A raucous knock shook the wooden door. Bagamba bolted upright. Saucer-eyed, Rafa pointed to their sleeping room. He mouthed to Bagamba: “The window. Stay by the window. Ready.”
Bagamba worked his way up from the mat and crept into the dark of the bedroom.
Josepha smoothed down her short-cropped hair, then folded her arms across her chest. She leaned against the earthen wall. Grandmother Gogo sat on a cushion beside her, opalescent eyes defiant. The four boys cross-legged encircled the glowing coals of the cook fire.
Another urgent knock.
Rafa headed to the door. “Coming.” He held his breath then asked, “Who’s there?”
“We’ve come to look in on things.”
“Yes, and for what?”
“It’s urgent. Please let me in.” Rafa furrowed his brow, the voice somehow familiar.
Slowly, he cracked open th
