began to sing “The Lord Will Bless Someone Today” as I watched Mama cuddle Yewa.
BEFORE LONG, YEWA FELL into a deep sleep on Mama. She hadn’t been able to do that since our mother fell very ill in the village. Even our grandparents knew Yewa was troublesome and allowed her to come with me only after Fofo had assured them he would do everything to take care of his niece.
“Hey, Pascal, how was school today?” said Mama, looking down on the sleeping Yewa like the Madonna on her Child.
The name startled me. I looked around the room for another person. There was nobody. Who was Pascal? The front door and windows were still closed.
In the silence, Mama lifted her face to me in a wide smile, and I felt at home again, though I didn’t know what to say. It sounded as if the question was directed to someone on the veranda. I could hear Big Guy and Fofo Kpee and Papa chuckling outside like people who had hit a jackpot. They seemed content to stay out there.
“Pascal . . . ?” she said again, and reached across the center table to hold my hand.
“I’m Kotchikpa,” I politely corrected her, looking down.
“Yes, that’s right, sweetie. Big Guy told us. . . . Kotchikpa?”
“Yes, Mama.”
“Please, may we call you Pascal? With time, I’m sure we’ll be more conversant with Kotchikpa. You know, with all the children in our care, from different tribes and countries, it’s a bit difficult at first. Pascal is such a sweet name. Memorable. Please? Pascal?”
“Yes, Mama.”
I nodded.
“Sure?”
I nodded again. “Yes, yes. It’s fine.”
She was still looking at me. I felt I needed to say something more, but I didn’t know what. I felt better now because she had given me a bit of attention, and I hoped my sister would sleep all night.
“Thanks, Mama, for paying our fees,” I blurted out.
“Oh, you’re welcome, sweetie.” She blew me a kiss. “So understanding, so grateful. We hear you’re very bright in your school. You’re the best. Oh, come over, sit with us. Don’t be too far away.”
She reached out for me, her bracelets jangling. I held her hand and came around the table. She hooked me into a hug and kissed my head, all the while making endearing sounds as if I were her precious, vulnerable pet. When she noticed Yewa had begun to sweat, she pulled off her colorful hat and fanned her.
“BIG GUY, GOOD EVENING!” I said cheerfully, as he entered the house, bringing food from the car and bowing before Mama. But he didn’t answer. It was as if he didn’t even see me. Mama looked at him and then at me. She squeezed my hand in a way that made me feel I should ignore him.
This evening, he was a different man. This was the third time we’d seen him, and it seemed he had changed each time. Tonight, he wore an immigration officer’s outfit. In the glare of our lantern, the beret on his shaven head looked like a coxcomb haircut, and his long sleeves had stripes. He looked bigger than usual because his shirt was bloated, pumped up by cassava starch, and his trousers had two hard lines like sharp blades. His shoes glowed, and when he moved, the legs of his trousers rustled against each other with his military gait. He carried himself about with the stiffness of a bodyguard around foreign royalty.
When he came back in, Mama rebuked him. “Pascal dey greet you just now! Jamais, never ignore my children!”
He stopped and stood very erect, as if before a national flag. “Oh, I’m sorry, Madame Ahouagnivo. Je suis très desolé. . . .”
“Just dey answer the boy, jo o. It’s not about me.”
“My apologies. . . . Bon soir, Kotchikpa . . .”
“No, Pascal,” Mama corrected him.
He bowed and said, “Beautiful name, huh.”
“Good evening,” I greeted him again.
Before long, he had filled our table with all kinds of food: crab soup, mounds of akasa wrapped in fresh leaves, macaroni, couscous, and stew. A pot of pepper soup was studded with chunks of bushmeat, each held together with white string, some of the meat still carrying the pellets that had brought down the animal, which was the kind of stuff our people liked a lot. You eat it carefully and slowly, partly because of the pepper, partly because you could bite into a pellet.
Big Guy staggered in with two coolas, and a draft of cold, icy air stabbed the room when he