Chapter 5

 

 

RETURNING TO ACCRA SEEMED to do Michael some good. However, the relief remained incomplete, as too often, he remembered what awaited him in the village. Had it been his mother alone involved, he’d have been confident that nothing would be done without his approval. However, with Wↄfa Sekyerɛ on the loose, he knew such confidence would be foolish.

He showed up early at work on the first day after his return and was at his desk before anyone else had arrived.

AgroChem Ghana wasn’t a big company, and what they called departments comprised of two to four people. For this reason, there weren’t too many hands to take on work when someone was off, especially in the case of a director like Michael. With any luck, he would have a lot of catching up to do, which would refocus his mind.

He started off by reviewing financial documents of prospective financiers for large-scale production of Formula F. Though not specialised, it needed his full concentration.

He expected exponential growth once the formula successfully launched—or rather, he hoped that the large-scale production part would come quickly. Usually, people were resistant to change, but once the product gained acceptance, everyone would want it. At the current size, AgroChem Ghana simply didn’t have the capacity to satisfy that kind of demand. Hence the need for a sponsor. Each of the company’s directors had to review the statements and proposals so they could vote on the best candidates at their next meeting.

He wouldn’t have minded doing this for the next few days, as it provided the perfect distraction. His thoughts could drive him crazy at home, but he didn’t want them interfering with work. So far, he’d managed quite well, and he didn’t even notice when someone entered the room until the person spoke.

“Hey, hey, hey.” It was his best friend, Osei. “You look too serious, bro. This isn’t rocket science, you know.”

Osei Mensah and Michael had met in America, and being the only Africans in their year group, they’d found themselves automatic friends. Through the years, as they got to know each other better, their friendship had grown stronger. When they’d completed school, they’d arranged to work together in Ghana.

“Yeah, well, I’m trying to clear these proposals,” Michael replied after he had recovered from the initial surprise. “Am I the last one to review them?”

“I think so. There are only four of us directors.” When Michael didn’t say anything for a while, Osei sat down then spoke again. “How was your trip? Did you manage to amaze them with your superior knowledge?”

“We’ll have to wait and see, but I won’t say they were amazed. Suspicious, more like.”

“I was afraid of that,” Osei said, half intending it as a joke.

“If anything, I was the enlightened one,” Michael murmured.

For a moment, they were both silent, and then Osei said, “Is this where I’m supposed to ask what the hell you mean?”

Michael smiled, beginning to fiddle with the pen. “I fell in love. I think.”

“You think you fell in love?” Osei repeated. “Are you kidding?”

“I met a girl on the day I went to assess the land on one of our farms.” He laughed. “I tell you, she was the most ragged creature you ever saw.”

“Are you sure it’s not the whole comfortable homey feeling you got?”

“I don’t know, but it was as if I’d met a goddess.” He looked at Osei. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know a thing about her.”

“Did you try to find out?”

“Oh, yes. You know these village occasions, everyone’s there, and, at the risk of sounding full of myself, people wanted to take a peek at me.” He shook his head as if to emphasise his point. “Not this girl, though. She seemed to have disappeared.”

“Maybe you were searching for a goddess, like you put it, and she simply wasn’t looking to be a goddess at those occasions,” Osei said in his use-your-gumption tone. “Did you ask around?”

“And say what exactly? I don’t even remember what she looks like, and believe me, I’ve tried.”

“What? Then you couldn’t possibly be in love.” Osei burst out laughing. “You had me going for a moment there.”

“Of course, I’d recognise her if I saw her again,” Michael added, knowing exactly how crazy he sounded. “I just don’t remember enough to give a sensible description to someone.”

Osei laughed even harder, but Michael grew solemn. Once he’d started, he discovered he couldn’t stop.

“It was the look in her eyes,” he explained passionately. “Like she was glad to see me, but—” He shook his head. “As though she loved me, and yet, the thought terrified her or something. I don’t know how to explain it.” He sighed with resignation. “How can a fierce storm and a rainbow exist all at the same time? Now all I want is to protect her.”

“I don’t believe this.” Osei had stopped laughing, but the twitching of his lips indicated it wouldn’t last. “You’ve turned into a wannabe poet.”

“I know what I sound like, believe me, and I should forget it,” Michael said. “It’s crazy, but since that encounter, I haven’t been able to think about anyone but her.”

“Seriously? Not even Lena?” Osei sat up.

His friend had never hidden his mistrust of Lena. Something about her oozing an up-to-something aura. In the beginning, it had bothered him, but when he’d discovered the feeling was mutual, he’d taken a step back. As long as it didn’t get in the way of his relationship with either of them, he wouldn't interfere.

“That’s what I’m saying, bro. This girl’s all I can think about,” Michael confessed, then gave a big sigh. Those eyes. Who was she? “Don’t worry, I’ll shake it off soon enough. There’s a lot of work to do here, and Lena, tangible flesh and blood, to keep me company.”

“I’m glad one of us had a blast. Welcome back to your real life.” Osei stood to leave. “I’m having lunch with the Priority Funds Group. I think you should come.”

