CHAPTER 11
Osman
I was at my desk, studying geometry, when Mama called.
She had taken two Gye Nyame plastic chairs out onto the sidewalk, in front of the shop. By her side sat a police officer, a large woman, in uniform.
“Hallo Osman,” she said, “do you remember me?” and then she greeted me again, this time in Hausa.
Her presence disturbed me. I hadn’t seen her since she had taken Afia away.
Mama said, “Osman, bring another chair.”
“Sit,” she said.
She had a serious expression on her face.
“Osman, I’m sure you will remember that, after your mother died, it was Sergeant Fianko who took your sister to your uncle in the North. Now your uncle has sent her a letter. I think you should read it, but be prepared for a shock.”
She handed me the letter. It had a printed heading, “Abdul Alh
