‘Pour anowata into her nose!’ – and the mothers ran into their husbands’ chambers to bring their giant-sized bottles of the sweetest scents. ‘Touch her feet with a little fire.’ . . . ‘Squeeze a little ginger juice into her nose.’

The latter was done and before she could suffer further ordeals, Yaaba’s eyelids fluttered up.

‘Aa. . . . Oo . . . we thank God. She is awake, she is awake.’ Everyone said it. Some were too far away and saw her neither in the faint nor awake. But they said it as they trooped back to piece together their broken sleep. Egya Yaw, the village medicine-man, examined her and told the now-mad Maami that she should not worry. ‘The impact was violent but I do not think anything has happened to the breast-bone. I will bind her up in beaten herbs and she should be all right in a few days.’ ‘Thank you, Egya,’ said Maami, Paapa, her grandmother, the other mothers and all her relatives. The medicine-man went to his house and came back. Yaaba’s brawniest uncles beat up the herbs. Soon, Yaaba was bound up. The cock had crowed once, when they laid her down. Her relatives then left for their own homes. Only Maami, Paapa and the other mothers were left. ‘And how is she?’ one of the women asked.

‘But what really happened?’

‘Only Benyiwa can answer you.’

‘Benyiwa, what happened?’

‘But I am surprised myself. After she had eaten her kenkey this afternoon, I heard her movements in the outer room but I did not mind her. Then she went away and came back when it was dark to eat her food. After our talk, I went to sleep. And there she was lying. As usual, she had not had a wash, so I just held her . . .’

‘You held her what? Had she met with death you would have been the one that pushed her into it – beating a child in the night!’

‘But Yaaba is too troublesome!’

‘And so you think every child will be good? But how did she come to fall in the tray?’

‘That is what I cannot tell. My eyes were just playing me tricks when I heard some noise in the outer room.’

‘Is that why you cried “Thief”?’

‘Yes. When I went to see what it was, I saw her lying in the tray, clutching a hoe.’

‘A hoe?’

‘Yes, Adwoa’s hoe.’

‘Perhaps there was a thief after all? She can tell us the truth . . . but . . .’

So they went on through the early morning. Yaaba slept. The second cock-crow came. The church bell soon did its Christmas reveille. In the distance, they heard the songs of the dawn procession. Quite near in the doorway, the regular pat, pat of the twins’ footsteps drew nearer towards the elderly group by the hearth. Both parties were surprised at the encounter.

‘Children, what do you want at dawn?’

‘Where is Yaaba?’

‘Yaaba is asleep.’

‘May we go and wake her, she asked us to.’

‘Why?’