THE INADVERTENT MISERY

By OMOSEYE BOLAJI

I savored the ambience of this area – in the heart of the South African location (townships) again. It was an area I had not been to for many months’. Now I was here inadvertently having just met an acquaintance here who had to return a document to me.

I also decided to drop in on the family of Moshe (not his real name); to wit his mother and siblings. I had been somewhat of a family friend for years. Moshe no longer lived here at the family home, but it would be churlish indeed for me to be very near their place without paying a courtesy visit to the mother at least.

The house was just a few buildings away from where I was, near the derelict public telephone. I moved forward a few paces and suddenly Mike, the younger brother of Moshe materialized very near me! We exchanged greetings. I thought that he was no longer a “small boy” – in fact he was not only a policeman now, but a father to boot.

It was clear that Mike was not on duty now. He was as friendly as ever, even inviting me for a drink “at a nearby pub”. But I told him that I wanted to enter their house and say hello to their mother, “I have not seen her for a long time. I can’t come to your area without greeting her. She’s at home?”

There was an uneasy pause. Mike stared at the ground. What was this? Then he said: “Mama is at home, but I’m afraid you can’t see her. She won’t want to see you, Ntate. She’s quite angry with you – “

I winced. What could I have done wrong? Mike went on” You see, my brother, Moshe is in the hospital. His wife attacked him brutally, even stabbed him. My mother blames you for this…” I stared at him blankly. He continued: “Moshe was not supposed to go back to that violent woman of his. He told our mother that you convinced him to go back to her. And she attacked him again! Mama holds you responsible,”

Suke! Trouble can really lurk from any angle, even from inadvertent sources. So, this was my “crime” I had heard from Moshe himself that he and his wife seemingly always had vicious fights, but it was not my business. As I recalled, he had said to me last time:”She’s so violent and always makes my life so miserable. My friends say I should leave her, and the (two) children. What do you think?”

In cases like this, if pressed to “advise”, I always invariably preach reconciliation. So I had said: “You married her because you loved her. Go back to your wife and kids and try to work things out,” Now I was in trouble for this.

But one should always endeavour to maintain one’s dignity. I asked Mike in which hospital Moshe was being treated. He told me. So I rather made a beeline to the hospital. To my consternation Moshe was in a very bad condition indeed (though not life-threatening). But he was in bandages, and we were told he would be on crutches for some time

Under the circumstances the gentleman was quite chirpy and philosophical. (I might as well state that he is by nature a suave, highly educated man anyway) He was delighted to see me. “My family told you what happened to me?” he struggled to say.

I tried not to be brutal, or display acerbity; as I said: “I’m sorry about this. Your brother told me, really. Apparently I am responsible for what happened to you, and your Mum is angry with me. I’m sorry anyway…”

Moshe said, a hint of nigh-aphonia in his voice: “Of course you are not to blame my brother. You are not involved. It is an unfortunate situation and mama is or was being emotional. I will sort things out when I am out of this soul-depressing place. i am the one who fell in love with that woman. I am the one who married her. when things were good or better between us I did not cry. So how can you be blamed for advising reconciliation?...”

I sighed. If only he had told his Mother this!