roof. It was impossible for sunlight to come into the room through them.
“But, Fofo, when are we going to use the roofing sheets? Are you going to change the roof soon?”
Yewa came into the parlor and stood silently behind us, but we didn’t pay her any attention. My uncle’s fast and furious pace dictated the work, and our conversation seemed to only whet his appetite for speed.
“Don’t worry, de sheets are for our
ohò yóyó,
” Fofo Kpee said.
“New house?” I asked.
“Papa and Mama want build new house for us . . . cement house. Real
ohò dagbe.
”
“When are we going to see Papa and Mama?” Yewa cut in.
We stopped talking and turned to her for a while. She had come to show us her creations, which had fallen and broken. She carried the mess close to her heart, in open palms, like shattered pieces of a jewel. She said it was supposed to be a rider and a passenger on a Nanfang.
“In a few days we
dey
go Braffe . . . ,” Fofo Kpee said.
“No, I mean Papa and Mama of Gabon,” Yewa insisted. “I wanted to give this toy to Mama when she comes.”
“No worry, Mary,” said Fofo Kpee. “
Yi bayi dogó,
and no let dem break again. . . . Mama and Papa of Gabon
reviennent
soon.”
WHEN WE FINISHED , FOFO swept the parlor and gathered the wet mix that had fallen near the walls. I swept everything outside. Then Fofo sent me to buy huge quantities of
amala
and
ewedu
from the market. But when I came back and we sat down and began eating, Yewa refused to join us.
“I want Gabon food!” she announced, and stood up from the bed, her face twisted in defiance. Before anyone could respond, she walked to the threshold and slumped in annoyance. She started sobbing because she had hit her head on the new metal door frame. She sat there, in the open doorway, back to us, facing the ocean.
“Gabon food?” Fofo said, looking at me, scratching his head with his pinky because the rest of the fingers were soaked with
ewedu.
“
Wetin
be Gabon food, Mary?”
“Mama brought Gabon food,” Yewa cried. “I want Mama, I want Coke, I want macaroni. I am tired of
ewedu
and
amala.
”
“But de woman also bring pepper soup and
akasa
and crab soup,” Fofo argued. “Dem be Gabon food too?”
“She brought those ones for you and Big Guy,” Yewa said.
“Not true . . . Antoinette ate them too,” I said. “I ate them too.”
“
Kai,
we now get rich people problem,” Fofo said. “
Auparavant,
before now you
dey
eat everyting I give you, like a good goat. Now you want select?”
“Fofo Kpee, she’s not hungry,” I said, cupping
amala
into my fingers.
“I want Gabon food,” Yewa said, and shuffled her legs on the ground.
I continued to eat, paying no attention to her. But when I looked up at Fofo, I could see he was listening to her. “No way!” I said, wriggling deeper into the bed. “I’m not going anywhere!” I said this because I knew that if Fofo agreed with her, I would have to run back to the market to get the food for her. “You spoiled girl, get up from there,” I shouted. “Look at your head like Gabon food!”
“You’re stupid!” Yewa told me.
“Who’s stupid? Me?” I snarled.
Yewa spun around and bared her teeth, ready to bite me, which was what she did each time I hit her for being naughty. Even against the brighter background outside, I could see her smirk. I rushed toward her, but Fofo hooked the seat of my shorts with his fingers and yanked me back. I stumbled and kicked in his grasp. Yewa stood her ground and kept calling me names until Fofo told her to stop or she wouldn’t go to Gabon.
Yewa refused to come in or go out. Her eyes were swollen with unshed tears, which soon came flushing down her cheeks. The combination of her desire for what she called Gabon food and the threat that she might not go to Gabon upset her. She cried like she did when she had malaria and the quack doctor came to give her an injection in her bottom. Fofo started begging me not to beat her up,
“But, Fofo, when are we going to use the roofing sheets? Are you going to change the roof soon?”
Yewa came into the parlor and stood silently behind us, but we didn’t pay her any attention. My uncle’s fast and furious pace dictated the work, and our conversation seemed to only whet his appetite for speed.
“Don’t worry, de sheets are for our
ohò yóyó,
” Fofo Kpee said.
“New house?” I asked.
“Papa and Mama want build new house for us . . . cement house. Real
ohò dagbe.
”
“When are we going to see Papa and Mama?” Yewa cut in.
We stopped talking and turned to her for a while. She had come to show us her creations, which had fallen and broken. She carried the mess close to her heart, in open palms, like shattered pieces of a jewel. She said it was supposed to be a rider and a passenger on a Nanfang.
“In a few days we
dey
go Braffe . . . ,” Fofo Kpee said.
“No, I mean Papa and Mama of Gabon,” Yewa insisted. “I wanted to give this toy to Mama when she comes.”
“No worry, Mary,” said Fofo Kpee. “
Yi bayi dogó,
and no let dem break again. . . . Mama and Papa of Gabon
reviennent
soon.”
WHEN WE FINISHED , FOFO swept the parlor and gathered the wet mix that had fallen near the walls. I swept everything outside. Then Fofo sent me to buy huge quantities of
amala
and
ewedu
from the market. But when I came back and we sat down and began eating, Yewa refused to join us.
“I want Gabon food!” she announced, and stood up from the bed, her face twisted in defiance. Before anyone could respond, she walked to the threshold and slumped in annoyance. She started sobbing because she had hit her head on the new metal door frame. She sat there, in the open doorway, back to us, facing the ocean.
“Gabon food?” Fofo said, looking at me, scratching his head with his pinky because the rest of the fingers were soaked with
ewedu.
“
Wetin
be Gabon food, Mary?”
“Mama brought Gabon food,” Yewa cried. “I want Mama, I want Coke, I want macaroni. I am tired of
ewedu
and
amala.
”
“But de woman also bring pepper soup and
akasa
and crab soup,” Fofo argued. “Dem be Gabon food too?”
“She brought those ones for you and Big Guy,” Yewa said.
“Not true . . . Antoinette ate them too,” I said. “I ate them too.”
“
Kai,
we now get rich people problem,” Fofo said. “
Auparavant,
before now you
dey
eat everyting I give you, like a good goat. Now you want select?”
“Fofo Kpee, she’s not hungry,” I said, cupping
amala
into my fingers.
“I want Gabon food,” Yewa said, and shuffled her legs on the ground.
I continued to eat, paying no attention to her. But when I looked up at Fofo, I could see he was listening to her. “No way!” I said, wriggling deeper into the bed. “I’m not going anywhere!” I said this because I knew that if Fofo agreed with her, I would have to run back to the market to get the food for her. “You spoiled girl, get up from there,” I shouted. “Look at your head like Gabon food!”
“You’re stupid!” Yewa told me.
“Who’s stupid? Me?” I snarled.
Yewa spun around and bared her teeth, ready to bite me, which was what she did each time I hit her for being naughty. Even against the brighter background outside, I could see her smirk. I rushed toward her, but Fofo hooked the seat of my shorts with his fingers and yanked me back. I stumbled and kicked in his grasp. Yewa stood her ground and kept calling me names until Fofo told her to stop or she wouldn’t go to Gabon.
Yewa refused to come in or go out. Her eyes were swollen with unshed tears, which soon came flushing down her cheeks. The combination of her desire for what she called Gabon food and the threat that she might not go to Gabon upset her. She cried like she did when she had malaria and the quack doctor came to give her an injection in her bottom. Fofo started begging me not to beat her up,
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