‘Even still, our men do not go South to cut grass. This is for those further north. They of the wilderness, it is they who go South to cut grass. This is not for our men.’

‘Please M’ma, already time is going. Hawa is a new mother and Fuseni my first child.’

‘And yet you are leaving them to go South and cut grass.’

‘But M’ma, what will be the use in my staying here and watching them starve? You yourself know that all the cola went bad, and even if they had not, with trade as it is, how much money do you think I would have got from them? And that is why I am going. Trade is broken and since we do not know when things will be good again, I think it will be better for me to go away.’

‘Does Hawa know?’

‘No, she does not.’

‘Are you coming to wake her up at this late hour to tell her?’

‘No.’

‘You are wise.’

‘M’ma, I have left everything in the hands of Amadu. He will come and see Hawa tomorrow.’

‘Good. When shall we expect you back?’

‘. . .’

‘Issa . . .’

‘M’ma.’

‘When shall we expect you back?’

‘M’ma, I do not know. Perhaps next Ramaddan.’

‘Good.’

‘So I go now.’

Allah go with you.’

‘And may His prophet look after you all.’

M’ma went straight back to bed, but not to sleep. And how could she sleep? At dawn, her eyes were still wide-open.

‘Is his family noted for males that rot? No, certainly not. It is us who are noted for our unlucky females. There must be something wrong with them. . . . Or how is it we cannot hold our men? Allah, how is it?

Twenty years ago. Twenty years, perhaps more than twenty years . . . perhaps more than twenty years and Allah please, give me strength to tell Hawa.

Or shall I go to the market now and then tell her when I come back? No. Hawa, Hawa, now look at how you are stretched down there like a log! Does a mother sleep like this? Hawa, H-a-a-w-a! Oh, I shall not leave you alone. . . . And how can you hear your baby when it cries in the night since you die when you sleep?

. . . Listen to her asking me questions! Yes, it is broad daylight. I thought you really were dead. If it is cold, draw your blanket round you and listen to me for I have something to tell you.

Hawa, Issa has gone South.

And why do you stare at me with such shining eyes? I am telling you that Issa is gone south.

And what question do you think you are asking me? How could he take you along when you have a baby whose navel wound has not even healed yet?

He went away last night.