30
My heart beats fast as one of the caravan’s camels kneels to accept me. The entire family gathers to see me on the way. From the saddle high above, they look far away like I am already disappearing into the desert. Auntie’s eyes are red, and my uncle and father look uncertain, their faces tense. My cousins gawk at the procession and one teases me.
“Salif, don’t fall or your head will c***k, and goo will fall out.”
“Not as much goo as you,” I answer back.
My half-brother, little Alou, tries to touch the camel’s leg but my father’s wife pulls him back.
It is not until we ride past the edge of the village and I look back one last time, do I feel doubt. Is the abandoned baby really my twin? Who will teach little Alou how to play Mancala, the game with a board and pebbles? I know every
