Ipods in Accra (11 page)

‘Makeeda?
Aden, wonkyia wunna?
' Nana-Amma asked me.

I immediately went over to greet Tanisha. ‘Hey,' I said, hugging her. It was weird. We were so close, the way we communicated by phone, email and IM, we were more like sisters. However, seeing Tanisha suddenly made all my insecurities come flooding back. Was I going to have to compete with her yet again for Mum's attention?

‘Hey yourself! Looking forward to tomorrow?'

Everyone seemed to stop what they were doing to listen to my reply.

‘It's not tomorrow, it's the day after!' Delphina interrupted.

‘Oh right, but you're excited about it, right?' Tanisha asked again.

‘Yes, and a bit nervous,' I said. I knew exactly what she was doing, but I wasn't going to take the bait. I wasn't going to admit to being petrified.

After twenty minutes I went to bed. The mosquitoes were fewer, but I still needed to plug in repellent. As I settled down to sleep, I couldn't help wishing I could do the same for Tanisha.

‘What's that noise?' I said to Delphy.

She was in the bed next to mine and when I looked over she sat up.

‘I think that's the sound of drumming,' she said.

‘Makeeda! It's started!' Nana shrieked, bursting into our room with Mum. She was more excited about the ceremony than I was.

‘What's started, Nana?'

‘The bragoro!'

Oh man, already? Today was the day (according to tradition) I became a woman. The fact was, I had actually got my
period eleven months ago. To be honest, being the last one of my friends was a total nightmare. I mean, I didn't do that thing where I pretended I had got it or anything, but it was harsh listening to everyone else – it made me feel so immature. I was probably the only girl in the world who was wishing for PMS! As the ceremony is meant to occur as soon as you got your period, I thought the Queen Mother of our clan had made a special concession for me, but apparently loads of girls from the UK and US were returning to Ghana to have this ceremony, so I was probably not that special after all.

I glanced at my watch. It was four o'clock in the morning! Didn't they know it was just indecent to wake anyone up before seven a.m.? I attempted to bury my head under the blanket, but Mum ripped it from over me with a flourish.

‘Move it, missy!' she said, shaking me.

‘Someone is drumming for Makeeda?' Delphy asked incredulously.

‘Yes, they're announcing to everyone that Makeeda is having her bragoro.'

‘Couldn't they have done it on the radio or something?' Delphina murmured sleepily.

When we first arrived in Ghana, we kept hearing radio announcements about everything – parties, weddings and funerals. Delphy and I were a bit surprised: we kept thinking how people in England would be worried about gatecrashers if they announced their events on the radio. Mum said no one here tended to think like that, they saw it as an opportunity for people who didn't know about an event to attend.

‘Delphina, before radios, we communicated with drums,' Nana-Amma said, coming into the room.

‘Oh, right. I knew that,' Delphy said.

I knew she was lying and really wanted to say so, but Mum was steering me towards the bathroom. My requests to sleep for another few hours were ignored.

I was soon dressed in a white ntoma, which was draped across my body loosely, and told to sit in the courtyard.

Nana-Amma's courtyard was huge; to the left was a small annexe house where Comfort lived with her cousin, Kwadwo, the gateman. Between the two homes were three rows of plantain, avocado and fruit trees. When we were younger, she had told us that she had planted one row for each of her grandchildren Tanisha, Delphy and me. In fact, it was a mini farm, and I suspected the extra rows had more to do with the money she was making. Now and again, I could see where Delphina's entrepreneurial side might have come from – Nana-Amma had left full-time teaching for farming. Dad used to say she gave retirement a bad name.

The front gate had been propped open for passers-by to see me. The drummers had already left and I was pretending not to yawn as the dawn broke. The sky was orangey – a deeper, richer colour than the ground. What surprised me was that there were already people up and about, going past to work.

I had managed to hide my iPod in my lap and was listening to some of the songs Nick had downloaded for me. Whenever someone passed by, I waved and said,‘
Maakye!
'
Good morning was the first phrase I had learned, and quite an important one, given the fact that everyone in Ghana seemed to be an early riser.

I was pretty bored, but, after half an hour, there was an almighty argument between Nana, Mum and one of Mum's aunties, Nana-Adowa. (I called all my parents' aunties and uncles ‘Nana' because they were like extra grandparents.) Tanisha and Delphy came running towards me.

‘What's going on?' I asked. My level of Twi meant that I could only understand the odd word and all I could get was Nana-Adowa saying, ‘We don't do it like that.'

‘They're talking about you,' Delphy said eagerly.

‘Well, yeah, I got that from their constantly dropping my name,' I said.

Delphy's Twi was actually worse than mine. Mum was hoping this holiday might change that, but, unless Delphy got to meet the couple who ran the largest fast-food outlets in Ghana and Nigeria, she wasn't going to attempt Twi anytime soon.

‘Um … apparently you're meant to be naked for this part!' Tanisha said smirking.

Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?! You're lying! Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!' I screamed. There was no way I was doing this in my birthday suit!

Mum came out and explained that Tanisha wasn't lying and that I was supposed to be topless, but she'd negotiated with the Queen Mother that I could wear a bra or a bikini top. Apparently this was to make sure that everyone could see that I wasn't pregnant.

I was furious. I mean, a bikini top or bra? It was weird enough sitting in the courtyard with people gawping at me as they went to work. I couldn't do it half-naked!

‘Go to your room – there's a bikini on the bed,' Mum added hopefully.

I looked over at Tanisha and Delphy. They were attempting to stifle their laughter.

