Ipods in Accra (12 page)

‘Movement?' I didn't know what she was talking about.

‘Feminism,' Delphina said, smirking at me.

‘Oh right,' I said, shooting Delphina a look. How was it possible that she could work that out before I did?

‘It's archaic!' Tanisha added.

Suddenly Mum appeared, ushering Delphina into the
kitchen to help Comfort.

‘What's going on?' she asked.

‘She can't do this!' Tanisha said to Mum. ‘It's wrong to make her go through with it!'

‘Tanisha, you're not going to spoil your cousin's day. I've just about had enough of your ill-informed comments. You don't know everything about our culture!'

Mum didn't stop there. She told Tanisha to stop seeing our culture as something to be looked down on, as this was a ceremony that
celebrated
womanhood, not degraded it. Taking part was like taking your place in the history of all these women.

Afterwards we went into the kitchen and joined Auntie Leila and Delphina.

‘Delphina, can you please stop peeling most of the yam? It's just the bark you have to remove, we eat the white part!' Auntie Leila said, breaking the tension and making us all laugh. It was funny seeing Delphina's square-looking slices of yam in the bowl.

Ten minutes later, Mum called me to my room.

‘Mum, you can't let them shave my hair!' I protested. ‘I don't mind the manicure and pedicure, but not my hair!'

‘What? No one's shaving your hair. They'll just take out your braids in a symbolic gesture.'

‘Oh,' I said.

Auntie Leila had just joined us and was giggling. ‘Did I just hear you say manicure and pedicure?'

‘Makeeda, where do you think you are – Selfridges? We haven't got time to do those,' Mum said, also starting to laugh.

I was the only one not laughing.

‘You're about to go into the river,' Mum went on. ‘You have your nails clipped so nothing gets caught under them.'

I just stared at them in disbelief.

‘Stop looking so scared. I'm doing it for you. Now get into the bathroom,' Auntie Leila said.

Scared? That had to be an understatement.

An hour or so later, I was dressed in another robe of white ntoma with my face concealed in a scarf. I was being carried to the river portion of my ceremony by my cousin Kofi. It was weird having him carry me on his back, but as this wasn't the first time we'd met it wasn't too embarrassing. I just kept hoping I didn't fart or anything, because he'd warned me that he'd drop me, walk off and then tell everyone.

I was keen to get to the river – the heat was almost unbearable, but at least I still had my hair.

There wasn't always a road or pavement on the way to the river, and as the government hadn't finished building in Nana's area, Kofi and I struggled initially. We had just reached the main road when Nana-Amma's car drove past us, with Mum, Delphy, Tanisha and Nana-Amma all waving as they whizzed by. We continued a little further and I noticed the vultures circling above the abattoir ahead.

‘You know, you may not look heavy, but you're definitely not light, Makeeda,' Kofi said.

‘Hey!'

‘Can you hop off for a bit?'

‘Sure,' I said, climbing down. ‘My back!' he said stretching.

‘Stop moaning! At least you're going to get an iPod out of

it!'

‘Yeah, so?' Kofi said, smiling.

‘So, I think you should just carry me without the snide remarks. You're getting paid, mate!' I said.

‘Said like a true Englishwoman,' he grinned, disappearing into a nearby shop.

He soon reappeared with a drink.

‘What did you mean by that?' I asked.

‘By what?' he asked.

‘By saying I'm a true Englishwoman.'

Kofi frowned. ‘Wait, are you denying your Englishness?'

‘No,' I replied, hesitating.

‘Makeeda, where were you born?'

‘England,' I said.

‘And where do you live?' he asked. ‘In London.'

‘OK then.' Kofi took a gulp of his drink. ‘So you don't think I'm Ghanaian?' I asked. Kofi shrugged.

‘Is that why everyone here calls me English girl?' Back in London, I sometimes felt like an outsider. I couldn't believe that here in Ghana, people still considered me different. So where did I actually belong?

‘Listen,' said Kofi, giving me some of his drink, ‘whether you like it or not, until you've lived here for ten years or so,
no one will ever really consider you Ghanaian. It's the same for me in England.'

‘No it's not,' I lied.

