Half of a Yellow Sun

"My wife went on afia attack some days before the war ended, and we have not seen her since."

The woman shrugged. "One day you will know," she said.

Richard thought about those words on his way to Lagos the next day and he became even more convinced that he would not tell Ugwu that Eberechi was dead. One day Ugwu would know. For now, he would not break Ugwu's dream.

It was raining when he arrived in Lagos. On the car radio, Gowon's speech was broadcast yet again: No victor and no vanquished. Newspaper vendors were ru

Her mother hugged him. "Have you been eating, Richard?" she asked, in a fond familiar way, the way a mother would speak to a son who had neglected to take care of himself. She held him tightly, leaning on him, when they walked into the sparse living room, and he had the glorious and uncomfortable feeling that she thought she was somehow holding on to Kainene by holding on to him.

Kainene's father was sitting with Madu and two other men from Umu

The stew that was served at lunch had too much crayfish; Kainene would not have liked it and she would have leaned toward him and said so. After lunch, Richard and Madu went out to sit on the veranda. The rain had stopped, and the leaves of the plants down below looked greener.

"The foreigners say that one million died," Madu said. "That can't be."

Richard waited. He was not sure he wanted to have one of those conversations so many Biafrans had now, passing kernels of blame to others, oiling their own faces with a valor they had never had. He wanted to remember how he and Kainene had often stood here and looked down at the silver swimming pool.

"It can't be just one million." Madu sipped his beer. "Will you go back to England?"

The question a

"You'll stay in Nsukka?"

"Yes. I'm joining the new Institute for African Studies."

"Are you writing anything?"

"No."

Madu placed his glass of beer down; water droplets clustered on it like tiny see-through pebbles. "I don't understand how we have found out nothing about Kainene, I don't understand it at all," Madu said.

Richard did not like the sound of we, did not know who Madu included in it. He got up and walked across the balcony and looked down at the drained pool; the floor was made of polished whitish stone, visible through the thin sheet of rainwater. He turned back to Madu. "You love her, don't you?" he asked.

"Of course I love her."

"Did you ever touch her?"

Madu's laugh was short and harsh.,

"Did you ever touch her?" Richard asked again, and Madu was suddenly responsible for Kainene's disappearance. "Did you ever touch her?"

Madu got up. Richard reached out and grasped his arm. Come back, he wanted to say, come back here and tell me if you ever laid your filthy black hand on her. Madu shrugged Richard's hand off. Richard hit him across the face and felt his hand begin to throb.

"You idiot," Madu said, surprised, staggering slightly.

Richard saw Madu's arm raised, saw the swift blurred movement of a coming punch. It landed on his nose, and the pain exploded all over his face and his body felt very light as it sank down to the floor. When he touched his nose, there was blood on his fingers.

"You idiot," Madu said again.

Richard could not get up. He pulled out his handkerchief; his hands trembled and he got some of the blood on his shirt. Madu watched him for a moment and then bent down and held his face between wide palms and examined his nose closely. Richard could smell the crayfish on Madu's breath.

"I didn't break it," Madu said, and straightened up.

Richard dabbed at his nose. Darkness descended on him, and when it lifted he knew that he would never see Kainene again and that his life would always be like a candlelit room; he would see things only in shadow, only in half glimpses.

37

Ola