“Why don’t you like me?” I asked Nafisa sadly, moving closer instead.
Her eyes widened, and she asked in surprise. “Is that what you think? That I don’t like you?”
Her response confused me. She had been avoiding me since I arrived. Each time I entered a room, she left. I had overheard her arguing with Mr Addison about me. Occasionally, I would see her watching me from a distance with a weird look on her face. “Don’t you hate me?” I asked doubtfully.
She looked disturbed by my accusation. She opened her mouth to speak but didn’t say anything, sighing heavily instead. “I don’t hate you, Nhyira. I just think you shouldn’t be here. You should be at home with your parents and siblings.”
I frowned, unsure of why she felt that way if she didn’t hate me. “My parents know that I’m here. They married me to Mr Addison,” I explained, surprised that she didn’t know this.
She said something pithy under her breath that I didn’t catch and shook her head. “I avoid you because it’s better for both of us. I get upset—not at you, but at the whole situation. I’m upset that my hands are tied.”
I was still confused. What was upsetting her? “I am happy here,” I told her.
She looked at me with a deep stare that I was beginning to understand was characteristic of her. “Are you?”
There was something about her that drew me, and I wanted to sit close to her and talk to her, even if the conversation was confusing. “Can I sit by you? Please?”
She hesitated but waved at the empty spot on the bench. “If you’re staying, you might as well sit.”
I smiled, happy she was finally allowing me to be in her presence. “I am happier because you are letting me sit by you.”
She snorted, turning to face me fully. “What makes you happy about being here?”
I thought about it. “Many reasons.”
“Give me the first two.”
“I am married, and my family can have a better life now because I was chosen,” I answered.
She didn’t speak for a while; she just kept staring at me with that look that reminded me of my brother Kojo.
“How old are you, Nhyira?” she asked.
“I’m eleven,” I told her proudly, even though I was almost twelve now. It was two months to my birthday.
“Eleven,” she repeated softly. “Eleven years old.”
“I’ll be twelve in June!” I blurted out, sensing that she didn’t like something about my age.
“Eleven. You should be in school, not married off to a man more than three times your age,” she finally said.
I frowned. “I’m a girl. Marriage is more important than school, and I managed to be married so early! It’s something to be proud of. No other girl in my village got picked so early!”
She went quiet again and looked away from me for a moment. “They messed with you badly, didn’t they?” she said softly when she returned her gaze to me.
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
She shook her head. “Never mind, you won’t get it. Not now, anyway.”
Rama came into the garden a few seconds later, shocked when she saw me sitting on the bench with Nafisa.
“What is going on?”
“We were just talking,” Nafisa said, looking at Rama.
A look passed between the two women that I didn’t understand.
“I brought you your food, Nafisa,” Rama said, giving the tray she had brought with her to the second wife. It was then that I realised that Nafisa had never eaten with the rest of us. She didn’t eat the food that the househelps made. Did Rama always cook for her?
Nafisa took the tray from Rama and gave her a small smile. “Thank you, Rama.”
After she placed the tray on the table, she turned back to us and dismissed both of us. “You may leave.”
I was disappointed that our conversation had been interrupted, but Rama didn’t seem bothered with Nafisa’s sudden dismissal.
“I’ll see you back at the house later. Don’t stay out too long,” she told Nafisa affectionately before leaving the garden with me in tow.
In the month that followed, now that Nafisa was no longer avoiding me, I noticed a particular dynamic in the household. Almost everyone was afraid of Nafisa, even Mr Addison to an extent when he returned. The only people who weren’t afraid of her were Rama and her children. Rama was much more approachable and the one who managed the household. However, she conferred with Nafisa often and took her word as gospel. Rama never argued with anything Nafisa said, and neither did I. There was something about the way she spoke that made you just believe or accept anything she said.
I was intrigued by her, but I didn’t understand why everyone was afraid. She was a small woman, only a few sizes bigger than me, and for a long time, I assumed she was only a few years older. I later found out that she was thirty-three years old at the time, only two years younger than Rama.
Rama was kind to me, even though she did not like me associating with her children too much. She would spend time with me to teach me new skills like sewing and embroidery. She also taught me how to cook meals from the Northern part of Ghana. She taught me how to manage a few things around the house too, and she gave me some responsibility when I asked. But she didn’t let me speak to her children beyond hello and bye. I thought it was unintentional at first, but then I noticed a pattern that she always took them away when I came near or asked them to leave, even when they complained. I wanted to run around the house like I saw the children do or play the silly games they played. But I was a wife, and wives didn’t behave childishly. The person whose activities I had to emulate was Rama. But I craved the company of people like me, too. I wanted to talk to them and befriend them. I wanted to hear about their experiences when they left the house. I would watch them leave in their brown and cream uniforms each morning from the balcony and wonder what they did in school all day. My brother Kojo went to school, but I had never been interested in what happened there because my mother had told me it wasn’t relevant for me.
But now, especially after seeing Sophie, a girl, go to school, I was curious. I noticed that Sophie was being raised differently than I was. At her age, I was learning how to be a wife, but Sophie was playing around and going to school with her brother. Did Rama not want her to be chosen early? I tried to ask Rama questions about Sophie, but she always changed the subject. Why did Rama not want me to be around her children? Did she dislike me after all?
“She just feels terrible,” Nafisa finally answered when I kept badgering her about it. She had been nicer to me over the past month and allowed me to sit with her in her little garden from time to time. She always dismissed me before I was ready to go, but I didn’t take it personally because she had a habit of dismissing everyone if they were in her presence for too long, even Mr Addison. She either got up and left or excused you. And nobody argued.
“Why does she feel terrible?” I asked, perplexed. “You are two years older than her daughter and a year younger than her son. Her children are enjoying their childhood while you spend it as a married woman. She feels especially awful because she gave her blessings without asking of your age, so now she feels partly responsible.”
I was coming to understand that both Rama and Nafisa thought that me being chosen early was a bad thing. Did they not understand that it showed how beautiful and lucky I was?
The next time I spoke to my mother and aunt on the phone, I asked them about it. Perhaps things were different where I came from. “Don’t mind the old hags; they’re just jealous that you’ve become the new favourite,” my aunt accused hotly. “They’re jealous you managed to do what they couldn’t,” my mother added.
I didn’t think that was the case, and I didn’t like them calling Rama and Nafisa bad names, so I dropped the subject. Maybe when they finally visited and met the other wives, they would understand that they were not mean people. I also didn’t want to admit that I disliked Mr Anderson and had no wish to become his favourite wife. He was out on business often, and when he was home, we didn’t interact much, and for that, I was grateful. I preferred to spend time with Rama and Nafisa. I just wished that I could spend time with Rama’s kids too. I wondered what it would be like to be as playful as Sophie.
