WHOSRIGHT?

CHAPTER 1

Although it was her favourite kind of morning, Mafanta took no notice. She was hot and flustered because she was late for Miss Ivys class. The morning was cool, the sky overcast as though burdened with rain. Tree branches waved about happily with wind and, on the unpaved side street leading from Mafantas compound to Kairaba Avenue, dust rose in puffs and whirlwind. If Mafanta wasnt late for Miss Ivys class, she would have been feeling totally at peace, in love with the whole world. For Fanta, as she commonly went by, did not like too much sun. An overcast day was a perfect day for her. But she had to hurry and pray that a Bakau bound bus would come along immediately and not be too full to take her. In her lost, harried reverie, a bus suddenly came in her line of vision. She sprinted the short distance of the unpaved road to Kairaba Avenue yelling Bakau.! Bakau! The bus slowed to a stop. The conductor, a hopeful Rasta [the hair being too short to qualify him] with a terrible, terrible body odour, got down and offered her the only seat available which was right beside the Rastas perch. It was all she could do not to cry. She had taken such pains with her appearance for she had Miss Ivy first three periods of the day and she had something to share with the class which she knew Miss Ivy would find interesting. Now, she would walk in late and smelly. Shed promised herself four months ago when she turned thirteen that she would not cry stupidly any more. Baby, you alright? the Rasta asked in a funny affected accent. Fanta started and instinctively held her nostrils shut. Oh, the foul smell! She kept her face straight and said nothing. Rastaman glanced at her, a sneer appearing to expose rotting teeth, to make another comment, but, for some reason, he chose silence and turned to look out the window. Fanta got to her stop in relative peace and made a dash for her classroom. God, please, let her be late today, she prayed. She took s sniff at her arm, then at her shirt and was convinced that she could smell the bus conductor on her. And, she wouldnt even have the chance to borrow body spray from one of those who could afford it. She felt very sorry for herself. Now that she was at her classroom block, she slowed her steps, went up the stairs slowly and stopped just before class 9C to look at her shoes. She did not have toilet paper in her bag (that was seriously rationed in her home). So she tore a page out of
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an exercise book and wiped her very dusty shoes. She did not know it, but she was looking very nice. A little over five feet, slim with an oval face, her skin glowed with the beauty of youth. People said if she were a boy, she would have been a carbon copy of her dad. Mafanta straightened the shirt inside her pinafore, wiped her face with her hands and walked in to 9C. Good morning, Miss Ivy. Im sorry Im late. Fanta. It was clear that Miss Ivy wanted to ask her why she was late but maybe the look in Fantas eyes told of the frustrations of the morning. Miss Ivy only said, its okay. Sit down. Miss Ivy turn back to the chalkboard to continue the lesson on preposition phrases and the class settled down to serious work for the next hour. Miss Ivys English class with 9C on Mondays was for three periods, each period lasting forty- five minutes. Miss Ivy said it was unhealthy. So, they worked seriously on English for the first two periods and talked during the third period. The talks were most interesting because they were about things that everyone in the classroom could identify with: boy- girl relationship, mothers, fathers, teachers, comportment,No one wanted to miss Miss Ivys class. Not only were the classes interesting, Miss Ivy was. She was a foreign teacher. That means she was not from The Gambia. Miss Ivy was from Nigeria, but, she was not like other Nigerians teachers, she was not like any body. She was beautiful, dressed beautifully, walked like a princess and spoke very nice English. Above all, she was fun and caring. She joked a lot with the students and, when she asked how you were, she truly wanted to know how you were. But there were some things she couldnt take, like disrespect to elders and foul language. Most of the students, boys and girls alike, really wanted to be liked by Miss Ivy. So, just by being Miss Ivy, she got most of the students to

