FRISSON OF INTELLECTUALS

By Omoseye Bolaji

It was serendipitous as the two suave intellectuals found themselves meeting each other for the first time ever – thanks to nna (me!)

There I was sauntering past the main library in toropo (the city) first sharing a hug with the white female traffic officer who seems to have entered the circle of my proliferating acquaintances! It was a Saturday and the library was about to close; so I could only spend a very short time there; in fact my desire to borrow even just one book was truncated.

Whilst sitting down on one of the adjacent terraces just outside the building who should I see but my old buddy Mr Lefuo; educationalist extraordinaire, dignified, humble yet self-assured in his own way. We had been friends for over a decade. He sat down beside me and we talked; on my own part marvelling at his erudition always interspersed with gallows humour!

After some time I noticed the shadow of another gentleman just near us, sort of hanging around, as if waiting for either Mr Lefuo or myself to finish talking. I now stared at the face of the gentleman and it was Mr Soqaga, the pan Africanist, essayist, critic, and author!

I hastened to beckon to him to join us, though in his calm polite manner Soqaga was rather reluctant. On my own part I was happy to introduce both of them to each other.

“Ntate Soqaga?” Lefuo said, “Isn’t he the gentleman who published a book on you, a study, critique of your works?”

“The very self-same one; the man who panned me prodigiously!” I joked. I found it exhilarating for two such intellectuals to meet for the first time; exchange ideas in their sophisticated, yet diffident fashion. I encouraged them to even chat in their mother tongues; and not mind me!

But both gentlemen were too polite to do this, because of my presence; courteous, affable never effusive. It struck me that both of them had a lot in common though Mr Lefuo is older; the same grave, civilised demeanour, intellectual clout, conviction of their beliefs, though always giving the impression of being diffident. After some time Soqaga and I insisted on escorting Mr Lefuo to the post office; and the latter seemed almost embarrassed that we were doing so.

At last I was left all alone with Soqaga who kept on chuckling and shaking his head. This was unlike him so I was moved to say: “What’s going on? Why are you chuckling like this?”

“Chief! Chief!” he said at last. “I’ve got you today!”

“What egregious crime have I committed?” I asked.

“Mr Lefuo,” Soqaga said. “So this is Mr Lefuo. You said he was one of your first friends here in South Africa. Remember your character John Lefuo, in your novel, People of the Townships...so this is the man you named your own character after!”

I was speechless. It took me some minutes to realise that critic Soqaga’s assumption was right...

Above pix: Mr Soqaga