Page 43 - Obruni In Ghana | Amber Lockridge

OBRUNI IN GHANA 41
“Eh! Sister Kukuwa, you are a very beautiful American girl.”
I peered at him skeptically from behind my sweaty mass of hair. I couldn’t imagine that the parts of me currently visible were all that appealing to look at. Besides which, I didn’t like the direction the conversation was heading. True to my suspicions, he began to inquire my age and parents’ names, trying all the while to get hold of my hand. I decided to try humor to discourage him. At the first mention of the word wife, I cried out in the native tongue.
“I don’t understand Fante! I can’t speak it at all.” One of the girls, assuming I really didn’t understand, leaned over to explain it in English.
“He will marry you.”
“Mennte Fante!” I cried again, “I don’t understand Fante.”
“You understand English?” he asked.
“Oh, no. I don’t understand English either.”
Everyone was laughing so hard, half the girls stopped plaiting. I decided to play my advantage. “I