Growing Yams in London (16 page)

‘That’s enough, Makeeda. Go to your room,’ Dad said.

‘But . . .’

‘Now!’ he said angrily. ‘We’ll finish this discussion later.’

As I left the room I turned to look at my mother. Her expression hadn’t changed much, except now she was sobbing in my father’s arms. For the first time in a long time, I felt
different. I felt lighter. I guess I’d just had enough of lying and pretending that everything was OK, because it wasn’t. It hadn’t been for ages. I knew I’d just broken
every single rule my family had, but I felt strangely calm.

It had been less than twenty-four hours since Mum and Dad found out about Nelson. As it wasn’t the holidays Mum and I avoided each other pretty well. Dad drove Delphy and
me to school and, unlike Mum, he actually dropped me off outside the gate. That was when he told me that I was grounded until further notice and forbidden from seeing Nelson. I was also told to be
home straight after school, which wasn’t exactly difficult as the only person I usually hung out with was still refusing to talk to me. I wasn’t surprised by the punishment, as
I’d answered back and shouted at them, not to mention the real issue: Nelson. I’m not sure how long I actually believed I could get away with lying about him, as well as lying to
him.

I spent the day too depressed to attempt an apology to Bharti and, to her credit, she actually sat beside me for all our lessons and was civil. I was dying to tell her about everything, but I
knew better, so I went to find Mel for some advice. She was heading to a lunchtime detention with Laura, for arriving late two days running, when I finally caught up with her.

‘Sorry, I can’t talk now. Text me,’ Mel said.

‘But aren’t you going to detention?’ I asked.

‘Yeah, but we’ve got old Maggie. You know what she’s like.’

‘Oh, OK,’ I replied.

Maggie was a teaching assistant, who was basically holding out for her last day. As long we weren’t tearing each other’s hair out, she let us do what we wanted in detention.

So I was forced to send Mel text messages.

Wow, I felt sorry for Mel – if Mademoiselle Badeau was taking over, she’d end up doing French during detention.

I headed off to the school library and made notes on Yaa Asantewaa. I still hadn’t understood what Nana-Amma meant about Yaa Asantewaa’s legacy, but I was determined to work it
out.

By the end of the day I’d even managed to get Bharti to walk to the bus stop with me. She was still holding a fantasy book, despite agreeing to walk with me. It was a threat, as I knew if
she got truly pissed off with anything I said, she wouldn’t hesitate to ignore me and delve into her book.

‘Bharti, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have forgotten.’

‘Yeah, Nick said,’ she replied.

Her words stung. I felt like nothing I said would work.

‘Seriously, I’m sorry,’ I said.

‘Do you have any idea what it was like for me to go to that college without back-up? Those guys are like skyscrapers compared to me let alone the fact that when I saw Hitesh I tripped and
went flying into a group of girls.

I laughed then immediately stopped, unsure of myself.

‘Makeeda, it’s not funny. I nearly died of embarrassment. It would’ve been easier if my best friend had been with me,’ Bharti said, but she was smiling.

‘Yeah, I know. Friends?’ I said eagerly.

‘OK,’ she said.

I hoped that things would return to normal and we’d spend the journey checking out boys from the local school, but it didn’t. Instead, we sat in silence until my stop. Bharti only
looked up from her book to say goodbye to me. I got the impression that things would be different between us from now on.

I got home and my mind shifted to Nelson. How was I going to tell him that I couldn’t see him? I switched on my computer and went straight to my essay on Yaa Asantewaa. An hour later my
phone beeped.

I smiled and logged on.

Oh great! Yet another person who believes Nick and I are related! I decided not to correct him. After all, my ‘cousin’ had saved my friendship. I hoped Nelson
wasn’t annoyed that I got Nick to talk to Bharti instead of him.

I couldn’t tell him the truth – he’d be hurt.

That wasn’t technically a lie.

‘Makeeda!’ Delphy yelled into my room.

‘What?’

‘Mum wants us downstairs.’

I went downstairs and walked into the living room. I was nervous. No one had mentioned the whole Tanisha outburst and I knew that it was only a matter of time.

Mum was sitting on the sofa, chatting away in Twi on the phone.

‘Hold on. It’s Nana-Amma,’ she said, handing the receiver over to me.

