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My mom had an accident and broke her leg. Literally. She wasn’t taken to the hospital. She was carried to a traditional bone specialist to treat her with herbs. She was there for over five months. I was seventeen years old. Her accident happened a day before my seventeenth birthday.
My dad was a carpenter and was well sought after because of his good joinery work. When my mom was at the healing camp, I became a mother to my two other siblings. One evening, my dad took the younger one, Yofi, away and came back without him. A few weeks later, he took the other one, Abena, away and also came back without her. When I asked him, he told me he had taken them to the city for vacation, meanwhile, school was still ongoing.
A few days later, when I’d returned from a visit to my mom, he asked me to go to the market with him. I picked the basket and followed him. He said he wanted to see a friend first before the market so we took a car to the next village and waited by a dusty road where no one walked by or even a car passed. A few minutes later, a car arrived. There were two men seated in the car. My dad asked me to wait while he walked to them.
I didn’t hear what they were saying but occasionally, they’d all look at me and then turn away and continue talking. Their voices got louder, those in the car were not happy about something but my dad was still talking in a low tone as if he was pleading for something those in the car weren’t willing to give. Later, they drove off angrily while staring at me.
My dad stood there for a while, looking at the dust behind the car until the car vanished from view. He shook his head and walked to me with his shoulders hanging low. I asked what the problem was. He shouted, “Keep quiet and walk.”
When we got to the market, my dad told an old woman who was selling in a corner, “Mom, let me leave my child with you and buy some stuff there. I’ll come back for her soon.”
It was late afternoon in 1997. That was the last time I saw my dad.
The sun set on me in the market. The woman was worried. She asked if I knew where my dad was going. Finally, when the darkness fell, she asked if I could find my way home and I said yes. Nonetheless, she walked with me until I got home. Our door was locked. The woman next door told me my dad came home and hurriedly left with his bags hanging on his shoulders. “Ah what’s happening?” I asked myself.
Three Months After Our Breakup, He Got Married
I went to my mom at the healer’s camp and told her what had happened. When her elder sister came, she asked her to leave with me. What was happening was heard through whispers. When I asked where my siblings were, no one was willing to say it but you could hear murmurs of trouble. You could feel a lot was going on but no one was talking about it. I would go to my mom and she would cry while mentioning my dad’s name. I was like, “Hey, are they dead or something?”
PART 2 COMES UP AT EXACTLY 3PM TODAY
—Adoma
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