NINETY

Monday evening, Dazz and Courage helped Edwin pack up his belongings and furniture to move from his house in the suburb of Dansoman to the new place on Spintex Road—definitely a step up. Spintex was an area of high economic activity with houses and strip malls materializing apparently every day. Unfortunately, road paving never happened as quickly as buildings were erected, so the ride to Edwin’s place in his pickup was a jarring test of the vehicle’s suspension.

Neither Courage nor Dazz had seen the house yet, and they were suitably impressed. Unfurnished, it would take a few more chairs and sofas to fill up the sitting room. Two bedrooms, each with a modern bathroom, a kitchen with much more than Edwin’s meager cooking abilities would ever require, and a backyard with enough space to have a good party.

“What!” Dazz exclaimed, each time they followed Edwin into another impressive space.

“This is nice,” Courage agreed. “Congrats.”

After they had moved and carried things around, the guys walked to the corner to buy kelewele, then returned to the house to devour the delicious meal and wash it down with some beer. Edwin had already set up his TV, so they watched music videos for a while and then switched it off.

“I really like the place,” Courage said.

“Yours is even better, Mr. Bill Gates,” Edwin teased.

“No, it’s not. This place is bigger.”

Dazz said, “What am I doing wrong? You guys have nice places and I’m stuck with two tiny rooms for a house.”

“Look, Dazz,” Courage said, “I know your uncle is the DCOP and he’s honest to the last pesewa, but you need to do things for yourself and not worry about what he thinks. I know the guys at the top say we’re not supposed to do certain private jobs for ministers and embassies and so on, but many of us do, and so should you. You can’t make money in the GPS until you get very high up—like the commissioners and so on. And even they have money-making schemes on the side.”

“Yeah,” Edwin said dryly. “Like sakawa. But I agree with what Courage is saying.”

Dazz sat forward. “Edwin, what’s your story?”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I saw you and Madam Akrofi together at the CAC party. I told Courage about it.”

“What are you talking about?” Edwin said defensively. “I only walked her to her vehicle.”

“No, no,” Dazz said. “I saw the two of you embracing. In the garden there by the car park.”

“Sugar mummy, Edwin?” Courage said, winking at him. “How long, and how did you meet?”

Edwin eyed his two friends without a word.

“We’re not judging you,” Dazz said, “but we do want to know.”

“Why shouldn’t you get something out of fucking her?” Courage said with a shrug.

“Shut up,” Edwin said, his features clouding. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Then what?” Dazz said.

“Mrs. Akrofi isn’t a ‘sugar mummy,’ as you call it,” Edwin said. “She’s my real mother. My biological mother.”

“What?” Dazz and Courage said together.

“Yes,” Edwin replied.

“Are you serious?” Dazz said.

“Of course, I am.”

“But you’ve never talked about it,” Courage said, incredulous. “I mean, this is not your ordinary mom who lives in some tiny village somewhere in the hinterland, this is an important lady around town. The IGP’s wife!”

“I don’t talk about it,” Edwin said, “because she doesn’t talk about it. And she doesn’t talk about it because her husband doesn’t know she had a child before she met him, and she’s always kept it from him.”

“But is it something to be so ashamed of?” Courage asked.

“Maybe not to you, but to my mother’s mother, yes. She said I was the product of sinful lust, so she sent me to Techiman in the Brong-Ahafo Region to grow up with my aunt—my mother’s sister. That way, I was out of sight, out of mind. It was only when I reached manhood that I returned to Accra. My grandmother was dead and gone by that time, anyway. But Mummy supported me even while her sister was bringing me up. She paid my school fees and used to send money to my PO Box at the post office. Sometimes, even, those wretched people at the post office would steal my cash. Once we got mobile money, Mummy used that method. So yes, she paid most of the rent due for this house. She loves me, but I think the real thing is she’s trying to make up for the guilt of sending me away.”

“Listen, chaley,” Courage said, “I’m sorry for what I said about . . . you know.”

Edwin dismissed it. “Don’t worry about it.” He seemed troubled about something else. “You know, my mother is complicated. In fact, her whole life is complicated. My half-brother, Kwame, has autism and he’s in an institution in the UK. Before Mummy sent him away, she took him to some fetish priest somewhere to see if he could cure Kwame. This was after she and Mr. Akrofi had taken the boy to several doctors who didn’t know what was going on.”

Dazz and Courage were silent as they tried to absorb all of this. It was a lot.

“Who is your dad, then?” Dazz asked.

Edwin gave a dry laugh. “I knew that was coming next. I’m not even sure if I should say. You’ve already had quite a few surprises for one night. Are you ready?”

The other two nodded.

“You know my father quite well,” Edwin said. “He’s Commissioner Andoh.”

They were struck dumb for a moment. Then Courage said, “Wow, you are right. You have a lot of surprises.”

“I’m truly short of words,” Dazz muttered.

“Mummy met Daddy before she met Mr. Akrofi,” Edwin continued. “I was an accident, to put it in a frank way. The commissioner wanted to marry Mummy, but she was already in love with Mr. Akrofi. So, now you can imagine the way my father treats me.”

“I guess not well,” Dazz said. “You represent the woman he lost.”

“You could say that,” Edwin said, with a hint of bitterness. “He hates Mr. Akrofi, but I don’t think the IGP knows that. And me? I’ve spent a long time waiting for the day my father will approve of me. That’s why I became a policeman. But I’m done with trying. I don’t care about him anymore.”

Dazz and Courage looked at Edwin with some—not complete—understanding. They could see why Edwin was sometimes moody and introspective.

“We aren’t worried about any of this, Edwin,” Dazz said. “You are still our good friend and colleague, okay? In fact, I feel our friendship is even stronger.”

“Agreed,” Courage said. “Let’s have some more beer and drink to that.”