Liberian Literary Magazine
“Man, we not talking
about chop yet. Got to wet
our throats first.”
In the room opposite ours
was a rum shop maintained
by a Mandingo woman.
Karmo suggested we go in
for a drink. The shelves were
filled with an assortment of
bottles. “Let me see,” my
host remarked, when we
entered the shop. “I am
having a small bottle of
Power Rum, and you?”
“The same thing,” I
accepted. We had hardly
finished our second round
of drinks when Gbiti called
us in to eat. This invitation
came at an opportune
time, for I was starving by
now.
“We coming back just
now,” Karmo told the shop
keeper.
“Aloi Karmo, you goo
man. You de pay my
money all time, I no fear
you.”
I did not wait, I dived right
into the hot bowl of rice. It
reminded me of Tene's
cooking when things were
all right. “Compin, this chop
is surely delicious.”
My host accepted the
compliments by petting
Gbiti on the buttock. “You
see, when a woman does
good, she gets praises from
every corner.” Gbiti smiled
and left for the kitchen for
additional sauce.
“Compin, I am not
kidding, tell me, how did
you manage to get such a
charming woman?”
Karmo chuckled. “You like
her eh? If the old man up
yonder made them any
better, he kept them in
heaven for himself. I have
nothing to complain about.
Promoting Liberian literature, Arts and Culture
It's a long story. When I
became a man, my dear
old mother, may God bless
her wherever she is in the
other world. She worked
hard to save enough
money to pay dowry for this
girl. Unfortunately, Gbiti
developed
a
peculiar
illness. A terrible water spirit,
a genie, would come to her
in a dream to make love to
her and try to make her his
wife. When she refused he
threw her in a fit like a crazy
person. The old lady tried all
the doctor men she could
find, but none seemed to
be able to help, until one
day mother was advised to
try old man Boima Bleng.”
I shivered when I heard
the name. “You mean
Bleng of Bieben?”
“That's
right.”
Karmo
replied. “Bleng took six
months to drive the evil
genie away. Now here is
the sad part of the story. My
mother did not have the
money to pay Bleng's fee
and she passed away.”
“One Mandingo diamond
dealer came to Gbiti's
people and offered to pay
the
required
amount
provided they gave him the
girl. My hopeless uncles
were helpless. All of them
put together could not raise
a pound, so they gave in.
One day in tears, I watched
Gbiti being taken away to
Saniquellie by the diamond
dealer.
What did you tell me that
morning, Gbiti?”
“I too was crying, I told
you that in the long run,
right would triumph over
wrong,
and
that
somewhere we would meet
again.”
15
“I
swear
by
God,
Compin,” I reflected.
“Two months after they
got to Saniquellie,” Karmo
continued,
“the
man
abandoned
Gbiti
and
moved off to diamond
mines
with
another
woman.”
At this point, Gbiti dashed
across the hall and brought
two more bottles of Power
Rum. My eyes were turning
slightly by now. I definitely
was approaching the point
of intoxication.
While pouring the liquor, I
clumsily let go the glass and
it came crashing on the
floor. “Look at what I have
done,” I admitted guiltily.
“No Compin,” Karmo
joined in, “that's good luck.”
He raised his hand and
said, “here, take my glass.
Finish what's in the glass so I
can continue my story.”
Karmo insisted. “As soon
as I got through with the old
lady's burial, I went to the
chief in Suehn and gave
him the details of what
happened.
“Not
long
thereafter, he gave me a
letter
to
the
District
Commissioner
here,
explaining
the
whole
palava from start to finish.
After looking into the
matter, the kind old D. C.
ruled that the woman was
mine, provided she still
loved me.” My friend
looked up at his wife and
smiled. “Tell Compin what
you told the court that day,
Gbiti.”
Blushfully, Gbiti, looked at
her husband and said, “that
I was yours, and will always
be.”
“What a story, Compin, I
suggest we drink on it.” I