“Welcome, ma,” he said.
“Thank you.”
The inside of the car was cool. Adrian sat in front.
“So how was your flight?”
“Good. I slept for most of it. How’s your week here been?”
“Great. I’ve taught at the university a few times already. Seen old friends. They’re older, richer. Maybe I should have stayed on too.”
“Have you spoken to Francis?”
“Not directly, but everything’s been fixed with his secretary. He sent a note through her. He seems pleased I’m here. I’ve told him I’m coming with a friend, but of course I’ve left the big reveal to you. It seems best to do it in person.”
I trembled physically, like a current had passed through me. “Next Monday,” I said.
“Yes, but I’d forget about it till then. Enjoy the city. See the sights.”
It was easy to convince Adrian to accompany me to Bamana. He had Bamanaian friends he had not seen in years and he was curious to witness how this drama with Kofi’s love-child would conclude, a historian’s voyeurism perhaps. He’d arranged to guest-lecture on twentieth-century African history at the university in Segu, his academic contacts from decades ago now senior heads of department.
Outside, night had fallen. The streets were well lit. When the car slowed at a junction, people approached with various items to sell. It made no sense to suddenly purchase a hat but perhaps the urge to buy hats came often to Bamanaians.
“Look, a puppy,” I said.
“Don’t stare. He’ll think you want to buy it.”
The man thrust the puppy at my window. Its eyes were closed but its back legs twitched in its sleep.
“Who’d buy a pet in traffic?”
“It’s for eating,” the driver said. “They’re not allowed to do it. They only come out in the night.”
Most of the buildings were walled, but the walls were low—a man Adrian’s height could jump over. The pavements were full of people making their way home, workers in suits boarding crammed buses. They held on to the handrails, hung like meat to dry. Commuting was the same. I sat back in my seat and dozed.
“We’re here,” Adrian said.
The fountain in the lobby of the Palace Hotel spurted red, white, and blue. The lights changed color underwater. The floors were marble, polished until they reflected blurred images. I walked to the welcome desk.
“Good evening, madam. Checking in?” The receptionist wore a maroon blazer and a striped tie. Wooden beads swung at the ends of her braids. They seemed natural here, not a statement of any sort. I gave her my name and surname, my passport, my home address, Rose’s phone number.
“Mr. Moses,” she said to a bellboy chatting with the doorman.
“Mr. Moses,” she said again, raising her voice and for a moment sliding out of her hospitality training.
“Christina, why are you shouting my name?”
“Please, the guest is waiting.”
“Is that why you’re shouting? Mind yourself.” He wagged a finger at her before turning to me. “Good evening, madam.” His uniform was piped with gold braid, a general fallen on hard times.
“Everything’s sorted?” Adrian asked.
“Yes.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m teaching a class in the morning, but I’m free from noon. I’ll come to the lobby and call. What’s your room number?”
“Four hundred and seven. Where are you staying?”
“The University of Bamana guesthouse. Not as swanky as our present surroundings but the Wi-Fi is good.”
“Thank you for today.”
“Thank you for giving me a reason to be here. I’ve missed this country. Get some rest.”
I could have stayed with Adrian in the university guest house, but the online reviews had described it as clean but basic, a plain dwelling on the outskirts of town. I could afford better now. I was left alone with the bellboy.
“Follow me. Your room number?”
“Four hundred and seven.”
He led me to the golden elevators. The doors slid open and a couple stepped out. They held hands, an old white man and a young black girl with brass rings in her ears.
“After you, please,” the bellboy said.
We rode up to my fourth-floor room. The door unlocked with a plastic card. I entered first and the bellboy followed. I sat on the bed, large enough for three adults. The carpet was olive green, a color that would not show dirt.
“If you need anything, please just ask for me. I’m Mr. Moses.”