When I moved in here, she was one of the people who proved to me that I wasn’t going to have any problem living in this compound. But now, she isn’t speaking to me anymore. Every time she sees me, she wears a very big frown. Her face folds into all kinds of shapes. I greet her, and she either chooses to ignore me or barely grunts a response.

Even if she’s laughing or smiling at someone else and then spots me, her mood changes instantly. This is bothering me a lot because I never imagined things could escalate to something like this. Please, am I at fault? How can I salvage this situation?

Here’s how it all started.

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Her apartment is adjacent to mine. Every morning, when she sweeps, she sweeps my side of the designated area, and I return the favour whenever I wake up before her. If she ever caught me sweeping, she would collect the broom from my hands before I could even take the next sweep. “Stop this, please, this is a lady’s chore,” she would say. As a matter of fact, she’s such a sweet soul. We were very cordial with each other.

Last week, I rushed outside to pick up my belongings from the clothesline and other belongings of mine I left outside. I could hear it all from my bedroom — the intensity of the thunder, then the pattering of raindrops on the roof. It was very dark and windy too. I picked up the things I had left outside. My sweet neighbour had also done her laundry that morning, and I recognised her clothes, so I moved to pick them up because she wasn’t at home.

I brought out a big basin and folded her clothes nicely. I removed nearly everything — but not her panties and bras. Should I remove them? Should I touch them? Is it appropriate? Won’t she be upset? Questions were flooding my head while the sky was getting darker and the thunder was striking. I left them there and ran inside with the ones I had rescued.

Later in the evening, after the rain, she came back home and knocked on my door. When I opened it, she greeted me with a very fierce scowl and asked about her clothes. I went inside and handed her the bowl containing the clean laundry and drying pegs. She said to me, “If you knew you couldn’t remove all the things I dried, you should have left all of them to be drenched by the rain.” Then she went on, “Are you telling me that those useless girls you bring here to sleep with are cleaner and more hygienic than I am? Or are their panties more beautiful than mine?” I couldn’t utter a word, because I have never seen her so angry and disrespectful to anyone since I moved into this compound. She chuckled bitterly, entered her room, and banged the door behind her. Gbam.

Now, hmm. Why didn’t I remove them? In my mind, it felt inappropriate, an intrusion of privacy. And, of course, my ego didn’t allow me to touch the underwear of a lady who is not a relative or partner of mine. We are respectful of each other, and I didn’t think it would be respectful.

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So, I am asking you as a lady: how exactly would you feel if a man who is not your relative or boyfriend removed your bra and panties from the drying line? Wouldn’t the heavens break loose? Wouldn’t you go mad and crazy over it? She is giving me this attitude, and since I moved here, she has been one of my favourite neighbours. Losing her neighbourliness would be devastating. So, I am asking: what else can I do to appease my neighbour? And even, did I do wrong?

—Buabeng

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