“She said Abena and her son will visit her this evening,” Bruno explained. “So, I will see if I can get one of the boy’s shirts.”

“How are you going to do that?” Nii asked.

Bruno chewed on the inside of his cheek. “I don’t know.”

He was quiet almost the entire journey as he thought it over. Traffic from town to Madina was impossible. As they waited in the gridlock that plagued the stretch from the 37 Roundabout up to the Accra Mall interchange, the customary itinerant traders plied the lanes between vehicles waving food and cheap goods in the windows for a quick, on-the-run sale. Bruno was idly watching a vendor ahead of them with a skyscraper load of children’s clothes balanced on her head when a brainwave struck. He lowered the window and emitted a sharp whistle to catch her attention. Her merchandise was still rock steady on its human perch as she ran up eagerly to Bruno. He asked for a T-shirt to fit a thirteen-year-old. He had no idea how big or small Kojo was, but he would take his chances.

He chose a canary yellow one as cars began to move forward. “Do you have another one, same size?” he asked her.

Rummaging through her collection while half-trotting alongside the vehicle, the trader found a duplicate and Bruno paid her just as traffic finally began moving.

It was almost seven when they reached Madina. Nii parked, but looked unsure whether he was getting out or not.

“What are you waiting for?” Bruno asked, shooting Nii a look.

“I’m shy of your sister,” he confessed.

Bruno laughed and sucked his teeth. “You are not serious. She won’t do anything. Come on, let’s go.”

They walked along the uneven pathway between houses until they came to Emma’s. Bruno knocked and called out, “Kokoo ko!”

Emma came to the door. “Ei, Bruno! So, you came after all. I thought maybe you weren’t.”

“Sorry, sis. Traffic. Nii brought me.”

“Come in, come in,” Emma said. “Hi, Nii. Thank you for coming.”

“Good evening,” Nii muttered.

“He’s shy,” Bruno said, laughing.

Nii glared at him and gave him a mock slap to the back of his head. “Shut up. I’m not.”

Emma laughed at them. “Silly boys. Come and meet Abena and Kojo.”

In the thick of cooking, Abena offered her wrist to the two men instead of a full handshake on introduction.

“This is Kojo,” Emma said, kneeling next to him.

Bruno followed her cue and addressed Kojo. “How are you? Give me five.”

Kojo, glued to his tablet, ignored him.

Emma smiled. “He has to get used to you first.”

“I brought something for him,” Bruno said to Abena, producing the new T-shirt, still in its shrink wrapping.

“Oh!” Abena cried. “Medaase!”

“That’s so nice of you,” Emma said to Bruno. She was genuinely surprised at his gesture. She would not have predicted it of him.