ON DORA
Dora
‘Ama Dora! Stop singing! Do you want to kill me before my time?’
She could hear her mother from the kitchen. She did not stop. How many times did she have to explain to Mother that singing in the bathroom doesn’t kill anybody?
She came out to her mother dishing out the fufu while her father lay in his wooden lazy chair. Well, is he not a man, and is he not in his world? She believed that education – Western education – is a liberating tool that ought to be employed by every individual; even Mother, if she wants to. Just the previous day, Mother had scolded her for serving salty garden eggs stew. ‘If you take this to marriage, your husband will bring you back home oh.’ Dora—the name she preferred to be called by – could feel and hear her heart pound so hard whenever she recalled that statement. Will it not cook if a man puts it on fire? she had retorted, and said that only weak and uneducated men marry women to take care of their lazy and irresponsible selves. There has been an unspoken war waged against Dora by her father since the incident.
Nana, Dora’s paternal grandmother, hardly spoke to anyone especially Dora. And if Dora could remember anything at all, it was her usual, ‘Ama Serwaa,’—the name Nana chose to call Dora—‘be careful. Watch that your eyes do not pass your brow. When a child sees the eye of the crab, he calls it a stick. And mind you, what the elderly sees sitting, a child will not see, even on top of the tallest tree.’
All the while that she applied the whisked shea butter onto her fine melanin skin, she scorned her failure in the math test in school. How could she allow herself to be second to Kusi? She was just two marks away from hundred percent. She had to prove herself capable of whatever she thought. Don’t expect me to say anything; I am equally curious to know what.
She joined her mother and Agyapong, her little brother, in the kitchen. Nana ate in front of her door while Paapa, her father, was already washing his hands. Not long after she sat down, Paapa had announced that he was joining the men under the tree.
‘I have been selected to represent my school in an inter-school quiz,’ Dora announced knowing well that her mother had not understood anything she had said. For Maame, it had to do with school and that was good. ‘I’ll go to Attaa’s after washing the dishes; we have to learn.’
‘Mmo! Make sure you don’t stay long. The nights are for the unseen,’ Mother said still looking into the bowl of food. Just at that, Agyapong sprang to his feet. He sniffed some air and said in a nasal voice, ‘Sekarate will catch you!’
Agyapong rushed off to wash his hands and stumbled over the fufu mortar. ‘Watch yourself!’ Dora warned. Mother asked him in a relaxed tone where he was going. ‘I’m going to the Aduase. Agya Koo will be telling Ananse stories,’ Agyapong answered while running out of the compound: they could hardly hear his last words.
Dora was upset that her mother had scolded her. Yes, she came late, but had anybody harmed her? She recalled Mother’s voice saying, ‘Nobody will harm because we are a good people. Both good and evil spirits come out at night, and the sight of them is harmful to the human soul.’
She picked her book to read. Agyapong got up to pass urine in a chamber pot close to the entrance. The village was so quiet that the only sound one heard were chirpings coming from the nearby bushes.
‘What are you reading?’ Agyapong enquired, almost whispering, as he lay down by his sister.
‘Science.’ She paused and thought of the simplest way to explain what he was seeing in the book to his seven-year-old mind. ‘It’s about how human beings came about… well, monkeys gradually transformed into humans.’
‘So, you’re saying we were once monkeys?’ Agyapong looked confused.
‘Something like that.’
‘But Agya Koo said we came from a big tree. He said we were led by a dog with fire in its mouth!’ Oh Agyapong! Such a gullible soul!
Dora scorned at that statement. ‘Well, that’s not true. They are just stories.’
‘But how do you know this is true?’ he asked pointing at the book.
‘Because it is science.’
‘So have you seen a monkey grow into a human being before?’ For a seven-year-old, that was a genuine question, and if the answer were positive, his curiosity would have heightened by a thousand percent.
‘Go to sleep!’
Mother could hear the far sound of the knock. Then it got closer and harder. She startled awake at the last pound.
‘Who is there?’ she asked though fully aware it was her daughter.
‘It’s me – Dora.’
Just at the sight of her mother, Dora could tell how angry Mother was – Mother was breathing hard that it looked like her heart was going to jump out through her chest. Dora stood with her right leg behind ready to dodge Mother’s first blow.
‘Where are you coming from? Huh? Why are you so stubborn?’ Mother caught hold of the cloth around her waist which was falling. Dora stood there, prepared for a slap on her back – that didn’t come, but Mother’s anger-talk. ‘If something happens to you, who will I tell? Because of you, they talk to me as if I were a child. Nobody respects me in this house! Why, did I impregnate myself?! Nobody helps me, yet they want everything in this world.’ She moved to the bed and took off her top and wrapped her cloth around her. When Dora thought it was all over, Mother shot up again:
‘Everyday “Adomaa this… Adomaa that”. I go to the farm, come home to take care of the house and go to the market to go and sell. What do you do in this house? You never lift a finger, yet you will come complaining of my parenting skills. You think me to be a servant or what! No wonder; a royal is one whose father is alive. Mtchew!’
