Xala by Ousmane Sembène Page B

light crudely accentuated their features. The floor gave off a warm smell. Through the two facing doors the sky was full of stars. They could hear whispering outside. Someone came to take them to Sereen Mada. They crossed three enclosures before they reached him. He was waiting for them, seated on a mat on the ground. A paraffin lamp, standing a little way behind him, lit up his clothes from the back. Sereen Mada himself merged with the darkness.
    â€˜Bismilax.’
    He invited them to sit down on a mat facing him.
    Modu, familiar with the correct etiquette, had removed his shoes and with both hands devoutly shook and kissed Sereen Mada’s hand. El Hadji ostentatiously imitated him. After a lengthy exchange of courtesies Sereen Mada apologised unctuously. An urgent affair had required his presence. As soon as he had returned he had gone to ‘visit’ them. They were asleep. Sleep is good for the body. A pity it makes us forget Yalla. He himself no longer slept.
    He addressed Modu:
    â€˜Are the intentions healthy that have guided your step to this humble concession?’

    â€˜Healthy intentions only, master. Seated here before you is my employer. He is also more than a friend. He has been suffering from a xala for weeks, months. This xala alone brings us to you. We have come humbly as your followers to beg for your benevolent assistance.’
    Modu gave details about the life of his ‘more-than-a-friend’, as if he were the client. El Hadji grunted confirmation of what his employee said.
    â€˜This kind of curse is very complicated. Very complicated. You must realize that knowledge of such things is like a well. Wells don’t all have the same depth and their water does not have the same taste. This sort of curse is my speciality. But only Yalla can do anything about it. I shall try but you must pray with me. Let us beg for Yalla’s gentle intercession.’
    When he had finished speaking he called one of his disciples, who emerged from the dark, near the main hut. The master whispered something to him. The lad went out. Addressing the patient Sereen Mada told him what his fee would be and said that a heifer would be needed for the sacrifice. The fee was agreed. El Hadji had no cash on him. Sereen Mada knew what a cheque was. By the light of the lamp El Hadji wrote one out for him. El Hadji’s fellow businessmen settled with him in the same manner. The disciple returned with a cloth, which Sereen Mada said he had obtained from the Holy One who lived a long, long way from there, near the foothills of the Atlas mountains. He instructed El Hadji to remove all his clothes, including his greegrees. After a moment’s hesitation El Hadji undressed. ‘Fortunately it is dark,’ he thought. The marabout made him lie on his back and covered him up to the neck with the cloth. Crouching near the prostrate man’s head he said his beads.
    El Hadji listened to the clicking of the beads as they fell at regular intervals onto one another. He looked up at the curved roof. Suddenly he felt as if he were on edge. A long-forgotten sensation made him break into bursts of shivering. It was as if sap was rising violently inside his body, running through its fibres and filling it right to his burning head. It went on coming in waves. Then he had the impression that he was being emptied. Slowly he relaxed and a liquid flowed through his veins towards his legs. All his being now became concentrated in the region of his loins. It caused an effervescence which startled him. Shakily his penis rose by degrees until it was stiff. Lifting
his head and craning his neck, he looked down at it where it was covered by the cloth.
    â€˜Modu! Modu! Look!’ he cried, overcome with astonishment.
    â€˜ Alhamdoullilah !’ exclaimed Modu with immense satisfaction, as if it was he himself who was being cured.
    Sereen Mada passed the palm of his hand over El Hadji’s scalp and face. His soft hand smelt