by
Wole Soyinka
A Nigerian poet and playwright, born at Abeokuta, Nigeria, in 1935.
Studied at University College, Ibadan, and read for an English Honours degree at Leeds University. He
returned to Nigeria in 1960, and is now on the staff of the University of Ife. His plays have been
produced by the Masks Dramatic Group in Ibadan, and two of them, A Dance of The Forests and The
Lion and the Jewel, have been published by the Oxford University Press (1963).
The price seemed reasonable, location
Indifferent. The landlady swore she lived
Off premises. Nothing remained
But self-confession. 'Madam,' I warned,
'I hate a wasted journey-I am-African.'
Silence. Silenced transmission of
Pressurised good-breeding. Voice, when it came,
Lip-stick coated, long gold-rolled
Cigarette-holder pipped. Caught I was, foully.
'HOW DARK?'. . . I had not misheard. . . ARE YOU
LIGHT 10
OR VERY DARK?' Button B. Button A. Stench
Of rancid breath of public-hide-and-speak.
Red booth. Red pillar-box. Red double-tiered
Omnibus squelching tar. It was real! Shamed
By ill-mannered silence, surrender
Pushed dumbfoundment to beg simplification.
Considerate she was, varying the emphasis-
ARE YOU DARK? OR VERY LIGHT?' Revelation came.
'You mean-like plain or milk chocolate?'
Her assent was clinical, crushing in its light 20
Impersonality. Rapidly, wave-length adjusted,
I chose, 'West African sepia'-and as an afterthought,
'Down in my passport.' Silence for spectroscopic
Flight of fancy, till truthfulness clanged her accent
Hard on the mouthpiece. 'WHAT'S THAT?' conceding
'DON'T KNOW WHAT THAT IS.' 'Like brunette.'
'THAT'S DARK ISN'T IT?' 'Not altogether.
'Facially, I am brunette, but madam, you should see
The rest of me. Palm of my hand, soles of my feet
Are a peroxide blond. Friction, caused- 30
Foolishly madam-by sitting down, has turned
My bottom raven black-One moment madam!'-sensing
Her receiver rearing on the thunder clap
About my ears-'Madam,' I pleaded, 'Wouldn't you rather
See for yourself?'
An African is looking for accommodation in London where those who let rooms are sometimes unwilling or reluctant to take Africans. In London people of all shades of colour are found and racial prejudice is sometimes stronger against people of darker skin-colour. This comic poem tells of the poet's embarrassment at being asked how dark he is, and how he was able to repay the landlady's rudeness.
II. Button A. Button B.: the poet in his embarrassment stares about him, at the telephone controls, at the public telephone box from which he is calling, at a pillar box outside and at a passing bus.
23-24. spectroscopic flight of fancy: consideration or analysis in the mind of different shades of colour.