A Multi-racial German Son Meets His African Family (Excerpt of Disciples of Fortune)

     The car had its final breakdown less than two hundred yards from Nana Njike's home. Hans watched his father curiously as he pulled it to the side of the road, and then winced and stretched his body.

     “Son, we are almost home, we are virtually home,” Nana Njike announced in a raucous voice. “Cheer up, Son! It turned out to be one hell of a ride.”

     “You are right.”

     “Come on, Son! I am sure you also enjoyed it, in a way.”

     “The journey was memorable,” Hans told his father, making an effort to sound cheerful.

     “Now, let’s get our things out and stretch our legs for the short walk home. Besides, hasn’t it always been the tradition to discover home on foot?”

     Hans laughed despite himself. “Okay. Let’s get on with it,” he said and opened the front passenger door.

     They were taking out the last baggage from the trunk when half a dozen villagers who had recognized Nana Njike  despite the fact that  he and Hans were heavily covered by dust, approached the car and greeted him. Then they greeted Hans too. Hans observed his father’s affability as he chatted with his people and found the extraordinary warmth of his personality intriguing.

     He had never seen Nana Njike laugh in such a light-hearted manner and never thought he could be so dramatic in his expressions. His father was with his people and felt at home as a natural man of his soul. None of the men inquired about Hans, something that was a bit of a surprise to him. However, father and son were aware of the questioning looks on their faces. At length, one of the men called over two of his sons who were scratching their heads and bellies not far away, and then ordered the boys in an equally dramatic manner to carry the bags and suitcases to Nana Njike’s home. The brothers grabbed them and scurried away, laughing at their father who carried his game further with a mock-kick at them.

     Nana Njike chatted awhile with the men before bidding them goodbye. Hans thought he looked rejuvenated as they continued the walk home. When he learned that his father invited the men over for a drink later that evening, he was not surprised at all.

     Two grown boys and a plump motherly figure met them at the veranda of the Njike home. She led the way and gave her husband a hug before turning to Hans.

     “Is this my son?” she asked in German, beaming with a warm smile.

     “Yes, Mami Njike! He is our son,” Nana Njike affirmed and beckoned Hans forward.

     Then Mami Njike did something strange. She took Hans in her arms for a firm embrace and kissed him several times on the cheeks before concluding it with a big kiss very close to his lips. Some of the villagers who had ventured close to the house stared wide-mouthed at the scene in front of their eyes. It was unheard of for a woman to welcome a stranger in such a close manner, let alone kiss him in front of her husband.

     Youmba, a diehard Bamileké traditionalist, even thought it could be an abomination, but wondered whether something like that had ever happened before in Banganté or elsewhere in the Bamilekéland. At length, he shrugged and turned to his friend. His people were not the kissing types after all, and he considered kissing a strange value brought home by people from The Coast. The fact that Nana Njike whom he respected so much was accepting something like that in front of everyone puzzled him. Youmba finally made up his mind to find out about the stranger who could have been mistaken for a white man, wondering what he was doing in the home of their patron.

     Hans discovered his stepmother, his half-brothers and his half sisters that afternoon. They ran him a bath, so that when he rejoined the rest of the family in the sitting room later that evening, he was looking refreshed and in better spirits.

     Mami Njike, born Sarah Kitchongeu Noutcha Njomou and called Mami Alyisha by her neighbors and friends, a mispronounced form of Mami Eliza, was plump and tall, and wielded an uncommon authority about her that amazed Hans. Her round jovial face reminded him of the good mothers in fairy tales. With her well accentuated mouth, her light-complexion, a nose that was slightly broad, and with her soft and beautiful eyes that were almost hypnotic, she looked more Mongoloid than African. Someone even said it to her face that her beauty and light complexion were the attributes that swept Nana Njike off his feet to make her his wife. Had the rumormongers known of her peculiar wits, charming nature and the outstanding depth of her character, they would have thought otherwise. She was busy warming the evening meal. The aroma of roasted pork emanating from the kitchen told Hans in an instant that Nana Njike had a hand in the arrangements. His father had thought of a better way to welcome his son with strong German bearings and an unusual appetite for pork by giving him a taste of it on his first day at his new home.

