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It was time to make another journey from Bolga to Accra. Those days, the most reliable means of transport from Bolga to Accra was STC. STC Yard was like an airport. People came to see off friends and relatives, and people came there to meet their loved ones. There were no domestic commercial flights then.
The bus took off at about 4:00pm. As was characteristic of me, I had managed to get a window seat. And as usual, I had a novel to try to read during the journey. My seat was close to two ladies with babies. Yes, both ladies had babies. Throughout the journey, the ladies chatted and laughed, or fed their babies. I didn’t mind the babies crying. But I minded very much the chatting and laughing. And I thought they were over feeding the babies!
I didn’t say a word to these women. I just looked at them and they understood immediately what I was trying to say. They understood that my eyes said, “Can you not be quiet for a moment? You can see I am trying to read”. They didn’t say a word to me. They looked right back at me and I understood. Their eyes said – “oh yeah? So you think you are cute? Did you see us when we were your age? We were cuter. And we had flatter tummies than yours. You just wait till you have a baby like we do now. You think you are it”. I didn’t say a word, but I rolled my eyes in my heard. They didn’t say a word too. But they saw the rolling of the eyes in my head. And I saw in their eyes the response “whatever”.
So the journey continued. Obviously, my neighbours and I were mutually unimpressed with each other. But we continued the journey in peace.
Finally, we got to Accra. And it so happened that we were getting down at the same bus stop. So there I was, right behind my two neighbours. Their husbands and friends of their husbands were waiting to pick them up. I heard a male voice say to the husbands of my two neighbours, in Talen, a Ghanaian language he believed I was unlikely to comprehend. “Your wives have brought me a wife”. I maintained my composure as though I had no clue what the man said. The woman turned and saw that the comment was made with reference to me. Her countenance changed to one of displeasure. She asked “which one?”
Sensing that he was unlikely to get support from this woman, he moved to one of his friends and repeated, “The bus has brought me a wife”. His friend looked at me and said “this one looks like a student. By now there is a long queue of men waiting to pay school fees. Trust me, you do not want to join that queue”. I was annoyed at this comment. Not the bit about joining a queue. But the bit about “paying school fees”. I wondered to myself, why would any man queue to pay school fees? And how on earth could anybody imagine that I could have “a man” rather than my family paying my school fees? You see, even as a student, I got a job every long vacation, worked hard, and made my own money for spending in school. I liked earning my own money. So I felt offended that someone would even think that there is some man somewhere paying my school fees, let alone a “long queue of men waiting to pay my school fees”.
I however maintained my “mumu’ composure, and went about ensuring that my luggage was in place. I was also receiving calls at the same time. Another of his friends remarked, “You could be right. I think there is someone on the other end of the phone who wants to pick her up but she is deliberately misleading the person on her whereabouts. It must be because there is more than one person to pick her up”.
This was upsetting. But I ignored them and focused on the task at hand. I was not one to be easily distracted. The man was however persistent. He remarked I think to one of the other friends, “I have found a wife”. I had still not even looked in the direction of the group of men having this conversation. But at this point, I knew I liked this man for two reasons: he was confident in his own feelings/perceptions, and he seemed one not to be deterred easily. He didn’t seem to hear the prejudicial reasons being offered on why he ought not to “join the queue”. Fact is, none of them knew me. And all of their comments were their perceptions and judgments based purely on appearances. But I still did not look in their direction. I was busy getting my luggage and trying to get a taxi at a fair fare to my destination.
The man then remarked to one of his friends: “the way we are discussing this lady notwithstanding that she is within earshot,what if it so happens that she understands Talen”? At this point, I knew I really liked this guy. You see, I was quite used to people discussing me in a language they believed I did not understand. Most of this usually happens in my own mother tongue. So being a subject of discussion in a language the discussants believed I did not understand, (particularly one that was not my mother tongue), was ‘normal’ to me. However, this was the first time one of the discussants considered the possibility of “what if she could speak our language’! This man must be intelligent. I said to myself. And then, I looked straight at the man who had “found a wife”. For the first time. I looked straight into his eyes. They were the most charming pair of eyes I had ever seen. The guy was shy. I spoke in clear Talen “ you do not need to worry about that. This lady here does not understand any Talen”. He vanished.
To be continued.
By Clara Beeri
