He is not that bad, just a bit ratty at times, sir, I say, not knowing why I am defending him.

He will be an old man one day, in this village,

living a life of regret at what he was unable

to do. Do you desire the same?

…

I want to say the most important thing

is to continue reading the texts I offer

and deepen your study, then one day

you too may attend a missionary school.

Perhaps you may even be lucky enough to leave this place, okay.

But Kwanta is our home, the Asante, our people… sir.

You must think bigger than the Asante, Kofi Offin.

We are the Gold Coast.

Our waters can take you to other places,

other wonderful worlds

far away from here

with learned men

and masters of opportunity.

One day, you will see.

…

But first you must culture yourself.

Until the elders allow me

to officially teach the Queen’s language

you will need to learn on your own,

for that is the only way you will sharpen it.

Do you understand, Kofi Offin?

Yes, sir.

You will take the book home, yes?

Yes, please.

…

Thank you, sir.

That is all.

May I go now, sir?

Good day, Kofi Offin.

Goodbye, sir.

JUST IN TIME

I race down

to the river

where I find

a throng of mates

flopping

in the waters

splashing

each other

and Ebo trying

to ride

a strip of timber

upstream.

You really should make one of these, chale, he yells at me.

I am fine just swimming, I answer, trying to hide my jealousy of his board, before diving in.

THE BIG ROCK

There is a place

far out,

away from

people

watching,

where the water

is crystal clear,

its stream, smooth

and steady.

This is where I go

to swim

and think.

FINGERS FIRST

I leap into Offin

from a tree

head following

feet bouncing

barely breaking

the surface

arms flapping

with the flow

the whole of me

gliding toward

the middle

of the river.

When I get to the big rock

I flip around

and swim back.

On my third trek

I float in the current

stare at the copper sky

think about Ama’s scent

and her smile,

then float away,

letting the current carry me

letting the warmth

of the fading sun

bathe me

as I watch it completely disappear

like a dream.

DUSK

I hear my brother

hollering

at us

from the riverbank like

an angry hyena

for me to get out

of the water

NOW!

CONVERSATION WITH KWASI

Maame does not want you near the river at sundown.

It is just turning dark. Why is she always so worried? I am fine.

You are only fine until you are not. It is not safe for a boy.

I am almost a grown man. I should not be treated like a child.

The river does not care how grown you are.

You know I am a swimmer. You have seen me.