‘He was a German Jew, he died in Britain. How come you failed your exams? You look intelligent.’ He was standing before the door, facing me, twisting and untwisting his goatee. I was five eight, and he looked to be about the same height as me; but I was only fifteen. I opened and closed the book. I remained silent. Now he bent down so that his face was level with mine. He had bushy eyebrows: continuous and unbroken over the nose ridge. His eyes were huge and effulgent in his long, narrow face. They looked kind as he smiled at me.

‘I’ll help you prepare for your English and literature, that is what your aunt is paying me for – but I want you to know that I cannot make you pass. Only you can do that for yourself. It depends on how much you want it – in fact, you can achieve almost anything you want to in this world if you want it bad enough. Do you agree?’

I came to find out that that was his characteristic way of ending his statements, interrogatively, making you feel you were part of the decision; and often his suggestions were not too hard to agree with. I nodded.

‘Good,’ he said. He went and drew out his shoes from under the table. ‘I have to go out now. Tell your aunt we’ve met. Tell her we’ll start lessons next week, same time. OK?’

‘OK,’ I replied. He picked up a shirt from the jumble on the bed and put it on. When I stood up, he said, ‘You can stay if you want. You can lock up later. You can read or something. No? OK, I’ll lend you a book. Not Marx. Take something else. Have you read Treasure Island?’

‘Yes.’

‘Good. Here’s something on the author. Biography is about the best read you can ever have. It has a bit of everything inside it: history, psychology, literature, and also a lot of silly opinion. Read it – next week we’ll start our lessons with a discussion on it. Is that OK?’

Two days later, on a Saturday, he dropped in at the restaurant and took me to the beach.

‘Have you ever seen the ocean?’ he asked when I brought him his plate of rice. I was helping Nancy, the cook and waitress, who had gone in to put her child to sleep. I had never seen the ocean – there were only rivers and lakes in Jos, where I was born and where I had lived all my life.

‘Go and get ready. Tell your aunt I am taking you to the beach.’