Free Taduno's Song by Odafe Atogun

each one of them as they once were, before they became homeless; before they succumbed to drugs and booze; before they sank in the quicksand of their most precious dreams and became snorers in a public square.
    It was a cold night. He wrapped his arms around himself. The snores of the public snorers got louder; still he imagined them.
    He opened his eyes and discovered that one man remained seated next to him on the wooden bench. Hedid not bother to turn to look at the man. He spoke to him through the corner of his mouth.
    â€˜It’s cold and late. You should get some sleep.’
    There was a brief silence. Then the man spoke.
    â€˜I listened to your music, to the song of your guitar; and I waited to hear your voice, but it never came.’ The voice was rich and strong, the breath smelled of whisky.
    Taduno stiffened. He straightened up on the bench, but he was too terrified to turn to look at the man. He was too terrified to speak, lest he discover he was in a dream. He closed his eyes again and the snoring in the square invaded his senses even more; the snoring of lost men, once so rich with colourful dreams.
    The man spoke again.
    â€˜Taduno, is it really you?’
    And then Taduno turned to look at the man, and he reached out and touched him; and feeling his being, his essence, it dawned on him that it was TK indeed. He had on a green fedora that shaded most of his face, and he was dressed in his usual style.
    â€˜TK?’ Taduno whispered, unable to believe his eyes.
    Rising to their feet, they locked in tight embrace. The unwashed smells of TK pervaded Taduno’s senses; but he did not mind. He dragged in the smells deeply, grateful for the miracle of that moment.
    â€˜You remember me?’ he asked, after they pulled back from their embrace.
    â€˜Why would I forget you? How can I forget you?’ TK asked, with a tired laugh.
    â€˜Because the whole world has forgotten me. I returnedfrom exile to discover that no one remembers anything about me.’
    â€˜The whole world may forget, but I can never forget.’
    They resumed their seats.
    â€˜I’m really sorry about everything that happened to you,’ Taduno spoke, unsure what to say.
    â€˜It’s not your fault,’ TK said quietly.
    A brief silence followed.
    â€˜You’re coming home with me. You can no longer live on the street.’ Taduno’s eyes were on the bag at TK’s feet.
    â€˜I can’t. I’ll only cause you more trouble. I . . .’
    But Taduno wouldn’t listen to his protests.

NINE
    They had an early breakfast, not long after TK had shaved and had a nice warm bath and changed into fresh clothes provided by Taduno; not the style of clothes TK would usually favour but far better than anything he had worn in months. And then they settled down in the living room to watch the news.
    â€˜Which channel would you prefer?’ Taduno asked as he flicked with the remote control.
    â€˜No state TV, please,’ TK said mildly.
    â€˜I know better than that.’ Taduno laughed. He disliked state TV as much as TK, so he tuned to the independent station, Channel 4.
    The main news was the heavy military presence all over the city. The grave newscaster confirmed that no one knew what was happening. ‘The whole country is waiting for the President to make an announcement, possibly to declare a state of emergency,’ she said. ‘One man was shot earlier in the day for speaking out against the government at a busstop. But that is no news.’ She looked into the camera with urgent eyes. ‘In the past dozens have been mowed down, and everyone expects many more to be mowed down once a state of emergency is declared. The masses are already gathering sticks and stones in anticipation, the only weapons they have to fight the government. The whole city is becoming tense, and the President is keeping everybody in suspense as usual.’
    She ended her broadcast with the weather