While Kwesi was receiving congratulations from his neighbours and preparing for his triumphant return to Patasi, a very different scene was unfolding just a few
Saturday morning in Kumasi arrived with a festive brightness, the sun glinting off the metal roofs. The sky was a brilliant, cloudless blue, the kind
The remnants of the fufu had been cleared, and the evening breeze rustled the mango leaves in the courtyard. Kwesi sat back, watching Abena. The
The journey from Bantama to Patasi was not long, but in the gathering dusk of a Kumasi evening, it felt like a voyage between two
The silence that followed Agyeman’s departure was heavy, hanging in the humid air like the dust settling after a tro-tro passes on a dirt road.
Agyeman turned slowly, looking Kwesi up and down, assessing the quality of his shirt, the shine of his shoes. “Ah, Kwesi. The traveller returns. We
The morning sun in Bantama was less forgiving than the previous evening’s golden glow. It beat down on the corrugated iron roofs, promising another sweltering
The old man sat perfectly still for a moment, processing the words. Then, tears began to track through the deep furrows of his cheeks. He
“Ame-eh!” a voice cracked from the darkened doorway of the main chamber. It was a voice thin with age, brittle like dry harmattan leaves. A
“Kwesi! The big man returns from the coast,” Osei said, leaning his elbows on the window frame. His breath smelled faintly of fermentation. “We heard
