e-s?’

‘Massa, Massa, Massa.’

‘Y-e-s?’