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Back No Sweetness Here: and Other Stories Save as PDF
Chapters (15)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. Everything Counts
  5. For Whom Things Did Not Change
  6. In the Cutting of a Drink
  7. The Message
  8. Certain Winds from the South
  9. No Sweetness Here
  10. A Gift from Somewhere
  11. Two Sisters
  12. The Late Bud
  13. Something to Talk About on the Way to the Funeral
  14. Other Versions
  15. Afterword

‘She said she will go with us to the red-earth pit.’

‘O . . . O!’ The group around the hearth was amazed but they did not show it before the children.

‘Yoo. You go today. She may come with you next time.’

‘Yoo, Mother.’

‘Walk well, my children. When she wakes up, we shall tell her you came.’

‘We cannot understand it. Yaaba? What affected her head?’

‘My sister, the world is a strange place. That is all.’

‘And my sister, the child that will not do anything is better than a sheep.’

‘Benyiwa, we will go and lie down a little.’

‘Good morning.’

‘Good morning.’

‘Good morning.’

‘Yoo. I thank you all.’

So Maami went into the apartment and closed the door. She knelt by the sleeping Yaaba and put her left hand on her bound chest. ‘My child, I say thank you. You were getting ready to go and fetch me red earth? Is that why you were holding the hoe? My child, my child, I thank you.’

And the tears streamed down her face. Yaaba heard ‘My child’ from very far away. She opened her eyes. Maami was weeping and still calling her ‘My child’ and saying things which she did not understand.

Is Maami really calling me that? May the twins come. Am I Maami’s own child?

‘My child Yaaba . . .’

But how will I get red earth?

But why can I not speak . . .?

‘I wish the twins would come . . .’

I want to wear the gold earrings . . .

I want to know whether Maami called me her child. Does it mean I am her child like Adwoa is? But one does not ask our elders such questions. And anyway, there is too much pain. And there are barriers where my chest is.

Probably tomorrow . . . but now Maami called me ‘My child!’ . . .

And she fell asleep again.

Something to Talk About on the Way to the Funeral

Something to Talk About on the Way to the Funeral

. . . Adwoa my sister, when did you come back?

‘Last night.’

Did you come specially for Auntie Araba?

‘What else, my sister? I just rushed into my room to pick up my akatado when I heard the news. How could I remain another hour in Tarkwa after getting such news? I arrived in the night.’

And your husband?

‘He could not come. You know government-work. You must give notice several days ahead if you want to go away for half of one day. O, and so many other problems. But he will see to all that before next Akwanbo. Then we may both be present for the festival and the libation ceremony if her family plans it for a day around that time.’

Did you hear the Bosoë dance group practising the bread song?