‘Come on, the last time I was in London, I was told I'd have to lose my accent to be considered English. I mean, you speak Twi with an English accent so it's the same, isn't it?'

I knew he had a point, but it still left an oddly bitter taste in my mouth.

‘You think my Twi is good then?' I asked him.

‘No, I never said that! If you were that good, we wouldn't be speaking in English.'

‘Oh cheers,' I said.

‘I just meant it's like an English version of Twi, but I can understand you … most of the time.' Kofi said, laughing.

‘Charming!'

‘Come on, stop looking so miserable. You'll bring on some of that horrible English rain that never stops!' Kofi said, offering his back for me to climb on to again.

‘Some chance,' I said, looking up at the scorching sun.

‘You know if you're good, maybe I won't trip over a rock and send you into the gutter.'

I winced. There were open gutters alongside the road, with all sorts of unpleasant stuff in them. I silently did as I was told. I realised that, despite getting paid for this, Kofi had had to give up his day and had probably cut short his evening last night, to be able to carry me to my ceremony.

‘It's all right. You're not really heavy; I just needed a break. Besides, I'm just glad you're not Tanisha – she probably would
end up in the gutter. I mean accidentally, of course!' he said. I couldn't see his smirk but could hear it.

‘Of course,' I replied, innocently.

We laughed and continued heading towards the river bank with the sun beating down on our heads.

‘We're nearly there,' Kofi said, cheerfully. Despite his tone, I could hear the relief in his voice.

Ahead, I could see dense forest just behind a row of small shop buildings. By the trees in front of a river stood most of the female members of our family. In the distance, some other people were watching too.

Kofi's mum looked on proudly, as he gently crouched so I could step off his back. Nana-Adowa called for me. She was standing in the middle of the river. Mum had already explained this part of the ceremony to me. Nana-Adowa was going to splash the water in my face. Mum had told me not to put on any make-up, as she didn't want my panda eyes ruining her photographs.

I watched as Nana-Adowa washed her arms and began a speech. Mum couldn't translate what Nana-Adowa was saying at this stage because some of the words she heard were an ancient form of Twi which not many people knew. I realised it was another method of maintaining the secrecy of the ceremony.

The water lapped across my feet as I waded towards Nana- Adowa. I felt her vice-like grip on my arms and the water suddenly felt less cold. I looked back at Mum, Delphy and Tanisha and smiled, just before I was bent double and literally
thrown into the water.

I panicked. Ohmigod, the woman is trying to drown me! Is this what Mum meant by splashing my face?

I emerged, spluttering and trying to catch my breath. It was not exactly the most dignified moment of my life. I tried to give Nana-Adowa my best cold, hard glare, but the water was stinging my eyes. Besides, I reckoned she could outstare anyone.

Mum came rushing over, helped me back to the shore and began drying me off.

‘You did really well,' she said, proudly.

‘I nearly drowned!' I muttered.

‘Yeah, Makeeda, I've caught the shocked look on your face perfectly!' Delphina giggled, as she showed everyone the camera image of me with my arms flailing around like a distressed animal. ‘It's such a classic. I wish I had the camcorder with me.

‘Shut up, Delphy!' Tanisha and I chorused.

‘Jinx!' we said and began the little-finger lock.

‘Ohmigod, how old are you two?' said Delphy. ‘I stopped calling jinx over seven years ago!' Mum took her off to talk to Nana-Amma and Kofi.

‘Sorry about earlier,' Tanisha said.

‘It's all right,' I said and we smiled at each other.

I wasn't sure she'd ever understand why I had decided to go ahead with the ceremony – it was confusing enough to me, but I just felt strongly that I wanted – and needed – to do it. I vaguely knew that I wanted a connection with my
Ghanaian heritage that went beyond the words on a page of a text book. I also knew that didn't make sense to everyone around me – but sometimes you don't have to completely understand or even like the stuff someone you love does. You just have to let them know that you're there anyway. I realised that Tanisha didn't have to fly to Ghana for this, but she did. It made me think about my relationship with Bharti. I had never completely understood why she kept her relationship with Rafi secret, but she knew I supported her. I wished she'd been here to see this.