“Count me in, bro.”

At the door, Osei almost bumped into Lena. “Oh, sorry.”

She smiled at him. One of those smiles Michael called her film star smiles. He couldn’t see her eyes, but he’d seen the smile enough times to know it didn’t reach her hooded eyes. Stepping past Osei, she walked into the office as the door clicked shut.

“Hi, babe,” she said, her eyes warming as they met his.

“Hi.”

He stood, releasing a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. With Lena, he felt none of the uncertainty he’d experienced the past several days. He knew what he felt for her and what she felt for him. The rules were uncomplicated and comfortable. Why didn’t he feel happy?

Regardless, the words escaped him. “I missed you.”

He waited for the phrase, once uttered, to ring with meaning. It didn’t.

“I should hope so.” She grinned, and as he reached her, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

He pulled out of the kiss, hoping she didn’t notice how quickly he did it. “We’re at work, remember?”

“That has never stopped us before,” she said, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

Actually, it had never stopped her before, although he usually didn’t complain. Nevertheless, she released him. He went back to his seat.

She studied him for a while. “You seem different.”

He looked up. “Different?”

“Yeah. Life-changing-experience different.”

“Aw, please. Ebinom isn’t so remote that I’d experience some sort of epiphany in just a few days.”

“No, not like that.” Her brows creased in a pensive frown. “Oh my God! Did somebody die?”

“No. Nobody died,” he replied in disbelief. “Why would you think something like that?”

“I don’t know. You have this thing about your mum dying, and for a second there, your expression—” She broke off as Michael pinned her with a thunderous look. “Maybe I’m just being a woman about it.”

A frown remained knitted in her brows as she shook her head. “I forgot how intense you get when you’re working on a project. I’ll leave you to it.”

As she walked out of the office, Michael sat back. Why would she jump to thinking someone had died? What was this obsession with death, anyway? First his mother, and now Lena.

He struggled to refocus his attention on work. He should never have talked about Forest Girl this morning. At least, not in the office. It must have affected his mood enough for Lena to sense something amiss.

Heaving a resigned sigh, he pushed the financial documents aside to work on something else. He’d lost his concentration.

 

****

 

Maame Badu sat in front of her house, watching children play in the dusty street. Tears came to her eyes as she thought about her son. Why wouldn’t he obey his father’s wish? It was the least he could do, since he had failed to attend the funeral or the one-year anniversary.

After having been gone so long, he was too much of his own man for her to force it on him. She just wished he understood her position. After all, the girl would make him a good wife.

She leant forward, resting her chin in her palm, her brows creased in a thoughtful frown. She’d resigned herself to failing to carry out her husband’s wish. She had to be strong and prepare for her personal hell for such failure. Sorrow overcame her. At times like this, she missed her dear Opanyin Badu greatly. How would she ever manage without him?

“Agoo,” someone called from the wooden gate.

She looked up in time to see Sekyerɛ walk into the compound.

“Amee,” she replied.

“I greet you.”

“I respond.” She pointed to a chair. “Please sit down.”

When he had taken a seat, she called her daughter to bring him water to drink. It was physical evidence of welcoming a visitor into one’s home. Sekyerɛ gulped down the water, then wiped off the bit that had trickled down his chin with the back of his hand.

“How is life treating you?” he asked.

“Sekyerɛ, my sorrow knows no bounds,” she replied. “I’m tired of this life, and yet, my soul cannot rest now. I cannot bear to think of the disappointment I am to my beloved Opanyin Badu.”

“Don’t worry yourself. I know your sorrow,” he said. “In fact, that is why I am here. The elders are sending someone to Accra to see your son about the work he wants to do on our farms.”

“Who’s going? I must send Yaw some proper food,” she said. “If I fail as a wife, I shall not fail as a mother.”

“Don’t speak like that, woman, for I am going to Accra.”

Surprise registered in her, but hope filled her heart, though some uncertainly remained, since he didn’t have any power among the elders. “Sekyerɛ, please make me understand what you mean.”

“I know I’m not a very important man, but my brother was a respected elder, and it is my duty to him to fulfil his wishes. I managed to persuade the gathering to let me be one of the people to go and see Yaw, because he’s my nephew.”

“But Yaw will be returning, so why must you go and see him? Is something wrong?”

“Not at all, old woman. We simply want him to be prepared the next time he comes around. Certainly, we must try the soil medicine before the rains set in.”

“The elders have accepted to try it, then.”

It was a statement rather than a question, and Sekyerɛ chose to not answer it. Instead, he said, “I shall have the chance to talk to him on your behalf, and may Ɔdomankoma bring us good fortune. You shall meet my brother with good news, our dear wife.”

“I shall pray until you return.”

“I’ll send one of the children to come and collect anything you want me to take to Yaw.”

“Thank you, Sekyerɛ, but don’t worry. I will send Serwaa. May Ɔdomankoma be with you.”

As Sekyerɛ returned to his house, Maame Badu remained in her seat, already offering prayers for luck.