‘Hiya, Nana,
Ghana te s
ε
n?’
I said brightly.

It was the only new phrase I’d learned. It was basically adjusting the whole ‘How are you’ thing, to ‘How’s Ghana?’

‘Fine, fine,’ she said. ‘Well, I know what you’ve been up to . . .’

‘Oh,’ I said.

That meant I was about to receive a severe telling off, Nana-style.

‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell you off. You’re old enough to know right from wrong and I’m sure your parents will sort everything out.’

Hold on, she was staying out of it? Wow! Nana would usually tell me how disappointed she was at the very least. Once I got the full verbal assault – she was over on a visit and caught me
doing something bad when my parents weren’t around. After being yelled at in the middle of a shop aged five, I caught on pretty quickly about behaving myself in her company.

‘How is your essay going?’

‘Fine, I think I know what you mean about Yaa Asantewaa’s legacy. Does it have to do with the Golden Stool?’ I asked.

‘Yes. Well done and don’t forget to send me a copy when you’ve finished it. Take care, Makeeda! Here’s Tanisha,’ Nana-Amma said.

‘Bye, Nana! Hiya, Tanisha!’ I said, smiling.

‘Ohmigod, Makeeda, what did I do to you?’ Tanisha yelled angrily.

‘What?’ I asked, shocked.

‘You implicated me!’ Tanisha continued.

‘Huh?’

‘You told your mum I knew about you and Nelson!’ she said.

‘Oh yeah,’ I said. ‘But it’s not like anyone will say anything to you . . .’

‘Are you crazy? I’m in the middle of Ghana with Nana-Amma! Did you honestly think she’d let this one go?’ Tanisha questioned.

She had a point.

‘Maybe if you just apologised . . .’ I began.

‘I’m not the one going out with Nelson! Besides, I’ve just spent half an hour apologising to your mum and I have to call your dad tomorrow morning!’

‘Well, that’s not so bad,’ I said.

‘That’s not my punishment, Makeeda. Girl, that’s just pleading for forgiveness!’

‘Oh riiiight,’ I said, surprised. I really had dropped her in it.

‘I swear! I won’t see daylight until I start my voluntary work, and that’s not till the middle of January. So thanks a lot, Makeeda!’ Tanisha said angrily.

‘Tanisha, I’m really sorry.’

‘Hey, will you two finish up? If the conversation is that important you should buy your own phone cards!’ Mum said.

‘Bye, Tanisha, and I’m really sorry.’

‘OK, Makeeda,’ Tanisha said softly and hung up.

‘Delphina, get ready for bed, then Makeeda will read to you,’ Mum said.

‘Yes, Mum,’ we both chorused which made us giggle.

Twenty minutes later, Delphy was yelling for me.

I walked into her room. It was slightly smaller than mine and was decorated in blue and pink. The furniture was painted pink and the walls were baby blue, and she had posters of Fairytale on her
wardrobe. I noticed a mini biography of Richard Branson beside the latest Malorie Blackman book.

‘How come you’re reading that?’ I said, pointing at the biography.

‘I dunno,’ she said, shrugging. ‘Aren’t you going to read to me?’

My parents stopped reading to Delphy nearly five years ago, because apparently they couldn’t get the voices right. So Mum really was punishing me, but I decided to read my essay instead.
That way I had the voice thing totally covered.

‘Why is it so hot in here?’ I asked.

‘Because my plant needs the heat,’ she said, pointing to a plant pot sitting on her radiator cover. ‘It’s for my school project.’

‘Oh, right,’ I said.

‘Where’s your book?’

‘I’m going to read my essay instead.’

‘That’s not a story!’

‘Yes it is. Listen. A long, long time ago . . .’

‘It would’ve been better if you said “once upon a time”.’

‘Shut up! This isn’t a fairytale! What I’m about to tell you really happened,’ I said. ‘There was a Queen Mother in Asante called Yaa Asantewaa and in 1900 she
decided to lead the Asante people to war against the British.’

Delphy yawned.

‘Oh thanks,’ I said, looking up from my essay.

‘Well, get on with it then. Why did she start the war?’ she said, snuggling down beneath her duvet.

‘Well, when the British came to the Asante kingodom, they wanted to control it.’

‘Why?’

‘I don’t know. I guess they wanted to control its resources, you know, gold, ivory and stuff.’