Friday, February 28, 2014
To Do List:
- School
Chidi was early the next morning. Sarfoa and I were still having our breakfast when Dad came into the kitchen to say Chidi had arrived. It was just past 6:50 a.m.
“What does ‘observice are war-ride’ mean?” Sarfoa asked as I was closing the gate.
“What?”
She pointed to the back of Chidi’s car. He had had it washed.
On the rear windscreen were stickers like those found on taxis.
“It’s observers are worried,” I said and smiled.
“Thanks,” I said when I sat down.
He smiled back at me and we set off. We got to school really early and he gave me a new Sudoku puzzle.
“When do I hand it in?”
“Whenever you want.”
“The deadlines make it more interesting.”
“I assure you there are more interesting things than Sudoku puzzles,” he said taking my hand.
“Like what?”
“Well, the Cultural Centre.”
“I’ve been there lots of times.”
“I don’t mean to pick Sarfoa up, to look around.”
“I’ve been to the library there.”
“And where else?”
I shrugged.
“They have galleries and shops and a museum that’s a replica of the Manhyia palace. Have you even been to the Manhyia palace?”
I shook my head.
“Bosomtwe?”
I shook my head.
“The military museum? You do know that was where the Sargrenti war was fought and where Yaa Asantewaa was imprisoned before she was sent to the Seychelles? Life is passing you by, you know.”
“I just don’t have the time.”
“Oh, come on, you go to the Cultural Centre almost every Saturday. The army museum is right in the centre of town. What would an hour out of your day do to you? It’s almost as if you’re scared to have fun.”
“That’s not true.”
“Prove it. Go with me to Accra tomorrow.”
“For what?”
“My dad wants me to do one more test.” I frowned.
“But your cold is gone.”
“I know but it’s just a precaution and it would make him happy. And he said I could ask you to go with me.”
“It’s four hours there and four hours back.”
“It will be thirty-five minutes there and thirty-five minutes back.”
“You’re flying?”
“We’re flying.”
“I haven’t been on a plane before.”
“First time for everything.”
“I haven’t even been to Accra before.”
He looked at me in surprise. “How’s that even possible?”
“The farthest south I’ve been is to Konongo. I was born in Sunyani. I grew up in Tamale. We moved to Kumasi three years ago. We—Mom, Dad, Sarfoa, and I were supposed to have gone to spend two weeks in Accra with Ntiriwa. Dad had made arrangements for accommodation and everything. They were just waiting for Sarfoa and me to vacate so we could go and visit Ntiriwa and then she drowned and of course we didn’t go again.”
“So would you?”
“I don’t know. I just can’t leave like that, not when we have a major exam in almost a month.”
“For once in your life do something spontaneous. Something that’s not on your list. Where’s your sense of adventure? I promise you’ll have fun and it’s just for a day.”
I still wasn’t convinced.
“I’ll have to ask my Dad.”
“And he’ll probably say it’s your decision to make.”
“Okay,” I finally said.
He actually hugged me. “You’ll love it, I promise.”
The siren sounded and we got out of the car. He took my hand my hand again.
“So you’ve been on many adventures?”
“Not many, but I’ve seen all the tourist attractions in Nigeria. My dad and I went on a Safari in Kenya in January and before that we went to see the pyramids in Egypt. Those were awesome. I’ve done the canopy walk at Kakum and been to the Cape Coast and Elmina Castles. We’ll climb Afadjato before I go back and then I’ll come for the paragliding at Kwahu.”
“Wow,” I said.
“It’s really fun. I’d like be a travel journalist.”
“Travel and write about places?”
“Yeah, won’t that be the life? You get paid to travel, eat different foods, take pictures and meet people.”
“So what’s the most disgusting food you’ve ever eaten? Apart from fufu with kontomire stew?”
“Not disgusting. Different but not disgusting. I had snake and crocodile meat in Kenya and ostrich, camel and quail in Egypt. Grilled bat in Kumasi.”
“You’ve had bat? The woman near the Cultural Centre?”
“I thought it was plantain and went to get some.”
“And when you saw it was bat you had it anyway?”
“Yeah.”
“What did it taste like?”
He shrugged and whispered, “Like bat meat, I guess. It was very bony.”
We were still holding hands as we entered the assembly hall.