A slap awakened the neighborhood.
Then mama poked her head through the door and apologized to the onlooking neighbors. "It's all fixed now," she declared.
The broken fridge was indeed fixed. Mama fixed things with her hands. She had to.
"See you later, mama." I descended the hill and went to work.
Come, work with me. I'm 7 and I'm a roadside seller.
I promise it's not that bad. All you must do is carry your merchandise, run next to the moving car, and sell to the woman sitting shotgun.
Try to keep up, and by the time you're 13, your legs will be very tired. Or maybe not. After all, you're only reading a book.
But what about my legs? And what about mama's hands? Will they get tired?
I want to take you on a journey that begins on a hill in Ghana. Relax, and endure.
