1??????????Soul Bound
1.2????????Taking Control
1.2.5??????An Idiosyncratic Interlude
1.2.5.3????Family favours
She related the tale of the Great Lokum Negotiation to Gorana, Bahrudin’s grand-daughter, who shook her head.
Gorana: “Well, he was accurate about one thing. The old goat is stubborn. He forgot to add, though, that he’s also out-dated, inflexible and that it never occurs to him that the women in his family don’t exist just to do whatever he tells them to do. Just like the rest of the men in this village, in fact.”
Kafana asked, cautiously: “He’s not easy to share a house with?”
She didn’t get another word in. After 15 minutes of the rant that followed, as they cleaned up after lunch, Nadine gathered that Gorana and Bahrudin got on like tomcats in a room with just one comfortable sunbeam. Normally Merjem, Bahrudin’s wife, directed the women of the village with calm efficiency and handled it with grace (and varying amounts of sarcasm) when Bahrudin listened politely then went ahead and did whatever he had been going to do.
However, in the absence of Spiridon (Gorana’s father), Bahrudin felt obliged to fill in, trying to lay down the law when it came to which young men Gorana could or could not spend time with, how late she could stay out and (according to Gorana) the precise number of strokes she needed to use when brushing her teeth.
Nadine was saved from further ranting by the sounds of the DDF preparing to depart for their practice session, which enabled her to claim that she had planned to attend.
Gorana: “Good. Could I ask you to take a chair along for him? His leg isn’t strong and he’s too proud to look after it properly, but he won’t be able to refuse if you ask him to keep you company.”
In the end, as they all trudged along the stony paths between the houses, it was Vedad who ended up carrying the pair of folding chairs she produced, despite the fact she was perfectly capable of carrying her own. It would make him lose face if she insisted, and feeling useful would be good for his self-esteem. At least all the training he did for soccer gave him strong muscles. She drew Bahrudin to one side and let the others get a bit ahead.
Nadine: “Elder Bahrudin, what do you think of Vedad’s chances of getting onto the local professional soccer team this season?”
Bahrudin sighed. “He doesn’t have a chance without patronage from someone on the selection committee. He didn’t go to school with them, he doesn’t have a father who can get jobs for the committee member’s children as anything other than farmers, he doesn’t have a massive social media following. About the only thing going for him is that he’s actually good at playing soccer.”
Nadine: “That should be enough. Why is his social media following even relevant?”
Bahrudin: “Officials in a position to do favours are in a competition too. They want promotion to jobs that put them in a position to do even more valuable favours. But to gain a promotion like that, it is useful to have a reputation as more than just a toad who does nothing more than squat in the path selling access to the highest bidder - they want to be seen as a toad who gets things done. In the case of football team selection committee members, that means they don’t want to be known as the sponsor of a player who turns out to be the worst on the team and gets blamed for it failing.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Nadine’s face screwed up like she’d bitten into an apple, only to find half a worm. “Is that it? Anyone will do, just as long as they’re not even worse than the other committee picks?”
Bahrudin considered the question judicially: “No, ideally our toad would like at least one of their picks to turn out to be the star of the team, and for all their choices to at least sound plausible. The higher the average competence of their picks, the greater the scope they have to get away with selecting at least one terrible player who is blackmailing them or offering a truly lucrative bribe, and then sticking them on the reserves bench all season.”
Nadine: “Then social media…?”
Bahrudin: “A good social media presence doesn’t just offer popularity to our toad, it also provides security - a bunch of people who will exclaim ‘Oh no, toadie has a good eye for talent and picks on merit; he selected our guy, for example. It was probably just a coincidence that his niece’s husband looked so promising but then didn’t develop into his true potential.’. “
Nadine: “Ah, I understand. Thank you, Elder Bahrudin.”
They were near the outskirts of the village now, passing a group of women gossiping about their plans for Al-Jumuah, the Islamic day of rest, which was on the morrow. It could have been a scene from a hundred years ago, or even five hundred. Time touched lightly on places such as this. Would it ever change?
Nadine: “Gorana is working out very nicely as a choice for the kafana, don’t you think?”
Bahrudin: “Speaking as your new assistant manager, I would agree.”
Nadine raised an eyebrow. “But if you were speaking as a grandfather, to a friend whom you have known for years and who would hold your views in confidence?”
Bahrudin chuckled, and swiped a hemp plant with his cane, that had escaped its field to live life as a weed: brief but free.
Bahrudin: “She takes after my daughter, Sumeja: proud, idealistic and headstrong. You know the population of Bosnia is less than half what it was fourty years ago? The ambitious ones all leave, and they do not return until they are ready to retire. The children the ambitious ones have while far afield never get to put down roots here - they rarely return at all.”
She nodded, and he continued.
Bahrudin: “I do not think she will work at Kafana Sabanagic for more than a few years, certainly not more than five. But in the meantime, she will learn a great deal from you and from the experience.”
Nadine: “I’m not sure she will stay five weeks, if you leave her feeling that you do not respect her right to decide for herself who is or is not worthy of her attentions. There are several empty houses here, that are not yet too run down. Have you thought about letting her have a place of her own, where she doesn’t feel as though she is under constant surveillance?”
Bahrudin: “Thought about it? I already have one picked out. But she will value it more if it is her idea, and something she wins by demanding it, rather than it being a gift from me.”
Nadine: “And your acting like an ogre over male visitors?”
Bahrudin: “If I really wanted to put her off seeing someone, all I’d need to do would be to praise them to the highest heavens. No, the act is for the visitors. If they think I’m an ogre, they will respect her more; and if they think I believe she deserves better than any of them, the ones who are truly interested in her will work hard to prove me wrong.”
Nadine shook her head to herself. They obviously both cared about each other. There had to be a better means of communicating than this. Did change ever come?