Short
Story 5
Robert and the Dog
by Ken Saro-Wiwa
Robert’s new employer was a young medical doctor just returned from abroad.
He was cheerful, exuberant and polite. It was obvious to Robert that he had not
been in the country for a long time. Because he did not once lose his temper,
he did not shout at Robert, he called him by his first name, and always asked
him about his wife, children and other members of his family. Robert,
accustomed to moving from household to household, thought he had at last found
fulfillment. The more so as the young doctor appeared to be a bachelor.
Stewards, including Robert, prefer to serve a bachelor. Because every
bachelor is as wax in the hands of his steward. The latter determines what is
to be spent on grocery, how much food is to be served at meal times, what is to
be done with the remnants of food. In short, he holds the bachelor’s life in
his hands. And that is tremendous power.
Robert quickly settled into his new situation and took full control of the
house. Experience had taught him never to occupy the servant’s quarters, which
were attached to the main house. It made dismissals or the abandonment of a
situation rather messy. So it was that Robert’s family lived in the filth and
quagmire of Ajegunle, which the wags termed ‘The Jungle’. In his one-bedroom
apartment in The Jungle, Robert was king. And he always repaired there nightly
to exercise his authority over his wife and six children. The experience he had
gained in running his household helped him a great deal in organising the life
of each new employer. Robert was particularly happy in his new situation
because the young man was carefree and happy. There was, as has been said, no
wife breathing down Robert’s neck and limiting his abundant authority. There
were no children whose nappies and numerous clothes had to b e washed. He did
not have to cook several meals a day. The young man ate but once a day, except
for the cup of coffee and toast early in the morning.
Trouble began when the young man announced after six months that his wife
was about to join him. Robert’s face fell visibly at the announcement. But he
did not worry very much at the expected curtailment of his wide powers. Who
knew, the lady might not be an ogre after all.
Which is precisely what happened in the event. The lady was as young and
cheerful as her husband. She, too, took an interest in Robert. She was European
and excited about her first visit to Africa. She appeared pleased to have
Robert’s assistance. She spent the day asking Robert about African food,
watching Robert at work in the kitchen and lending a helping hand where
possible. She made sure Robert stopped work early so that he could get home to
his family, and she did not make a fuss if Robert turned up late some odd
mornings. And she got Robert paid every fortnight. She even offered to go and
visit his wife and family in The Jungle. Robert carefully and politely turned
down her offer. He could not imagine her picking her neat way through the filth
and squalor of The Jungle to the hovel which was his home. Maybe, he thought,
if she once knew where he lived and sampled the mess that was his home, her
regard for him would diminish and he might lose his job. Yet the young lady
extended every consideration to him. Robert began to feel like a human being,
and he felt extremely grateful to his new employers.
The only source of worry in the new situation was the dog. For the young
lady had arrived with a dog called Bingo. And Robert watched with absolute
amazement and great incredulity as the lady spoke tenderly to the dog. She
ensured that he was well fed with tinned food and milk and meat and bones. And
she held the dog lovingly in her arms, brushed his hair and tended him
carefully. The dog appeared as important to the lady as her husband and, indeed,
Robert thought, in the order of things, the dog was more important than
himself. Try as hard as he might, he could not dismiss from his mind the fact
that the dog was doing better than himself. And he detested this state of
affairs. He could understand a dog being invited to eat up an infant’s faeces.
He could understand a stray, mangy dog with flies around its ears being beaten
and chased away from the dwellings of men. He could understand a dog wandering
around rubbish heaps in search of sustenance. But a dog who slept on the
settee, a dog who was fed tinned food on a plate, a dog who was brushed and
cleaned, a dog who drank good tinned milk, was entirely beyond his
comprehension. On one occasion, the lady took the dog to a doctor. And that was
the straw that broke the camel’s back.
All that day, Robert felt his stomach turn. and when he got home in the
evening and saw his children, with distended stomachs, gambolling in the filth
that simmered in a swollen stream at his door, and watched them hungrily
swallow small balls of eba, he asked himself, ‘Who born dog?’ And all of
a sudden he developed a pathological hatred for Bingo the dog, his master’s
dog. All night long, he saw in the eye of his mind, the dog cuddled in the
warmth of the settee, which he would have to clean and brush in the morning.
And he asked himself again and again, ‘Who born dog?’
The object of Robert’s hatred was totally oblivious of the feelings that he
bred in the cook-steward. He revelled in the love of his master and mistress.
He ate his food with relish and wagged his tail in contented gratitude. He
loved and served the lady, doing as he was bid. And he wagged his tail
contentedly at Robert. He slept in the day and kept watch over his owners at
night. But each wag of his tail was like so many pinpricks in the heart of
Robert, who secretly vowed to ‘show’ the dog some day.
That day duly arrived and much sooner than Robert had expected. The young
doctor announced to him that they would be going away on holiday for six weeks.
He wanted Robert to take care of the house. As they would not be travelling
with the dog, he would be most delighted if Robert would be kind enough to take
care of Bingo. They were going to leave enough tinned food and milk for Bingo
and some money so Robert could purchase bones to supplement his food. He hoped
Robert did not mind.
Not in the least, Robert replied. But in his innermost heart, he knew he
had found the opportunity he wanted.
After the departure of the couple, Robert, true to his training, obeyed his
master’s orders to the letter. On the first and second days. On the third day,
watching the dog lap his milk from a plate, a voice spoke to Robert. ‘who born
dog?’ And to this ponderous question, Robert could find no other answer than
‘Dog’. And the anger in him welled. He looked at the dog, and the dog looked at
him, wagging his tail. ‘Well may you wag your tail,’ Robert thought, ‘but I can
tell you, I’m not going to waste my life taking care of you.’
He gathered up all the tins of dog food, all the tins of milk, tethered the
dog to the settee and walked off, out of the house and the job he had loved to
do. He gave the milk and dog food to his children when he got home.
And the dog died.
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