“Kofi is a difficult man to get hold of.”
“You still call Papa by his first name.”
Amir brought us flatbread and hummus. He unfolded our napkins and spread them on our laps. He wasn’t wearing cologne and he smelled of bread and sweat.
“What would you like, ladies?” he asked.
“Really, Amir, you can get one of your waiters to do this.”
“And miss the chance to serve two beautiful women? What will you have to drink?”
“Diet Pepsi,” Afua said.
“Water, please,” I said.
“And to eat?”
“A sharing selection. You decide.”
Amir left us.
“So, you grew up in England,” Afua said.
“Yes.”
“What was it like?”
“Racist.”
“Papa told us some stories but we didn’t really experience that over there. We went to boarding school and everyone knew our father was a president.”
“Lucky you.”
“No, you mustn’t think of it that way. It wasn’t always easy being Papa’s child.”
“I grew up on a council estate,” I said. I sounded bitter. Perhaps I was, knowing what my life could have been.
“All right. You suffered more. Were you loved?”
“I was. And you?” I asked.
“Sometimes. Not enough.”
The dishes arrived balanced on Amir’s hands and forearms. Hair grew from his wrists to his elbows. He fanned the food around us—small platters of meat and bread, and ceramic dipping bowls filled with sauces. We did not speak until he was gone.
“Try the meatballs. It’s their specialty,” Afua said.
“Kofi mentioned you were a judge.”
“Yes, I am. I have a first-class law degree from Oxford. A judge at thirty, a high court judge by thirty-five, and always, you wonder, is it because of Papa? Look at you. You’re not bad-looking, you have some money, a husband and daughter in London, you’ve made a life without Papa. Why are you here?”
“My husband and I are separated.”
“May I ask why?”
“Adultery,” I said.
“Is that all? He didn’t beat you?”
“Yes, that was all. It was enough.”
“I don’t know. I’m not one of those women who keeps track of a man’s penis.”
“What about your husband?”
“I’ve had two. The first was physically abusive. He liked being the president’s son-in-law more than he liked being my husband. I have what Bama men call a strong face, and I’m too tall and outspoken. Not like you. The boys would have been wild about you over here. Half-caste girls were very popular.”
“Well, I wasn’t always the rage in London. And I’m sorry to hear that—about your husband.”
“No. It was a long time ago. I told Papa. He took care of things.”
“Is he dead?”
She laughed with her mouth open, revealing falafel, ground grey. It was her first slip in decorum.
“Mensah is alive and well in Australia. Our son visits him once a year. Don’t believe all those rumors about Papa. They’re spread by his enemies. He was a tough man when Bamana needed toughness, but he has never been evil. Let’s just say Papa made divorce the easiest option for Mensah.”
She was a judge but she was also in Kofi’s debt, as was almost everyone in this country. How could you condemn your savior?
“You must have some questions for me,” she said.
“I do. When the photograph of Kofi and me went viral, you said it came at a crucial moment.”
“That was when I still thought you were his mistress. Papa is considering contesting the next election. Nothing official yet, still unannounced. But you can see how such a young mistress might make him look unserious.”
“And a daughter?”
“Oh, Bamas don’t mind illegitimate children. Precolonial Africa was a polygamous society. Maybe one or two journalists might ask about you after the announcement.”
“Announcement?”
“Well, people would want to know who this new woman always seen with the Adjei family was. I’m sure somebody recognized you when we walked in. We could even do a television interview, answer all the questions once and for all. Me, personally, I find the holiday romance between Papa and your mother charming.”
“It wasn’t a holiday,” I said.
“Of course. Anyway, it’s not as if you have to come on the campaign trail. This is not America, where sons and daughters mount the podium and make speeches before an election. I go along with Papa because I’m a public figure, but Kweku doesn’t. He can’t even stand for long periods.”