     Solomon Eichmann-Nkabyo Njike was her first son and child. He was quite tall for his twenty years of contact with the sun and walked around with a steely grace that caught Hans’s eyes. His mother had somehow succeeded to rub off some of her light complexion and the shape of her nose on him. He was broad-shouldered too, with a handsome face and pouty lips that gave him a dignified look. Besides his regal walk, he talked with a persuasive authority that Hans found alluring. His cleft chin and broad nose made him look handsome in a slightly feminine way. It was his eyes in particular that showed a great deal of resemblance to Nana Njike’s. They were charming, yet hard and shrewd-like in nature.

     Philip Nemafou Njike was her second child and son. He was the type of child most people found alluring at first sight. He was almost as tall as his older brother, was almost as dark and handsome as his father and inherited his mother’s high-cheek bones. Even though he did not possess that authoritative force discernible in his elder brother, he kept up to his height by his subtle and graceful manners. He was the child who bore a great resemblance to his father the most and commanded substantial praise from Nana Njike’s friends. Inclined to cleverness and wanton ambitions in later life, he was already a class ahead of his older brother and was performing splendidly in school. He had most of the quietness and intelligent looks of his great father but lacked the force to buttress those qualities. He was eighteen years old.

     Mami Njike’s third child was a girl. She was four years younger than Philip. Hans noticed her sitting on her favorite Bamileké spider stool at the left corner of the sitting room staring at him with curious eyes. She had introduced herself with graceful manners as Elizabeth Njinkou Njike. She was not the classic beauty per se, even though she was also graced with a fair amount of her mother's  complexion, charming looks and countenance that made her look seductive in an innocent way. In her eyes could be discerned that shrewdness that seemed to be a common trait in the family, a trait that she too inherited from her father. At five foot three, she looked taller than her years.

     Paul Njomou Njike, the fourth child, was just a month away from his twelfth birthday. He was tall and thin for his age and looked timid for a child from an open family. He was already the most unpredictable child in the family and harbored a quiet force that even his great father respected. Handsome and blessed with his mother’s light complexion, he also possessed his father’s granite-like lips, broad nose and shrewd eyes. People were already whispering around that he was Nana Njike's most promising son and that he would become a force to reckon with in the family.

     Nana Njike’s last child was a girl. Nicole Ngenkep Njike was nine years old and the baby of the family. She was playing with a wooden toy and spent most of her time hovering around everything and everyone in the household. She possessed a sharp tongue and inquisitive manner that amazed and baffled people most of the time—family and friends alike. Inclined to brief periods of moodiness, she was after all the pacesetter of the happy mood that always seemed to prevail in the Njike home. Plump, beautiful and resembling her mother more than any of the other children, she was the prized child to everyone. However, a close look at her also revealed the granite-like lips and shrewd eyes that were so peculiar to her father.

     The heads of most of the families around the neighborhood in Banganté swamped the Njike family home that evening, not only to satisfy their curiosity about the son Nana Njike had with a white woman, but also to pay their respects for the safe arrival of a child to his father, family and homeland. That the father was Nana Njike, a committed son of Banganté, was even secondary.

     These friendly guests brought gifts and the joy of life with them. Hans felt honored, muttered words in gratitude, smiled widely in appreciation and clasped hands with his people in assurance and reassurance of his friendship and commitment to their love. Curiously enough, the people hushed him quiet every now and then for showing too much appreciation. Some of them even claimed that their meager gifts paled in comparison with Nana Njike’s acts of benevolence. Still, Hans did not downplay this show of good faith.

     Gripped by a sense of peaceful comfort from the fact that his father received a spontaneous reaction from his people in their efforts to see him become comfortable in his new home, family and community; Hans relaxed and started the process of integrating himself into the way of life of the Banganté people. The fact that even Mami Njike’s few committed relatives around showed up to participate in the festive mood warmed the hearts of the members of the Njike household enormously.

