Page 241 - harryDEC12_clean.iba

After we had left the bridge we went a few miles southwards down to Flatbush Avenue until Amado turned left. Graffiti-covered bricks, where young people were hanging about in groups and staring with curiosity at the black limousine, lined the streets to right and left. Only then did it occur to me that a multi-coloured pennant on which a coat-of-arms was visible decorated the left fender of the car. The closer we got to our destination the more curiosity gave way to recognition, and many blacks greeted the limousine respectfully and Amadi graciously waved back.
Our goal was at the end of Mytie Avenue.
A large house with a white columnar gateway that stood a long way back from the ribbon of surrounding terraced houses, though in this neighborhood there were no graffiti-covered houses, and on the corners were standing small groups of well-built young black men of neat appearance. Some of them had a microphone in their ear. We stopped before the gateway, and then Amadi opened the door and handed me over to the care of a broad-shouldered man who obviously had the role of a bodyguard.
“Prince Oghenekohwo is expecting you,”
He said curtly, and led me over a long corridor in the back yard of the house. He knocked and opened the door.
In the middle of the room stood a tall, good-looking man about forty years old in a dark suit with a white shirt and white tie. His long, slightly curly hair was combed back, and his eyes had a small tinge of yellow. Prince Oghenekohwo moved toward me and heartily shook my hand.
"So you have come. I wasn’t sure you would, but you’ll see that’s it’s worthwhile for you. I’ve been searching for a Lloyd’s broker for a long time, but most of them don’t take seriously questions that come from black people, or they suppose there’s money laundering involved or other machinations. So I’m seriously pleased. You’re not an Englishman, I assume. All the better, the English haven’t forgotten the colonial period, and black people are for them the descendants of slaves.”
His face took on a contemptuous expression.
“I’m a direct descendant of the Bornu Empire, a state in the north-east of Nigeria that existed from 1380 till 1893 a predecessor of todays' Nigeria, until it was finally absorbed by British Rule. But I don’t want to bore you with history that would be completely foreign to you."
Obviously he was now a US citizen - as most likely his forebears immigrated in the past and found refuge in the United States -
who knows, it was not my business to dwell on the subject. In any case his roots went back to a nation, that no longer existed and it was more than doubtful that there were many people left, who shared the same history, traditions and language. Yet he was still a prince - but a Prince left to the memory of history, I thought.
240