“Jorge and Carlos.” Jawoli huffed, taking leave of the Fabrica’s outbuilding. “I detest those names.”
orgeCarlosKujagou and Rafa followed him into the bright light.
“Like trying to wear another’s skin. White skin.” Kujagou looked down on his cacao arm, shaking his head.
The three men sat on the ground, backs against the warm white wall of the building.
Jawoli looked at the sky as a cloud obscured the sun. “I long for home, across the water and sea of sand.”
Kujagou smiled at his brother from their father’s first wife. “Me too. I can still hear the night hyenas laughing and see the glow of moon on our hunts for honey.”
Jawoli closed his eyes, bringing his knees up, gripping his upper arms with his hands. An ant crawled across his skin, the tickling feeling the same as in his village.