     Nana Njike acted like the true paterfamilias after all by ensuring that they had enough supply of drinks, groundnuts, kola nuts, and maize that had been roasted or boiled. Plums and avocado also supplemented the other provisions from Mami Njike’s kitchen, making the evening a vibrant one.

     The people talked and ate, argued and drank, sang and debated, quarreled and agreed, laughed and brooded, and carried on with their extraordinary spirits into the late hours of the night. They left Hans with little time for himself the entire evening, as he faced one embarrassing situation after the other, with the guests cornering him every now and then with words in the Banganté tongue he could hardly comprehend. He showed his gratefulness each time members of the family came to his rescue and translated his words for the curious visitors. All the same, he learned something from those encounters and picked up a few Bamileké words in the process. The whole festive mood around did not pin him down all the time as he sometimes found his escape with a smile and a quick exit, especially when confronted by torrents of words from those who had no clue that he was a stark illiterate in the Banganté tongue.

     It was almost midnight when Nana Njike brought Hans in front of the guests still around and asked them to excuse his son who had traveled from afar to retire to his bedroom and get some rest. Then he held Hans’s hand and sauntered with him through the crowded parlor into the corridor.

     “This is the way of our people. They can exhaust you to death in their jubilation and show of hospitality,” Nana Njike said breathlessly.

     “It is a beautiful experience,” Hans replied.

     Nana Njike shrugged and fell into a moment of silent contemplation. “Always remember that it is the nature of our people. Okay, I will show you to your room.”

     “Thanks,” Hans said.

     Nana Njike led Hans to the third door. He inserted a key and turned it. Then he pressed the knob and pushed the door open. A dim lamp greeted them. “Here you are, in your den for the night,” Nana Njike announced in a good-natured voice.

     “Phew! It looks flushed way beyond my expectations.”

     Nana Njike grimaced. “I try to live up to the times. I don’t have to be modest by telling you that it took a lot of effort to have it the way it is.”

     “Thanks, Papa! I appreciate it,” Hans offered, “Please accept my profound gratitude,” he added and sat on the bed.

     Nana Njike sat down on the bed too and held his head in his hands. He was tired, truly tired and needed some rest. He dropped back on the bed and closed his eyes, wishing even for a moment’s rest before returning to the parlor to continue the drill of playing host to his people.

     He was on the bed for hardly a minute when the door burst open and Mami Njike and the rest of the children scrambled forward.

     “So you had to hide yourself here with Hans, huh?” she said accusingly, her hands at akimbo. The others backed her with accusing words of their own.

     Nana Njike smiled and yawned. It was clear they wanted to join. “I thought he looked tired and needed some rest. Tell me, Mother of My Children! How come you left the guests alone in the parlor?”

     “Most of them left after you virtually sneaked out of the show. Believe it or not, the few guests remaining in the parlor are not strangers here, not especially when there is still much to drink.”

     “Tankeu and Tchounkeu?”

     “Who else?” Mami Njike offered.

     “I want to spend the night with Nza Hans,” Nicole implored, moved up to her father and held his hand.

     “Me too,” Elizabeth offered.

     “How about we, the children, spending the night together? We can bring in more mattresses,” Nkabyo suggested.

     Nana Njike grimaced and looked at Mami Njike. Her reply was a shrug that failed to indicate her position.

     “I think you should talk that out with him. He is your big brother after all. Hmm! What is the point? A man cannot die if he fails to sleep for one night. Uh-huh, Hans! What do you think?” he bellowed, laughed raucously, and then left the bedroom, conscious of Mami Njike’s footsteps directly behind him.

     At around three o’clock that morning, at that hour when those villagers with distant farms start rubbing their eyes awake for a new work day, Nana Njike thought he heard the children laughing in Hans’s bedroom. However, he was too tired to dwell on it. Instead, he closed his eyes and drifted away. The last thing that crossed his mind before he fell asleep that morning was the thought that his first son was making himself a part of his new family faster than he had imagined.