“Getting It Right, If Ever” — Excerpt

Benji was fortunate to acquaint with a priest’s daughter, Molly, who was in a small group of visitors to his village church one Sunday. She was pretty, short blonde hair, average height, chubby, and full-bosomed. He read a short passage from the bible and a personal poem about: What it means to be a faithful Christian. At the end of the service, Molly introduced herself to him. Amid small talk, she told him, smiling, ‘I was born of Viklandish parents in Kenya.’

‘So that makes you an African. Am I right?’ smiled Benji, seeming pleased.

‘Yes,’ Molly said. ‘But since my parents are Viklandish, my nationality is Viklandish.’ She smiled, then added, ‘My parents were missionaries there.’

‘That’s great,’ Benji said. ‘It is generally considered that missionaries went to Africa and elsewhere to save souls and spread the Word of God.’

‘Yes, that’s true. But also, my parents loved Kenya, they always said.’

‘I believe you,’ Benji said. ‘The priests from Inglan came to this little island on a similar mission: the cleanse us of our sins.’ He was on the verge of saying the word infidels but did not.

***

The priest’s daughter and Benji began a pen-pal friendship.

One Saturday in late August, the weather was hot, and a persistent flow of fresh breeze permeated the island. Benji sat at a table in his bed-sitting room. Through a single jealousy window came the sound of birds from trees or rooftops, passing vehicles, and occasional loud laughter and conversation from two neighbours from both sides of the street.

Benji then began to write to Molly for the first time. He wanted to acquaint her more with TeeGee. She had only made a one-day visit to the island and a few other islands in the Caribbean.

Dear Molly! It is now noon on a Saturday. I feel the need to give you a personal view of my island. Tanya is the capital of TeeGee, where one-third of the population resides. The island’s population is estimated to be four hundred thousand. Vehicles and many donkeys- and horse carts are the transportation of foods and goods. There are many, many bikes, around one hundred thousand privately owned cars, fifty garbage trunks, one hundred public transport buses (all second-hand from London Transport), several police stations and fire brigade stations, ambulances, two general hospitals, an American hospital, and several medical clinics. Supermarkets, cake shops, bakeries, and two large outdoor public markets. The capital city is overcrowded and highly congested. Air pollution is a significant problem. Stray cats and dogs, some cattle, and some homeless folks are shameful objects/features on the roads and streets. Most of the island is rural, with a moderate size of farmland and forest and cattle. The country exports rice, sugar, and rum. Tourism is also a means of earning foreign currency. The cost of living is high, and the local currency is six dollars to an American dollar.

Benji wrote that a colonial flag was flying from poles and government buildings on the island. Its citizens want independence, but the island relies heavily on British trade, aid, and North American tourism. Unemployment is high, and many dreams of living abroad in Canada or the USA. The beaches are the main tourist attractions.

Benji further wrote that he enjoyed the whistling and twittering of canaries and kiskadee birds, the tropical climate: breezy wind, and the bright blue sky. At times the weather could change in a jiffy, with heavy rainfall and even lightning and thunderstorm. Then quickly, the splendid weather returns.

Another time, he wrote, as if to promote himself: I had done some work for the Reverend John Little, assisting him by running errands and doing chores. One chore helped the Sunday school teacher, Mrs Wilson, and another task was reading the scripture from time to time. The Church was small (he reminded her), but the congregation was big. Families came in their Sunday best clothing which the Church might have provided, or from an American charity organisation. I want to take a leave of absence from the Church and life on the island.

Benji had sent her some of his poems.

Molly wrote, ‘I enjoyed reading your letters and the poems.’ He was overjoyed because he hoped she might be eager to assist in his struggle to get them published in her country. Molly said she was willing to help him become a published poet.’

Benji became exceedingly happy about the probability of seeing his poems in print. He wrote, ‘I had often recited my poems to a tiny audience in the village. And I was once interviewed on YoYo radio. I am known and respected by several village residents and probably somebody who might someday bring some fame, if not a fortune, to the YoYo village.

Someone had made sarcastic comments about his literary ambition, to which Benji offered a fixed smile of condescension.

Molly wrote, ‘Someday you should visit my beautiful country, and you’re welcome. It could be worthwhile for you to learn more about church matters before returning to TeeGee. The Church would be willing to have any of its members provide you with lodging.’ She would consider volunteering, she wrote.

