the kayak boy

"Hi" I said.

there was no reply.

"Ete sein?. I tried in twi.

still, He was quiet. He looked frustrated with himself for not being able to reply. He gave a shy smile to show he did not intend to be rude,and lowered him large metal bowl. I smiled back and, suddenly, language did not seem important. It was as if we knew each other already.

"Avena, stop wasting time and bring her inside the shop. He is here to carry things, not to chat with you. Hey, small boy, "come". He finished off brusquely , ordering the boy inside with a curl of her fingers.

The boy hurried in carrying him oversize metal bowl before her, and placed it at Auntie Lydia's feet. As he bent down. I could see that him eye was caught by the gleaming French manicure on Auntie's long, pointy toenails. With eyes still lowered, he collected the six bulging shopping bags from the fat customer with the eight rings on him fingers and arranged them deftly inside him bowl. This was the awkward moment because he needed help but did not know how to ask for it. I rushed over and grabbed the rim of the bowl,to help lift it onto her head. we struggled a bit as it tipped precariously in my direction.

Then it was up, sitting snugly on the flattened pad on him head, faded scarf rolled into a cloth snail shell.

As we did this, a new customer entered the shop, immaculate in a white lace "Anago" which means *Smoke* wrapper and top, with a red and gold gele on her head. It was so gorgeously folded and tied that I resolved there and then to go to the shop next door and beg the Nigerian lady to teach me how to do it. Auntie was mesmerized too, so I took advantage and slipped out, following the boy with the huge bowl on him head.

I could not believe how straight and fast he walked with that weight on him head. I imagined that if had put it on my head instead, my whole neck would have been pushed down into my chest and my knees would have collapsed into my feet. We walked in single file, Auntie's customer who had now become the girl's, leading the way towards her car, the boy following and me unseen , bringing up the rear. I did not really know why I was following. I didn't about that till later; a few hours later and then, many years later.

A few hours later, I thought I had probably done it because I was getting bored spending all day every day at Auntie's shop.. Mummy had travelled to London to have a baby and Daddy was busy with work and Auntie Lydia had offered to have me for the long vacation. I liked Auntie Lydia but I was a bit scared of her and it would have been rude to say no. But also, I was looking forward to spending time at her shop in Makola Market. Mummy hardly ever went to the market. She said it exhausted her so the sent our house-help every week instead. I had only been to Makola the few times she wanted to visit Auntie Lydia there.

I found it fascinating, all the hustle and bustle, the smells and the colours. One minute you would be admiring sequinned lace fabric and the next, you would almost stumble over a tray of coiling, writhing black snails. You would see groundnut paste in huge bowl, enough to dive into; and substances you never knew existed - rolled into balls, cut into blocks, twisted into shapes - that you wondered what on earth you were meant to do with. Eat them? Take a bath with them? Build a house with them?

Auntie Lydia's shop was one of fanciest in Makola Market, with air-conditioning and brocade curtains. Oh yes, she was a proper market queen, my auntie. But the one thing that disappointed me about her shop was that she did not have a cash till. I had always longed to press the buttons on those machines likes the uniformed shop assistant sitting in rows in the supermarkets, tapping there fingers so fast and so expertly over the keys. No Auntie just collected all the money - rather untidily, I thought - in the lower drawer of her desk. But it was still exciting to see all the pretty things in the shop and to be given the responsibility for serving customers, it made me feel quite grown up.

Although I noticed the boy with th large metal bowls on their heads walking around in the fish few days, I did not really pay them to much attention until one came into our shop. That was when a customer made a large purchase.

"Abena", go outside and call us the kayak boy. Auntie said.

" A kaya- what?" I asked.

Auntie Lydia smiled. " hmm, your parents are making a broni out of you at that your American school, she said, glancing with a mixture of pride and embarrassment at her customer. Go and call me one of those boys carrying big bowls on their hears, she said, switching to Twi in that deliberate manner she used whenever she was on a mission to rescue the Ghanaian in me.

I stepped outside, blinking in the blazing sunshine and screwed up my eyes, trying to spot one.it did not take long, because he signalled pertly when she saw me scanning the stalls and alleys. I nodded and she marched briskly to the shop. I noticed them more after that I saw them