At this point, Dora knew she wasn’t the target. The target was snoring in the hut opposite them, and did not hear any of that. Mother went on and on, but Dora was too tired to hear any of that – she already knew all the next lines.
Mother had been calling Dora from the kitchen. When she managed to sit up on her mat, she faintly responded, ‘Maame!’ Morning had come too early for Dora. The compound had been neatly swept. She walked lazily towards her mother. ‘Maame, I’ve come.’
Mother looked at her. Dora had swollen eyes – she had to learn to make Mother proud. ‘Get me some water from the borehole,’ Mother ordered.
The villagers were so grateful to the man they have known for over twenty years as the District Chief Executive – he provided the village with good water; healthier than the stream.
Dora noticed Nana and greeted her. No one expected to see Paapa home at this time; he was out greeting every household. The people believed in strong social relationships, and moreover, it was a tradition of the men and old folks.
Dora filled all the stainless steel barrels with water to compensate mother for sweeping the compound. She got ready for school and helped Agyapong with his homework.
‘Maame, we are leaving oo.’
Mother rushed out to give them their “chop” money. ‘Ama Dora, please come home early today.’
They waved Mother bye, and went on their way.
It had been a week, and Mother was still battling Dora over her coming home late. Three days ago, Mother had gotten deep in sleep, and did not hear Dora knock. Paapa came to Mother’s hut and screamed her name. When they were successful at waking her up, Paapa said some very hurtful words to Mother, and they all went to sleep in silence.
And this evening, Paapa had returned from Aduase to only three people in the household. His countenance changed at that.
‘Where is your daughter?’
Mother did not respond to the question. She kept hunting for lice in Agyapong’s hair.
‘Look!’ Paapa shot at Mother, ‘Tell that good-for-nothing daughter of yours not to come into my house late at night ever again! The next time she appears here late, I will shoot her like a criminal. Useless woman!’ He walked to his room still fuming yet, contented at the show he put up – that was manly.
Mother turned to look at Nana who seemed to have been blind to whatever that happened. At this, Mother broke into tears and rushed into her hut. Agyapong could hear his mother’s loud cry. He blinked away the tears that had gathered in his eyes.
Dora hummed her favourite ‘Aben W’aha’ by Daddy Lumba, while crossing the wood bridge that separated her village from Ahodwo. The village was so quiet and peaceful.
A strong wind blew towards Dora from the east. She looked up into the sky; there were no heavy clouds. Then, the atmosphere was calm again.
She realized a swift movement. She stopped. She became nervous, but shook it off. After all, these superstitious stories are not real.
As she approached the famous Aduase – a neem tree – she noticed a shadow cast before her. She stopped. It also stopped. She walked, and it walked with her. She stopped again, and it stopped. Dora began to get scared. She gathered courage and turned, and there he was – a very tall lanky man who looked like bamboos put together. SEKARETE!…Skeleton!
She threw her books away and took to her heels. No matter how fast she ran, Sekerate closed in on her. All she needed was to get home – at least, that is what she told herself. She screamed while she ran hoping someone would hear her, and come to her aid. All this while, she wondered why she had not believed the stories.
[Musicals]
She gets home and bangs on her mother’s door…
Me maame ee bue me (3x)
(My mother ee open me)
Na Sekarete b’ɛkye me
(Skeleton is coming to catch me)
Mother responds…
Ͻ nkye wo oo Dora (3x)
(It should catch you oo, Dora)
Wo kɔ abɔnten aa bra ntɛm
(If you step out, come back early)
Sekarete caught hold of her and literally plucked off her pinnae. She shrieked aloud. He let her go. She ran to her father’s hut almost stumbling…
Me papa ee bue me (3x)
(My father ee open me)
Na Sekarete b’ɛkye me
(Skeleton is coming to catch me)
Her father responds…
Ͻ nkye wo oo Dora (3x)
(It should catch you oo, Dora)
Wo kɔ abɔnten aa bra ntɛm
(If you step out, come back early)
Sekerate grabbed her again and plucked off her right fingers. He let her go. She may not be Nana’s favourite, but she is Nana’s only granddaughter. Don’t all grandmothers have a soft spot for their grandchildren?? She ran to her grandmother’s hut…
Me nana ee bue me (3x)
(My gandmother ee open me)
Na Sekarete b’ɛkye me
(Skeleton is coming to catch me)
Her grandmother responds…
Ͻ nkye wo oo Dora (3x)
(It should catch you oo, Dora)
Wo kɔ abɔnten aa bra ntɛm
(If you step out, come back early)
Sekarete caught hold of Dora, and plucked off her right arm. He released her. She ran screaming for help, but it seemed the air swallowed her voice.
HELP! HELP! HELP! Without thinking of where she was running to, she delved into the bush. Whenever she looked back, the bush got thicker behind her, and Sekarete was closing in on her.
HELP! HELP! HELP! Without thinking of where she was running to, she delved into the bush. Whenever she looked back, the bush got thicker behind her, and Sekarete was closing in on her.
Run, Dora! Run! But where will you go to?
Run, Dora! Run! But where will you go to?
