Tamarind (E01)

FICTION

/ˈfɪkʃ(ə)n/ noun

A story that did not actually happen………yet.

“Ah. I don’t understand what you’re saying.” Emefa looked sharply at Jamal, trying hard to remain calm. Was he being serious right now?

Jamal continued, “I’m saying she called and wa-“

“I can hear the words that are coming out of your mouth, Jamal. But I don’t understand you. Were you not there when that woman basically threatened me?“

“It was just a joke. You heard her say that that day.”

“Oh really?! Well, it didn’t sound that way to me.”

On Emefa’s second visit with Jamal to his aunt’s house, they had been talking and laughing about Jamal’s childhood when his aunt, Aunty Menaye, had turned to Emefa and said:

“My lady, I’m sure you are getting a sense the sacrifices I had to make to raise Jamal whilst that mother of his was globetrotting.” She paused, “That said, if he wishes to send me any kind of token monthly, and you try to stand in the way of that, then I’ll pay you a special visit to show you that I am more of a witch than you are.”

Then, seeing the expression on Jamal’s face, Aunty Menaye half-laughed and said to him, “Oh don’t mind me. Let me scare her a bit so she doesn’t take you for granted.”

Emefa had not taken it lightly at all, yet here was Jamal telling her it was not a big deal and his aunt should be given a role to play at their wedding.

Emefa looked at the gate. It did not look like it would be opening anytime soon. She and Jamal were parked three houses away from her parents’ house and she had whatsapped Maame, her sister, to let her in. She did not want to ring the bell to risk letting her mother know the exact time she was getting home. There had been a few too many episodes of ‘Emefa is late in getting home… again‘. This was usually followed by a lecture on the fact that she and Jamal are not officially married yet. In today’s episode of ‘Emefa is late again‘, she was arriving five hours after the premarital counselling class had ended. And she really did not want to have to disclose their ‘itinerary’ for the evening as an explanation to her parents for her lateness.

“Jamal, I don’t think we can continue this conversation right now. It’s getting late. Let’s talk about this later.”, Emefa said without looking at her fiancé.

Her eyes were fixed on the gate, waiting for it to open. ‘Where is this girl?’ She needed to get out of the car quickly before she lost her temper, given the information her fiancé had just given her. Emefa messaged Maame.

“Madam…..👀” and got the reply: “Should I excuse you both for the goodnight💋? 😜🏃🏾‍♀️” Emefa looked up. Maame had opened the gate a crack and was peeking through like a mischievous child. “This girl plays too much. And I’m supposed to be the younger one.“, she thought to herself.

“Goodnight Ji” Emefa got out of the car.

‘Ji’ (Jee) was the name Emefa had given Jamal on their second date. When she had first met him, she assumed he was Muslim. Being Christian herself, she was reluctant to go out with him. But he had insisted that that first date was actually not a date and so, Emefa thought, ‘A girl’s gotta eat.’, and let him take her out. That night had been one of the most amazing nights Emefa had had in a long long time; the conversations were easy, she could be herself, he had a great sense of humour and she looked forward to spending time with him again. And so when he asked to take her out again on another not-a-date, she obliged. These were just harmless outings after all, she thought, trying to convince herself that she was not cheating on Bismark, her boyfriend at the time.

Bismark was Emefa’s former roommate’s course-mate. Emefa had felt pressured to date in her final year in university, and agreed to see where things would go with Bismark. But it became clear very early in the relationship that things were going to go just about the distance between the tip of her nose and the rest of her face. In fact it seemed the only thing they had in common was probably the nationality on their passports and their biological classification. But neither of them wanted to be the person to initiate the breakup. So they had both been hanging on with Emefa going on not-a-date outings with Jamal. Bismark eventually came up with a story about his family wanting him to marry a family friend and how they used to play as friends, and it was a childhood oath, bla bla bla. Emefa was relieved and did not even make an effort to hide it. They ended things and went their separate ways.

On her second still-not-a-date with Jamal, Emefa had called him ‘Alhaji‘ as an inference to what she had assumed was his religion. He laughed. “I’m not Muslim. I was only named after someone who was. But even then, not every Muslim is Alhaji.” Emefa replied. “Well it’s already registered in my head. Let’s make it ‘Ji’, that has a nice ring to it.” They both laughed. It had been two years since that night.

Emefa got out of the car and tried hard not to slam the door behind her. It was only nine days into the new year and one of her resolutions had been to try to control her emotions better. She walked towards the gate without looking back, then remembered Maame was watching and may notice something was wrong. Emefa paused, turned, half-smiled at her fiancé and waved in a manner that seemed more like a swat at a fly than a wave. Then she walked into the house.

“Is Ma awake?” Emefa asked in a hushed tone, looking at her parents’ bedroom window. The lights were off. She knew the most likely answer would be ‘yes’ and yet she was badly hoping for a ‘no’.

“Oh she’s asleep. She actually slept early today. Said she was tired.”, Maame replied.

Emefa was relieved. At least she wouldn’t have to listen to the lecture on coming home late when she and Jamal were not officially married. The two walked into the house and locked the door quietly behind them. Emefa pulled off her wig, then proceeded to take off her jewellery.

“The day you wait till you get to your room before you start taking things off, it’ll snow in this Ghana. I hope Mr is aware this is what he’s signing up for.” Maame whispered. They both giggled.

“Shh… you’ll wake Ma!” Maame reminded Emefa. Sharp hearing was their mother’s super power. Emefa stopped and reached towards the wall in the dark, feeling for the light switch. Maame stopped her.

“What are you doing?”

Emefa whispered. “I think I’ve dropped something.”

“Use the light from your phone screen.” Maame whispered back.

“My battery is low and it’s in power-saving mode now so the screen light is not that bright.”

“So just try to manage erh? It’s like you want to get caught.” Maame headed for her own room, leaving Emefa to grope around the dark floor, trying to figure out if she actually did drop something or it was her imagination.

“But why am I stressing myself? I can leave this and check in the morning.”, Emefa thought to herself. She turned to go, then froze. “Was that…?” Emefa turned back slowly and switched on the lights in the living room. Seated on the couch staring right back at her was her mother.

“Ma!”

“Awuraba, akwaaba! Ayekoo.”

[…. Continue reading: Tamarind Episode 2….]

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