Dada 133

I couldn’t quite follow what came next. After some more long and boring discussion between the lawyers and the bench, the prosecutor, and my counsel, the presiding judge now said the court would rise. There was an adjournment until the afternoon when further evidence would be taken. Almost before I knew what was happening. I was rushed out to the prison van which drove me back and I was given my midday meal. After a short time just enough to realise how tired I was , they came back for me again . I was back in the same room, confronting the same faces and the whole dance and fandango started again. Even with the sky overcast and waiting for the rain the heat of the day had increased and with the air conditioning on its last legs, some further fans had been procured and people were waving their faces towards them like fronds from a coral reef. They writhed like translucent leaves like those from beneath the sea, orange, yellow and blue, the colour of the women’s scarves. The jury, my lawyer and even my friends all seemed a long way away. I was getting an idea of what the prison guard meant. The young man and an older woman were still staring intently at me. I wiped away the sweat from my face but I was barely conscious of where or who they were, when they brought the Director from the home where Dada died to the witness box. When he was asked if Dada had often moaned about me, the chief answered ‘yes’.