“It was a Friday night in Kumasi,” Forson began, his voice becoming low and weighted with a different kind of sorrow. “Six years ago. I

“Guinea was a land of interesting people and French grammar,” Forson said, his voice trailing off into a distant, dusty memory. “We arrived in Conakry

“In 1957, our independence from British rule arrived,” Forson continued, his voice taking on the electric hum of a nation being born, “the Castle didn’t

The white, fluorescent light of the infirmary ceiling felt like a physical assault on Kwesi’s eyes. He stared upward, watching the slow, rhythmic crawl of

The white, fluorescent light of the infirmary ceiling felt like a physical assault on Kwesi’s eyes. He stared upward, watching the slow, rhythmic crawl of

The following morning, the sun rose over the Ashanti Central Prison with an indifferent brightness. Kwesi stood in the visitation line, his heart beating with

Three months later, the preparations for the union were no longer whispers; they were a mechanical inevitability. Osei’s Ford navigated the familiar potholes of the

By the middle of the fifth year, the “Long Wait” had reached a point of brittle exhaustion. In Kumasi, the harmattan dust of several seasons

Pages 95 & 96 While the foundations of Abena’s resolve were crumbling in the salt air of Tema, Kwesi Dankwa was rebuilding himself from the

Gradually, Abena had created a “Social Exile”; she no longer attended social events. It had started with small excuses. If it were a  nursing colleague’s