Page 39 - Obruni In Ghana | Amber Lockridge

OBRUNI IN GHANA 37
I lost my thoughts in this metaphor for some time. 2:00, 3:00, who could tell? I swam in a timeless daze. The only thing keeping me stationary and sane was the knowledge that it would all be over soon. But as 4:00 crept closer, I grew uneasy. The girls on the right side of my head were picking at the top hairs now. But was that a tug near my left ear? Hesitation became certainty when a piece of hair just above that very ear was viciously yanked out to a 90- degree angle. One, two, three, four...blue bobbed in and out of my receptive field. I had been deceived! Misled into believing my taxi ride home was a whistle away. I shifted my legs in consternation and accidentally kicked the girl in front of me. Somewhere, Freud might have chuckled.
With a sigh, I strengthened my resolve, thinking about the awe I would soon be soaking in. Wearily, I tried again to obtain the second book from my bag. I was fortunate to receive it on the third repetition of “Me pa okyo, fa me bag mame”. Relieved, I turned to Agatha Christie’s Endless Night.