CHAPTER 2

The class was quiet, the students expectant as the last person submitted his work. Okay. Today Id like us to talk about the bleaching of the human skin. A low buzzing of voices emanated. Then, a boy said Miss, only girls bleach. The girls protested hotly. Miss Ivy raised her voice slightly. I assure you boys, men and boys also bleach and I know some who have done it. But, lets do this sensibly. She walked to the chalkboard, wiped a portion of it and wrote. When she finished, she stood back and read what shed written. What is bleaching? Why do people bleach their skin? Miss Ivy turned back to the class. Now, lets take it from the first question. What do you understand by bleaching? A few hands went up. Yes, Pa Modou. Pa Modou stood up. Bleaching is the act of making something white. The maid he stopped as voices were rising and sheepishly said, sorry, the helper in my house uses bleach to make our white clothes whiter. Thank you, Pa Modou. Thats a very good definition of bleaching. A special chemical is used to make white whiter and change other colours into white. A chemical. In the case of skin bleaching, a chemical is also used A chorus of responses ranging from No! to Really? to oh, my God! came from the girls. The boys mainly looked smug. Mariama, who was currently at the in between phase of bleaching, raised her hand. Miss, its a cream, not a chemical. Miss Ivy smiled. Shed noticed for some time that Mariamas face was changing. From having black, smooth skin, Mariamas face was a sickly light brown with darker shades of brown at the temples. Her arms and legs were a washed out shade of black. Mariama, Miss Ivy said the chemical is worked in to a cream to make it easier for the manufacturers to sell it. Miss Ivy continued. The commonest bleaching agent for the skin is called hydroquinone. What it does is that it washes away melanin from the top layer of skin.

Melanin is the substance built into our skin by God to give us our colour and protect the body from the harmful rays of the sun. So, what do you think happens when this melanin is taken out of the skin? The class was quiet. You could hear the drop of the proverbial needle. Come on. Think. What can happen to the body when melanin which is there for your colour and protection from the sun is removed? A boy answered. You will look white and the sun can make you ill. Thank you, Sidi. Thats it. Bleaching takes away your natural colour. It also takes away your protection from the sun and, for us Africans that is very bad news. Why? A chorus of answers. Stop! You know the rules. If you have something to say, raise your hand and wait until you are called. Yes, Binta. Because theres a lot of sun in Africa. Right. Prolonged use of bleaching cream damages the top layer of skin leaving the body exposed to the germs in the air. And, the chemical, hydroquinone, gets access into the body. If it gets into your blood stream, what do you think can happen? Miss Ivy looked somberly at the students. She was praying fervently that she was getting through to them. For, aside from Mariama, there was Fatima too with the telltale signs of bleaching. Angela. I guess you could die. Angela answered. She wasnt too sure but it did seem a possibility. Thats right. You could die. But Miss, Mariama said, people have been using this cream for a long time without dying. Like who, Mariama? Well, I cant say their names, but, they are big people like even a doctor. I dont doubt that you are telling the truth. Heres another truth: those people, including the doctor, dont know the facts about bleaching. When you go home, you can start educating them (and yourself, she added silently). Miss Ivy hoped earnestly
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that Mariama would pass the message on to her mother, a medical doctor, whod bleached to the colour of the half caste. She was also looking for some response from Fatima. Any questions? Fatima, is there a question youd like to ask? Yes. Sometimes, when you have pimples, people say you should use bleaching cream, that it clears the pimples. Miss Ivy looked at Fatima with a lot of understanding. Fatima had adolescent pimples, and, with the bleaching, the pimples were there for all to see. Do you think thats true, Fatima? Miss Ivy asked gently. Fatimas head shook No. Then, she lowered her eyes to her desk. At that moment, the bell went signifying the end of the third period. English class was over for 9C. Our time is up. Think about what weve talked about. Go to the library. Use the internet and find out all you can about bleaching. Youve been told different things about it. Find out whos right and do the right thing. Well continue this discussion on Thursday. Good Morning. Good morning, Miss Ivy, the class responded. As Miss Ivy gathered her books and the papers to be graded, Fanta spoke up. Miss, I had something important to ask you. Quickly, then, Fanta. Weve run out of time. Is female circumcision right? Miss Ivy stood stock still for moment. She was clearly taken unawares. Then she recollected herself. Thats a very important question, Fanta. Well answer it on Thursday. Okay? Okay, Miss. Miss Ivy smiled at her and she smiled back. Then. Miss Ivy had to make a quick exit for Mr. Conteh, the mathematics teacher, was at the door.

