“Good morning, sleep well?” Mama was on her knees, taping a box closed.

I mumbled a reply and headed downstairs to the kitchen. She had bought me waakye, with all the trimmings, even two pieces of wele. I appreciated the gesture but I wished she wouldn’t try so hard to pretend we were okay, to pretend that life was perfect, to pretend that a third person was not missing from our midst. She followed me into the kitchen and made a half-hearted attempt to get me excited about the move, but I ignored her. She settled for watching me eat instead, like she had never seen food enter a person’s mouth and disappear down their throat.

“I wish we didn’t have to move too.”

“Then tell them to stop. Tell them to put our things back.” I nearly choked on my food. I was afraid that I was going to cry.

“We can‘t stay here anymore. The lease is almost up and I honestly can’t afford to pay for another three years. Besides, this is a great opportunity for us”. A great opportunity for you. We’ve had this conversation a thousand times already.

Nothing I said now was going to make her change her mind.

“It’s a great opportunity for you too,” Mama said as if she could read my thoughts. “You’ll meet new people, make new friends. It’s a fresh start for both of us. Please try and be happy about it.”

“Madam, ah beg, come see somtin,” one of the workers called from the doorway.

Mama got up and followed him out. Mama claimed we were broke. It had been Daddy who had taken care of our finances. She said somehow their savings had disappeared out of their joint bank account. There wasn’t any money to renew the lease on the house or to pay fees for the private school I attended. I knew she was lying and I hated her for it. Blame the dead guy who wasn’t there to defend himself. The only reason we were moving was because she had finally got the job of her dreams. She was going to become the medical superintendent of the district hospital in Sogakofe. The fact that she was the first female to hold that position only added to the allure of the job.

She had always wanted to be in an upper management position. It was why she had taken long-distance courses and used her annual leave for sandwich programmes. She was so excited about the job offer I couldn’t believe she was the same woman who had buried her husband less than a year ago. How do you bounce right back into life without mourning a man you spent twenty years of your life with? Apart from the step up in salary, the other benefits that came with the job were—a three bedroom bungalow; water, electricity and phone bills paid by the hospital; and a monthly allowance that was almost half her current salary. She didn’t care that I knew no one in Sogakofe or that it was hard enough that people in a neighbourhood I had spent all my life in still stared at my face and my left hand and whispered all sorts of things behind my back. What would people I didn’t know do? She didn’t care that I’d have to repeat a class and be in a class full of juniors I didn’t even know. She cared only about her stupid job and making more money.

*****

I was still eating, when my two best friends, Dede Odartey and Sophia Asare, walked into the kitchen. Dede was in jeans, a tie-and-dye T-shirt and black ballet flats. I know that even if I live to be a hundred, I’ll never see her in a dress or a skirt. Sofi was in a three-sister African print patchwork dress with blue platform shoes. She also had on a long, multi-coloured bead necklace, about six bracelets on one wrist, a charm watch-bracelet on the other and long, pink, spiral earrings. She was wearing purple lip gloss and metallic-silver eye shadow. Sofi is attracted to colour the way nails are attracted to a magnet. All three of us have been best friends ever since kindergarten. I felt a lump build in my throat.

“So you’re really going,” Dede said, pulling up a chair and sitting down.

“Mmm hmm,” I said, not trusting myself to speak.

“I wish you didn’t have to,” Sofi said. She washed her hands at the sink and started eating with me. That’s how close we are. She doesn’t even have to ask to be invited before she starts eating.

“I wish I didn’t have to too.”

“Mmm. Is this Auntie Memuna’s waakye? Today’s tastes even better than usual.

Sogakofe can’t be that bad, I hear they have lots of grilled tilapia there.” For Sofi, food cured every problem. She writes a fashion and food blog. It was nice to know that Sofi had heard about the local cuisine of the town. If she knew about their food, then the town couldn’t be as bad as I expected it to be.

The first time I’d told my friends in school I was leaving to go to Sogakofe, Nana Ama Attakyia, a stuck-up girl in my class had asked if Sogakofe was in Togo. She and her friends had called me ‘Losty’ from the first day I set foot in the high school. My name, Yayra, sounds like ‘ya yera’ which is Twi for ‘we are lost’.

Though I had explained time and time again that my name was Ewe and not Twi, Nana Ama and her friends gave me no peace.

