Saturday, March 1, 2014

To Do List:

1. ?

I had no idea what the day held in store for me and that left me feeling unsettled. Chidi had been right. When I asked Dad if I could accompany Chidi to Accra he’d said I could if I wanted to, which more or less meant it was up to me to decide. Chidi had had a smug look on his face and said I was to be ready by 7 a.m.

He was at our door at 6:30 a.m. probably to make sure I hadn’t changed my mind. Sarfoa asked if she could come along and this time it was Chidi who told her she couldn’t. Dad gave me 200 cedis.

“What for?” I asked.

“In case you want to get something. Things in Accra are expensive.”

Of course, when Dad gave me the money he had to give Sarfoa some too. He gave her a five cedi note and she went to put it in her susu box and to calculate how much money she had in there.

Chidi drove us to the airport and we checked in. By 8:20 a.m. we’d boarded the plane. Chidi put his backpack in the overhead compartment and we strapped ourselves in. He gave me a sweet as the plane began taxiing on the runway.

“It helps with your ears,” he said.

I was very scared. I had real butterflies in my stomach. These might have been some mutant strain of butterflies because I was on the verge of throwing up my breakfast and having diarrhoea. I became even more anxious when an air hostess demonstrated safety instructions. Chidi linked his fingers through mine.

“Do you know the joke about the three drunks?” he asked as the plane began its ascent. I felt my stomach drop and clutched his hand tighter. I shook my head.

“There were three drunks by the roadside trying to flag a taxi. A taxi driver noticed them and stopped his car. They all piled in. The driver noticed right away that they were drunk. ‘We’re going to Kejetia,’ one of them said. The driver had picked them up at Bantama. The driver started the engine and revved it loudly. He did this like four or five times and then he told them they were at Kejetia. Two of them got down and gave him the fare not realizing they were still in Bantama. The third got down, he came to the driver’s side and gave him a big slap. The driver didn’t say anything because he thought he had been found out. Then the man dug into his pocket and pulled out a one cedi note and threw it at him. ‘That’s your money. The slap was for overspeeding.’”

I laughed. Chidi smiled and squeezed my fingers once more. I looked out the window at the cotton candy-like clouds and the buildings which looked like something out of a child’s play set. I turned back to Chidi to ask something and saw he was asleep. I wondered if he’d gone to the zoo again. He woke up just before we touched down in Accra.

We took a taxi to a house in Cantonments where he met his Dad’s friend. She worked in a private hospital. Chidi spent about two hours with her while I waited in the reception. He was subdued when he came out and wouldn’t tell me what test had been done only that it involved a big needle. We took another taxi to the Accra Mall and window-shopped. At least I did, Chidi got himself a packet of Cadbury’s Dairy Milk chocolates and two bottles of lucozade and sat on a bench.

“No more coke?”

“I’ve been feeling really tired,” he said.

Chidi hired a taxi to take us through the city. So for the first time I saw all the places I’d only seen on TV—the Flagstaff house, Independence Square, Flagstaff House, 37 Military Hospital, National Theatre, and Efua Sutherland Children’s Park. We had lunch at Frankie’s on Oxford Street. We both had chicken and chips and had éclairs for dessert. He sat on another bench while I walked down the length of Oxford Street and got Dad and Chidi shirts from Woodin. I got Sarfoa an assortment of hair accessories and I got myself a pair of beaded sandals.

“What time does our flight leave?” I asked.

“5:30. We have to check in by 5.”

It was just 1 p.m. “Can we go to the La Beach?”

“Sure,” Chidi said and stopped a taxi to take us there.