We headed back to Nana-Amma's place and, as I was in the same car as Kofi, I had to hear about his heroics in taming the wild lion that had escaped from the local zoo and tried to attack me, so I was able to attend my ceremony. He had everyone in fits of laughter. I was beginning to like my cousin more and more.

Once we arrived, I was the centre of attention again. This time, I sat on the stool in a middle of Nana's living room. I had Bella sitting at my feet along with a male cousin about her age, called James; apparently they were meant to symbolise fertility – not something I wanted to think about, but I kept quiet. Nana-Adowa approached and fed me a whole boiled egg, which I had to eat slowly. Then I was fed some eto (a dish of seasoned mashed yam and onions), before Bella and James were invited to eat from the same bowl. By now, some of the children from Nana-Amma's neighbourhood had joined us. Once I and Bella and James had eaten, all hell broke loose as traditionally all the other children were meant
to finish the eto, so what felt like millions of hands dived into the bowl at once. Horrified, Bella screamed a rude word in Italian, and Auntie Leila almost hurled her into the bedroom. Luckily all the nanas were in the other room by then.

‘So, Makeeda, almost done now. How do you feel?' Mum asked.

That was one question I was still wasn't sure how to answer. I'd nearly completed the ceremony and all I could think was … it was OK. I didn't suddenly have access to lots of superior Ghanaian cultural knowledge and I didn't feel that different, so it was kind of … OK.

The next three days were the strangest I'd ever experienced. It was the last part of the bragoro and I did nothing. I was
allowed
to do absolutely nothing! Every time I went to do something, someone else got there first. It took Delphy and Tanisha a good few harsh looks from Nana-Adowa and Nana-Amma before they realised that they had to be at my beck and call, too.

Naturally, I milked it. I mean, I deserved it after going through the ceremony and those months of revision and exam stress! I even had Mum actually putting body lotion on me, and it wasn't the stuff that came out of a bottle, but shea butter in its most natural state that glided across my skin and made it really soft.

For those three days, Nana-Amma's home became an all-female enclave. We ate and drank, and I listened to the words spoken by Nana-Adowa and Nana-Amma as they explained
the secrets of womanhood. I had to turn away at some parts as Tanisha gave me looks of complete horror, and sometimes Mum and Auntie Leila could be heard coughing out some of their own laughter at the embarrassing comments their mothers made. I knew that I probably wasn't going to need most of this stuff back in England for ages, so I wasn't too bothered.

I was still being fed the most gorgeous food – so gorgeous that, even when I realised that my clothing was becoming a bit tight, I didn't mind too much. Nana-Amma and Nana- Adowa told me that the extra weight was on purpose, to help me find a husband. I could see Tanisha and Delphy nodding their heads in a sarcastic way, just out of the nanas' sight. I wondered what Nick would say when I turned up in London with my extra curves.

My skin was glowing from all the fresh fruit and shea butter, and even my hair was growing from the conditioning treatments I was being given. I barely had time to miss listening to my iPod or check for texts on my phone.

The last night came and I was dressed in special Kente Adwinisa – gold-coloured Kente with many different patterns and colours. Then I received presents from Nana-Adowa and Nana-Amma in the form of gold bangles and necklaces. Tanisha gave me her lip-gloss, which I'd been eyeing since I saw her use it, but she said mysteriously that my real present would be in England soon.

The next day I had to go to everyone's homes to thank them for all the help and presents I'd been given throughout the ceremony. It was great to finally be out of Nana-Amma's
house, but I was aware that all I was doing was entering someone else's to say thank you and not really getting into the fresh air. After the tenth ‘medaase', I was ready to head home.

When we got there, Comfort gave me a present from Nick's nana next door. She had called by while I was out. It was a beautiful necklace with a turquoise pendant. It was so stunning. I hadn't seen this woman since I was five or something, yet she knew just what I'd like.

‘Mum, I'm just going next door to say thanks,' I said.

‘Ooh, I'm coming too,' Tanisha said. ‘I haven't seen Nana in such a long time.'

‘Good. Don't stay too late, though, you know she's an old lady.'