[0:17]The Kaya Girl. Chapter 1. Hi, I said. There was no reply. It is saying, I tried in tree. Still, she was quiet. She looked frustrated with herself, for not being able to reply. She gave a shy smile to show she did not intend to be rude. and lowered her large metal bow. I smiled back and suddenly, language did not seem important. It was as if we knew each other already. Abna, stop wasting time and bring her inside. My aunt called from inside the shop. She's here to carry tins, not to chat with you. Hey, small girl. She finished off brusquely, ordering the girl inside with a kill of her fingers. The girl hurried in carrying her oversized metal bowl before her and placed it at Aunt Lydia's feet. As she bent down, I could see that her eyes were caught by the gleaming French manicure on Auntie's long pointed toenails. With eyes still lowered, she collected the six bubbling shopping bags from the fat customer with eight rings on her fingers and arranged them deftly inside her bowl. This was the awkward moment because she 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 slipped precariously in my direction. Then, it was up. sitting snugly on the flattened pan on her head, a faded scarf rolled into a cloth snail shell. As we did this, a new customer entered the shop, immaculate with a white lace and a goo wrapper and top with a red and gold gilly 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 girl with the huge bull on her head. I could not believe how straight and fast she walked with that weight on her head. I imagined that if we had put that on my head instead, my whole neck would have been pushed down into my chest and my knees will have collapsed into my feet. We worked in a single file. Auntie's customer, who had now become the girl's, leading the way towards her car. The girl following and me unseen, bringing up the rare. I did not really know why I was following. I didn't think about that later, a few hours later and then, many years later. After 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. Mommy had traveled to London to have a baby and Daddy was busy with work. And Aunt Lydia had offered to have me for the long vacation. I liked Aunt 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 spend time at her shop in Makola markets. Mommy hardly went to the market. She said it exhausted her, so she sent her house help every week instead. I had only been to Macola a few times she wanted to visit Aunt Lydia there. I found it fascinating. All the hustle and bustle, the smells and the colors. One minute, you'll be admiring the sequence. Lace fabric and the next, you will almost tumble over a tree of boiling, rich and black snails. You will see groundnut paste in huge bowls 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 for them? Build a house with them? Auntie Lydia's shop was one of the finest in Makola markets 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 button on those machines, like the uniform shop assistant sitting in rows in the supermarket, tapping their fingers so fast, so especially 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 opportunity for seven customers. It made me feel quite grown up. Although I noticed the girls with the large metal balls on their heads walking around in my first few days, I did not really pay them much attention until one came into our shop. That was when a customer made a large purchase. Abna, go outside and call as the Kaya you. Auntie said. A Kaya what? I asked. Auntie leader smiled. Hmm. Your parents are making a brownie out of you at that your American school.
[7:13]She said, glancing with a mixture of fright and embarrassment at her customer, go and call me one of those girls carrying big bulls on their heads. She said, switching to G in a 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. I did not take long because she signaled patiently when she saw me scanning the stalls and alleys. I noted and she matched briskly into the shop. I noticed them more after, but I had never had the edge to talk to them until today. This one was different. She looked no older than me. And it was the shy, slightly scared look in her eyes. That made me notice her. And when I realized she didn't speak any language, I knew I was amazed and intrigued. How could she be working in Makola market when she did not speak Twi or Ga or English? What did she speak? I wondered, as I trill her and a customer. Perhaps, I'll find out when we reach the carpark. But I did not. She just lowered her bowl and parked the goods into the Madame's car boots for her. Then, she accepted the coins with a tiny note and put the empty bowl back on her head. The car sparked with a rich pair, as she turned around. She saw me immediately, and I knew she was not surprised.
[9:16]Although she had no idea I was following her. She smiled the same smile. It was the second time,
[9:28]and I noticed the same thing. That, when she smiled at me, the lost look in her eyes disappeared. Perhaps, that was what made me follow her. I knew that Auntie would be wondering where I was, and judging from the girl's grip of her bowl,
[9:49]she knew she should be looking for her next customer. But she just walked over to me, as we had an appointment. We looked at each other, and I noticed she had a fine line aged vertically in the middle of each cheek. I'm Abna. I said in Twi. I'm Fiza. She said in a language I'll soon find out was called Ga. We did not speak each other's language, but I heard her name, and she had mine. And I find out other things about her too that day. Don't ask me how, but somehow, she was just so easy to talk to. I guess we must have used some sign language and a few universal words that even she could understand. I don't know how to explain it, but I found her easier to talk to than people with whom I could converse in two or three languages. She came from a place called Tolong in the northern region, and she just arrived in Accra the day before, and she was 14 years old like me.
