I heard Mama go back into the living room. I don’t know what she told the administrator or the boys and I didn’t much care. I heard them bring in more stuff with Mama giving instructions, “Just leave that there for now”, “I’ll look through later”, “That should go to the storeroom”. They left my things in front of my door. I heard them coming and going, moving through the house. I heard them hammering and knocking things into place. They assembled my bed but left it outside the door. They assembled Mama’s bed too. They finished bringing in everything at 9 p.m. I heard Mama thank the boys and the administrator profusely for their help. She told them to forget about replacing the vase. Any other person I know would have called it a night. Anyone else would have been exhausted from the move, the drive and the packing, anyone else but not Mama. Mama isn’t anyone. The plan had been to put everything away today and she would make sure it was all done so she could tick it off her list before she went to bed. She started unpacking right away. I knew it was too much work for one person but I also knew Mama would be able to do it all without asking me for help.

The only reason I left my room later that night was because I was hungry and thirsty. I found her in the kitchen, putting the plates and pans away. She barely looked up when I entered. She pointed at the microwave, which she had found a space for on top of one of the counters. It was already plugged into a socket. In the microwave was one of the takeout packs she had brought in earlier. I transferred the food onto a plate and heated it.

“There’s juice in the fridge,” she said when the microwave beeped. I carried my plate of vegetable rice, grilled tilapia and glass of pineapple juice to my room.

After eating, I dragged my mattress in and placed it on the floor. I changed my colostomy bag, brushed my teeth and washed my face. I was so tired I didn’t even do that properly. I only managed to remove my jeans before I collapsed onto the mattress. In minutes I was dead to the world. I vaguely remember Mama coming in and covering me with a cloth but at the time I thought I was dreaming.

*****

“Kicks coming up in three . . . two . . . one . . . and kick . . . kick . . . kick. There you go! Remember to suck in your belly to your spine. Make sure your hips and shoulders are aligned. That’s the perfect spinal alignment. I want you to stand tall and walk tall. Great posture is so important! Kick . . . kick . . . kick.”

I woke up to the sound of Mama’s aerobics instructor. It was past noon. I knew exactly where I was and the sinking feeling I had had the previous day returned.

My phone beeped. A WhatsApp message.

Hey girl watz up? How’s Soga? Y r u nt replyng?

It was a new message from Sofi. She and Dede had already sent seven messages.

Just woke up. Will call l8r.

I got out of bed and went to pee. The door to Mama’s room was open. She waved when she saw me.

“Sleep well?”

“Okay.”

“We’ll pass by your uncle’s house later, okay?” she panted.

Sweat dripped down her face. I shrugged and went back to my room. She wasn’t expecting an answer from me because she hadn’t asked a question. She had simply informed me of where I would be and what we would be doing later that day. That was the plan for the day. I dragged in my suitcase and started unpacking my clothes. When Mama finished her work-out she helped me drag in my bed. She went to take a shower while I finished unpacking my clothes, shoes and books.

Three hours later we were on the road to my uncle’s house.

I could count the number of times I had met this uncle on one hand. One of my Father’s traditions had been to travel to his hometown every Easter holiday and occasionally for weekends or entire weeks when there was a funeral or some other family gathering. Mama and I never went with him. He had said we would feel left out because we didn’t speak Ewe. Mama pulled up in front of a house that was by the banks of the river. A man and woman came out of the house before we got out of the car. I had seen my uncle briefly during Daddy’s funeral. He looked like a fatter version of Daddy. He was completely bald. He approached us with outstretched arms and a huge smile on his face.

“Mia woezor loo!” he called out.

“Yoo,” Mama said laughing and I could see her relax.

My uncle enfolded her in a hug. Then it was the turn of the woman who was by his side. I assumed she was his wife.

“Yayra efo?” he asked and hugged me too.

I looked to Mama who translated, “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” I said to my uncle.

“You say ‘Ee’,” my aunt said.

“Now that you are here you have to learn the language o. Your father did not try koraa. But we will teach you. In one year you will be rattling Ewe like water, okay?”

I nodded.

“Good, good. Let’s go inside,” he said, leading the way into their house.

Once we were seated indoors, my aunt got us water to drink. I might not have known how to speak Ewe but I knew it would be rude to refuse to drink. That was a universal Ghanaian tradition. I took a sip from my glass. Mama emptied her glass. She was a firm advocate of regenerative health—food is medicine; water is medicine; sleep is medicine; rest is medicine and even exercise is medicine. I could hear Edem’s ‘Over again’, playing from somewhere farther in the house.

“Yoo, you are welcome. Our home is peaceful,” my uncle said when my aunt came back after taking the glasses away.

“We just wanted you to know we have arrived. We came yesterday,” Mama said.

“We thank God,” uncle said. Then he turned to me, “Do you know me?” He didn’t even wait for an answer before going on. “I’m your uncle, Larweh, your father’s older brother. This is my wife, Daavi Charity. Everyone calls her Auntie Cee. We couldn’t get to talk to you much after the funeral. You are very welcome here. If you need anything, anything at all, let us know. You are our daughter.”

Auntie Cee who all this while had been beaming at me said “Your cousin, Sam, is in his room studying. He‘’s not very good at maths so Efo said he better start revising before school starts tomorrow. He’s also at Sogasco. You can go and say hello.”