CHAPTER 3

Mafanta was grateful. Shed reached her home and was out of the suns merciless glare. It was such a hot day! And, she had to walk all the way home. Well, it wasnt that far especially in the company of friends. All the same, she was glad to be home. Home was at its best at the moment with her big sister Fatou not yet returned, her mother at her little food stall which served food and drinks at Latrikunda, her father at the coca- cola bottling plant and the baby of the family, two year old Mohammed at day care. She had the house to herself and could take a twenty minutes rest before going to the Serrekunda market. It was her week to cook for the family and Fatous to pick up Mohammed from the day care. Fanta loved her time in the kitchen for she would be given money each morning by her mother to be kept in a safe place in the house for the familys evening meal. It was up to her to decide what to cook, buy the ingredients, cook and dish to each family member. Fanta loved going to the big market at Serrekunda where you could buy anything you wanted. She was very thrifty in the business of shopping. Almost always she had something left over to buy a pair of plastic dangling earrings, or a small bottle of lip gloss, and sometimes, an item of clothing like a halter neck top from the second hand stalls. As she took her little rest she planned her market trip. Shed have to take the bus. Although her home, one of the cheap neighbourhoods behind the expensive Pipeline, was not too far from Serredunda market, the day was hot and Mafanta was not too fond of the sun. Mafanta lived in a compound which had two long buildings facing each other. Each building was divided into two apartments. Each apartment had two small bedrooms, a small living room and a very small toilet. There was no bath tub nor shower. You placed a bucket of water on the floor beside the toilet and bathed by pouring water onto your body with a dipper. A little hole at the bottom of the back wall led water out to the back of the house where it ran as it pleased as there were no gutters. The family cooked their meals on the veranda in front and ate on the veranda or in the living room. The two buildings were painted a dark oily green on the outside, and, a dark oily blue on the inside. The colour scheme made for easy maintenance since the colours did not rattle on dirt. The rectangle between the two buildings had wash lines over it. It was there that the women of the households did their washing. It was there that the children played with one another and with cats, dogs, goats, and, it was there that the parties (naming ceremonies, weddings, funerals) were held. A car or two could be parked there at night. Fanta would love to live in a better place. But, you can t have everything you wish for in this world as her mother kept telling them. At least, they were better off than some, thanks to their mother. Fantas mom had no schooling at all. So, shed vowed
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that her children would go all the way to grade twelve. Shed also vowed that hers would not be the large unwieldy family she had come from. So, she had fought literally for the family to get to where it was. After the first two children (both girls), shed gone to the family clinic run by the womens empowerment agency after attending one of their much advertised meetings. She faced her girls up bringing doing whatever she honestly could to give them an education. It was not easy. Her in laws and certain members of her own family ridiculed her efforts. Her husband who had promised her that he would never spoil their lives with polygamy started to whip her with the threat of a second wife, for, a man was nothing without a son. She ignored them all until she got enough money to start her food and drinks stall. Then, she had her third child and, God who had seen all her suffering gave her a boy. Then, she had peace. Shed not only provided a son, she was providing a lot more for the family than her husband. Mafanta did not exactly know what her father did at the bottling plant. No one did. He did not tell them. He did not spend much time with the family. The wall of reserve around him was as strong as his wiry, five- eight physique. Nonetheless, their mom was content with her family of one man, one wife, a fifteen year old daughter, a second daughter, thirteen years old and her two year old son. By Gods grace, shed get her other wish her children doing up to grade twelve and settling down to much better things than her lot.

CHAPTER 4

Everyone was in except Fatou. The family had just finished their evening meal of benachin. When they were all present, they all ate from one medium size basin and any outsider that happened to be around was welcome to the basin irrespective of his nationality or colour. But, tonight, Sol, father and head of the Ceesay home had decreed that no one benachin be left for fatou. He sat now on one of the two armchairs in the living room. The chairs had obviously seen better days but they were clean. There were four brown plastics chairs arranged in a straight line against one wall. An occasional table with its brown formica top peeled in some places occupied the centre of the small living room. Opposite the occasional table, against the one window in the room, was a table as high as the window sill, and, on this was a small television set and on the television set was a small radio. The T.V was on and Sol Ceesay, with his two year old on his laps, was watching the G.R.T.S news or pretending to. In the little bath room beside the living room, Agi, wife and mother of the home was washing the toils of the day in readiness for bed. Hers was a very full life. Up before everyone else at 4:00 a.m. to prepare the meals for her food stall, she did not stop working until she got home at 7:00 p.m. but it was worth it for the children were at good schools. She was allowed by her childrens schools to pay each terms fees twice but it was still a struggle. She used to be a tall, impressively proportioned beauty. But years of struggling had left her looking gaunt. Only the hips remained of what she used to look like. Manfanta would have loved to watch T. V, but her father was boiling. He was so angry that the air in the living room seemed pregnant with pepper. No, shed stay in the childrens room and mind her business. Fatou was in big trouble. Shed brought Mohammed home from the day care to Fanta and gone out immediately without a word to anyone of her whereabouts. At a few minutes to 10:00 p.m. Fatou strolled in. She greeted her father and made for her room, but her fathers command arrested that move. Stop there! Where are you coming from? I was with my friend, Margaret. We were studying together. So swiftly that it was hard to see it coming, Sol Ceesay put down his young son and in the same movement, went across the room and slapped his daughter very hard on both sides of the face. You silly girl! What do you take me for? A fool? You were studying! You were studying dressed like that? And, where are the books? Fatou started crying and cowered against the wall with arms raised as though to ward off blows. Agi! Agi! Come out here!
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Agi came sleepily out of the room she shared with husband. You see, pointing at Fatou. You see your daughter. The young slut! Coming to lie like that to me. She was studying dressed like that and has no books to show her studies. Just look at her. Like a Sene Gambia girl and you say she should not be circumcised. I say thats the end of your rubbish talk. This girl shall be circumcised before she brings a fatherless baby into this house. Maybe thats what you want? Agi looked at her fifteen-year-old daughter. She had on an Afro wig, only God knew where she got it from. Large orange plastic hoops were fastened at her ears. Her lips dripped with shiny lip gloss. Although Fatou was tall and slim, her breasts were quite prominent, and, she was wearing a halter-top without brassiere. The halter top stopped at the mid riff leaving bare her lower stomach right down to her generous hips where the low waist skin-tight jeans began. Agi was disturbed by the sexuality that exuded form her daughter. Perhaps her father was right. She must not be allowed to start sleeping around. That would be disaster. Maybe circumcision was the answer. She was in grade ten now and would turn sixteen in seven months. She herself had married at that age. If only she would finish grade twelve! Perhaps circumcision can help her attain that. Oh, she was that tired! You are her father. Do what you think best. Now, it is late. Please, let us not turn ourselves into the evening entertainment for the neighbours? She turned to Fatou. You, youd better go to bed now. Fatou fled to her room, and Agi went back to hers with little Mohammed trailing her. Sol sat back in his armchair to contemplate this latest challenge to his existence as father.

