and the birds

way up

into the graying clouds.

INJURED

Unable to walk

Lower must replace Bonsu

or forfeit the match.

KWASI VS. PRINCE YAW

The drummer bangs

a slow, steady

Konn-konn

Tinn-tinn

Konn-konn

Tinn-tinn

as the wrestlers pound fists

and kneel in a bent stance

with one knee

on the ground.

Nana Mosi says

that it was once customary

for the winner of the men’s contest

to take the winner of the women’s

for his wife,

so that the children

would exceed

their talent.

Those old ways

have been abandoned

for a simpler prize:

the winning fighter

receives ten Benda of gold,

and his King,

tenfold that.

At the blast

of the horn,

Yaw leaps,

clapping both feet

in the air,

electrifying the crowd

and surprising

even my brother

with his spryness.

Kwasi rises

from his crouching position,

tries and fails

to grab hold

of Yaw.

The sun is fading,

the air is thick

with the smell

of boiled nuts

and burning cedar,

and the promise

of pain

and triumph,

and when Yaw throws

his head

into Kwasi’s head,

and knocks him

to the ground,

the people of Lower roar

with approval.

HUMILITY

Once, when Kwasi and I

were playing Oware,

Maame brought me

a bowl of boiled plantains

to snack on.

Each time Kwasi captured my stones

in the game

he would jump up

and dance in celebration, so

the first time I got his,

wanting to be like my big brother,

I did the same.

I took even more stones

and I celebrated even more,

as he watched me,

shaking his head.

Eventually, my luck ran out

and he beat me

again, but at least

I had my boiled plantains

that Maame cooked

for me especially.

As he walked away

the victor, I looked

into the bowl

and it was empty.

Ei, KWASI! Why do you steal my plantains? They were not yours.

Little brother, do not let your cockiness blind you, he said, laughing, with a mouthful of my snack. Let that be a lesson to you.

Yaw boasts,

does backflips

to show off

his coming victory,

but in the middle

of his rejoicing,

Kwasi turns his head

to me

with a confidence

written across his face

that I could only wish for,

and winks.

LAST MAN STANDING

My now-smiling brother

slowly gets up,

begins chanting the war song too,

which startles Yaw

and everyone else.

The drummer’s pace quickens

as they square up.

Kum-PUM PUM! Kum-PUM PUM!

Yaw attacks again

and again

but this time

Kwasi dodges him

left and right

until it is obvious

that the Prince is growing

annoyed.

Kum-PUM PUM! Kum-PUM PUM!

Kum-PUM PUM! Kum-PUM PUM!

With both fists clenched

in the air, Kwasi

lunges at Yaw.

They lock arms

around each other’s necks,

trading shots to the ribs.

Kum-PUM PUM!

Kum-PUM PUM!

Then, in an electrifying series

of moves, Kwasi somehow manages

to throw an elbow

right above Yaw’s heart