“So who’ll win the National Maths and Science Quiz for us this year?” Dede and I had both been in the maths and science club. I’m not blowing my own horn or anything but I’m really good in mathematics. I can even do some quadratic equations, differentiations and integrations in my head without working them out on paper. Last two years, though I was only in Form One; I was part of the squad my school sent for the National Maths and Science Quiz. We got all our maths answers correct. All of them. Daddy was so proud. He was the maths coach of the team. We’ve won the competition two years in a row. If we win, or rather if Higher Heights International School wins this year, they’ll get to keep the trophy.

“Won’t it be amazing if I get picked to join the team this year?” Dede asked.

“Amazing,” Sofi said dryly and rolled her eyes. She’s an arts student. She has enough problems with core maths and can’t understand how Dede and I chose additional maths over biology.

“You stand a good chance,” I said ignoring Sofi.

“In my dreams,” Dede said good-naturedly, “the one who stands a good chance is Bobby.”

Sofi smacked her and they both turned to look at me. It’s amazing how just hearing his name caused my heart to beat faster. Bobby Laryea was my boyfriend. I had had a crush on him from the first day I stepped in Higher Heights. I‘d seen him only three times since the accident.

“Has he been here?” Dede asked ignoring a glare from Sofi. I shook my head.

“Maybe he’s busy,” I mumbled. I got up to wash my hands and dried them on my jeans. Mama had packed the napkins. Sofi snorted.

“Busy being an idiot,” Dede said under her breath, but I pretended not to hear her.

“Does he know you’re leaving today?” This time it was Sofi who asked the question. She took the empty plate and rinsed it out at the sink. Mama had also packed the sponge and Sunlight liquid soap.

“He sent a WhatsApp message,” I said.

Dede rolled her eyes.

Sofi asked, “Are you defending him?”

“No, he just . . . maybe it’s a little too much for him. He really liked Dad and . . . maybe my face . . . maybe the way I look . . .”

“What‘s wrong with you? You lost your Dad. You were in that accident. You almost died and it’s a little too much for him?” Dede said.

“Can we not talk about this please?”

Dede rolled her eyes again. Sofi studied her nails. Each fingernail was painted a different colour. She hoped to be a fashion designer someday, so naturally, it was she who asked, “Have you seen your new school uniform? I hope it’s cool.”

“It’s okay,” I said, glad that she’d changed the subject. “A green pinafore with a white shirt.” At Higher Heights, girls had worn navy blue skirts and light blue sleeveless shirts.

“I hope you’ve had it altered. You don’t want to show up on your first day looking like a tree.

“Yeah, Mama had her seamstress alter it. I’m glad the shirt has sleeves.” They both nodded and I knew they understood. I hadn’t worn a sleeveless dress, shirt or tank top since the accident. The looks on their faces weren’t looks of pity. I had had enough of those looks from people when I got discharged from the hospital.

People had looked at me with a mix of pity and sorrow. Like they hadn’t known what was worse — that I had lost my Dad or that I had survived the accident looking the way I did.

“You’ve got to send us pictures of the school and your classroom, your new house, everything . . .” Dede said.

“I will, but only of the house and of me in the uniform. We’re not allowed to have phones on the campus. It’s an instant two week suspension. It was in the rulebook that came with the prospectus.”

“You can‘t take a phone to school?”

“Nope.”

“What sort of nonrational rule is that?” Sofi asked.

“Sofi, I don’t think ‘nonrational’ is a word,” Dede said.

“Duh? ‘Non’ is a word. ‘Rational’ is a word. Nonrational is a word. But that’s not the point. That rule is stupid.”

“Well, it’s their school and it’s their rules and I guess you just have to abide by them. You can’t wear jewellery apart from watches and stud-earrings and you can’t wear nail polish or lip gloss.”

“Those rules are all non” Sofi began.

“Rational,” the three of us said together and started laughing.

“I guess it’s a good thing we got you this then,” Dede said. Sofi reached into her bag and brought out a blue case with a pink bow. I knew what it was before I even opened it. I removed the bow and opened the case. Nestling on a pillow inside it was a watch. It was not just any ordinary watch but a type where I could change the straps and the faces depending on the colour I wanted. There were six different coloured leather straps, six plain coloured rims and six rims inlaid with different coloured stones. I had lusted after this watch for months.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I cried and hugged them both knowing they must have had to use almost all their savings to get it for me. “I’ve wanted this since . . . since . . . forever!”

“We’re really going to miss you,” Dede whispered hugging me again. Then Sofi who was fighting hard to keep back her tears joined in and we had a three-way hug.

“Me too,” I said knowing I was going to miss them more. At least they had each other. I had no one.

***

Tell us what you think: Do you think Yayra’s boyfriend left her because she looked different after the accident? What do you think of him not contacting her after the accident?