‘Oh shut up, you two!' I said. I went indoors to put on the bikini top and decided to put some shimmery body lotion on, so at least my skin would glow in the sun. I was just about to return to my courtyard seat, when Nana-Amma turned up in my room and began covering my arms, back and chest in a white paste. She told me it was white clay, to signify my purity and, within minutes, she'd covered every part of me that shimmered. It was a shame my thoughts couldn't be purified, because at that moment I wanted nothing more than to grab her hands and yank them away from me. The thing is you can't do that to your grandmother. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Tanisha and Delphina doubled over with laughter in the corridor.

I put my ntoma back on, returned to my seat and was about to put on my ear phones, when Nana-Adowa yanked the top half of my ntoma down so everyone could see my bikini top and stomach.

‘Hey!'

‘Tradition is tradition. I may not approve of that bikini, but if the Queen Mother agreed to it, then it will do.'

That was the problem with having so many grandmothers.

I bet, if any of my grandfathers had been alive, they wouldn't have been too happy. Come to think of it, Dad wouldn't have been pleased about this. Now and again he got a bit weird with the length of my skirts in the summer. He sort of mumbled and Mum just rolled her eyes at him. She kept telling him she'd seen a lot worse where she worked and that was the staff, not the pupils.

‘You Londoners think you can get away with anything!' Nana-Adowa said. ‘Well, I hope when it is Delphina's turn, she'll stick to the rules.'

‘Yes, Nana,' I replied. I wanted to tell her that Delphina wouldn't do this ceremony unless it meant automatic access to the top Ghanaian business minds. Even then with her powers of negotiation, Delphina wouldn't make it easy for them.

‘You won't be needing this,' she said, yanking away my iPod. ‘And you'd better give me your phone too.'

I couldn't believe it, but saying no to Nana-Adowa was like telling a fire to stop raging, so I handed over my mobile.

Handing over both my phone and my iPod was just a step too far for me. I had barely had time to adjust to my new toy and it was already being cruelly snatched from me. I loved it – I just had to work out how to get Mum and Dad to pay for my downloads, instead of having to use my pocket money. When we were in Accra, I thought I'd lost my iPod and made everyone hunt it down. I actually cried. I had the perfect selection of music on it, so to lose it so soon was devastating. The thing is, I do everything to music: study, chores and walk to the shops. Embarrassingly, it was found under my bed.

Mum was not pleased and told me to look after my ‘Walkman' properly. She called it a Walkman because when she was my age, that was the name of the newest thing – a portable cassette player about the size of a brick!

I was beginning to not like Nana-Adowa; her only saving grace was that she was Auntie Leila's mum.

After a while I could hear drumming again. It got louder and louder and suddenly three men appeared, dressed in shirts made of ntoma, smart trousers and carrying huge drums around their bodies. They were beating their drums with thin drumsticks. Behind them were two women and a young girl, also dressed in ntoma, who began singing as they approached me. Within minutes, everyone – Mum, Nana- Amma, Nana-Adowa, Comfort, Auntie Leila, Tanisha and Delphina – were singing and dancing around me.

More people passed by and I was given small gifts mainly by Nana-Amma's neighbours. The music and drumming ended and I was allowed to return to the house as the next stage was about to begin.

I found Delphina and Tanisha listening in on a conversation.

‘What's going on?' I asked.

‘Shh!' Tanisha said and I joined their eavesdropping.

‘All you have to do is carry her. It's not that far,' Auntie Leila said.

‘No,' said a male voice. I realised it was my older cousin, Kofi. His mum and Auntie Leila were sisters.

‘Come on,' Auntie Leila added.

Mese dabi
.'

‘Mepε wo kyεw?
' Auntie Leila asked. ‘She's huge! Not even I am man enough for that on my back!' said Kofi.

‘I would have bargained by now,' Delphy said. ‘Who are they talking about?' I asked. ‘You!'

‘What?' I said, shocked.

‘Keep it down. Oh and I wouldn't interrupt – eavesdropping doesn't look good,' Tanisha said.

‘Kofi, she's your little cousin. Someone from our family has to do it and you're the only male without an age-related illness!' Auntie Leila said, persuasively.

‘Plus, I'm really strong and handsome …' Kofi added.

‘Yes, of course. How much do you want?'

‘I see where Delphy gets it from!'

I exclaimed. ‘Shh!' Delphy said.

‘An iPod. Plus an iTunes card with credit in sterling.'

‘What? You crook! You should be doing this for free!'

We suddenly heard movement on the other side of the door, so we all jumped back in shock.

‘No wait, don't go,' Auntie Leila said, hurriedly.

‘Do we have a deal, Auntie?'

‘Yes, yes, Kofi. Well, at least Makeeda will be pleased.'

Oh, I thought it was Tanisha doing her bragoro,' Kofi said.

‘No, it's Makeeda!'

‘εnyε hwee
.' Kofi shrugged.

‘Course it doesn't matter to you, you cheeky little …' Tanisha said angrily.

I pulled her back.

‘Remember, eavesdropping doesn't look good.' I grinned.

‘Shouldn't you be getting ready?' Comfort said, startling us.

‘Um … yeah.'

‘First, we have to shave your hair and cut your nails,' Comfort said in a mixture of Twi and English.

‘My what?!' I said.

‘What did you just say?' Tanisha asked, horrified.

Delphina just stared at me in disbelief. I actually saw signs of sympathy in her eyes. I silently ran my fingers through my jumbo braids. I had had them done just before we arrived in Ghana.

We heard Nana-Amma shouting for Comfort and she immediately disappeared.

For a minute or two, the only thing that could be heard was the distant hum of the fridge in the kitchen.

‘Listen, it's not too late to back out of the rest of this thing,' Tanisha said.

‘What? Now?' I asked. But I was sorely tempted. The thought of losing my hair was too much. It had taken ages for it to grow!

‘Makeeda, this is getting out of control,' Tanisha went on. ‘It's like they're sending the movement back a hundred years!'