Molly’s invitation might’ve come after Benji wrote about his forty years on the island, which had not resulted in anything significant. He had become weary of earning his living as a labourer, which was nothing to boast about — his aspiration lay with becoming a published poet and securing a low-rank profession. Becoming a dancing instructor was not a farfetched idea. Already he considered himself a competent limbo dancer.

Benji wrote to Molly, among other things, ‘You are a generous and lovely Viklandish.

She wrote back. Thank you, Benji, for your kind sentiments. I enjoyed reading your letters as well as the poems. Benji smiled at her words, wondering whether this was how love would appear in his life someday. Molly seemed eager to lend a helping hand in the struggle to get them published in her country. So far, no woman in TeeGee offered to support him in becoming ‘somebody’, although he was the first to admit that he was never interested in becoming anyone of importance.

Benji reread Molly’s letter several times. Then he dreamt of collaborating with her on his debut book of verses. He would later claim that he might be in love with Molly.

He had never travelled abroad. And so, he became overwhelmed by visualising what it would be like to live in another country.

Benji would take a leave of absence (as he phrased it) from his voluntary church duties and paid chores and seize Molly’s invitation. It would be a combination of him wanting to distance himself from Yoyo and wishing to be near Molly and the probability of becoming a published poet in Vikland. He envisioned himself returning to TeeGee as a man of importance.

***

When Benji left the island for Vikland, a local newspaper Daily Bulletin carried a few lines: Aspiring poet going abroad to further his literary ambition. On behalf of the citizens of TeeGee, we wish our native son a safe flight and the best of luck in the beautiful country of Vikland, known to us as ‘earthly paradise’.

There was a photo of him in his Sunday best black suit, holding a briefcase and a smiling countenance, and another with him after a church service or bible class some years earlier. Benji wore his hair close to the skull and the appearance of his youthful face then. He did not like the photo but purchased the newspaper, all the same, and smiled to himself. Benji had never appeared in a newspaper.

Benji’s poems could not compete with several social activities on the island, especially Hollywood movies in theatres and other entertainment types. Most of the persons he knew were not enthusiastic about poetry or books, for that matter. A group of intellectuals and writers of one kind or another mostly lived in Tanya. Benji considered them snobs whose interest was highbrow European and North American literature, which distinguished men/women of letters penned. His poems were “not up to standard.” He knew his ‘lowbrow poetry’ did not stand a chance of obtaining appreciation from the intelligentsia. The snobbery inspired him, however.

Of course, Benji was disappointed that he did not have what it took to receive a national appraisal. He told his few friends, ‘ My hopes are high in getting published in Vikland,’ to add a bit of prestige to my literary work. Benji once dreamt that his poetry was like the best of ‘working-class bards’ from Inglan: William Wordsworth was his favourite. It might be his imagined grievance against homemade copycat bards in TeeGee. Benji appeared to be his own worst critic, which might have made him immune to those who belittled his literary ambition.

Life being what it was, educated folks joked about Benji being a primary school dropout. He knew he could not impress them with his random, self-tutoring devotion to learning English and literature at the high school level. Or, through mostly borrowing books from a mobile library, an old, red Volkswagen minibus made its rounds every fortnight in the village.

Benji’s paperback Collins English Dictionary was a birthday present from the Church on Pastor John Little’s recommendation. The Pastor had encouraged Benji’s ambition to extend his vocabulary and usage of the English language. Benji became his own ‘tutor’. He would struggle to free himself from creole English (so-called ‘broken English’), for he was emotionally attached to such English. It felt authentic to him, regarding it as a spiritual link to Africans deprived of their spoken tongues on the island. Benji secretly considered standard English (taught in schools) as his second language.

And yet, he covertly looked up to those who had attained a high-school diploma and, even more, university graduates. Benji was no different from most TeeGeedians who were awestruck by anyone with at least five GCE subjects (General Certificate of Education) — exams that came to the island of TeeGee from the United Kingdom Great Britain. It was a mark of academic achievement — it certified your intelligence (‘that you had brains’) and acknowledgement from society.

Before leaving for his overseas trip, some friends amazed him with a treat. They took him to dinner at an Indian restaurant in Tanya by public transport. Chicken tikka masala curry, roti and rice.

At the end of the treat, his friends held up a printed poster with a farewell message:

Good Luck, Benji!

On your departure to Europe

To embark on a literary career.

Long live Benji Cumberbatch!!!’