CHAPTER 5

It was Thursday morning and 9C was hard at work. It was English class with Miss Ivy. The second period was drawing to its end and Mafanta wondered if Miss Ivy had thought about her question on female circumcision. Would she have to remind her? She would wait and see. But she really must have an answer especially now that father had made up his mind about Fatous circumcision. Who is right? What is the right thing to do? The bell broke in to her thoughts. She realized that the second period had ended and rushed to finish her work. Around her, some of her classmates did the same. The rest had finished. Miss Ivy cleared her throat. Hurry. We have a lot to talk about. In about five minutes, all had finished and thirty eight expectant faces faced Miss Ivy. Last Monday, we answered the first question about bleaching which was? The class answered, what is bleaching? Right. Today we answer the second question. Why do people bleach? The class was silent. You know what bleaching is. Why do people bleach? A boy, David, answered The girls do it to fool boys in thinking that they are beautiful? Laughter erupted. Even Miss Ivy was not immuned. Raising her voice, Okay guys. OkayThat may be a reason, but, David, your answer implies that light skin is more beautiful than dark. Is that it? How many feel that light skin is prettier? Almost all hands went up. Miss Ivy looked at them and really she was not shocked. Shed known bleaching was a real problem, but all the same, it was not a pleasant feeling to be proven correct. Put down your hands. Mariama, why do you think light skin is prettier than dark skin? Well, Miss, when your skin is light, people quickly see you and you can wear any colour and look nice in it. Okay. Any other answers? Why do you think that light skin is prettier than dark? Yes, Kebba? Miss, the girls want to look like the white girls they see in movies. You can see that even in their dressing they do the same thing.
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Girls, would you agree with Kebba that you try to look like white girls? But, we dont all bleach, Miss Thats true, Fanta. We need to bear that in mind. Some Africans are naturally light skinned. Like you, Miss. Yes, like me. And there are those that are even lighter naturally. Then, she giggled. I think God loves colours. Now, let me ask a question of you all. You all are Africans. How many would have preferred to be white? All hands went up. Why? Because their lives are better. Theres too much suffering for Africans. White people are given more respect. Miss Ivy raised her hand for silent. I understand. Truly I do. I used to feel like you all are feeling until I realized that there was not much truth in all those answers. To start with, White people also suffer. The same things that would cause a Gambian to suffer would also cause a white Brit to suffer. If a white is lazy, hell suffer lack just the same as a Gambian. If a white American takes drugs, he destroys himself the same way a Gambian does if he takes drugs. You know. Ive always told you that respect is earned. Be the best in human behaviour and in whatever profession you choose, and, people will respect you even when they do not like you nor your colour. Women who bleach lose so much. They lose their beauty because contrary to the belief that bleaching makes you more beautiful; it actually strips you of your beauty. Have you not noticed that people who bleach have hideous mark on their hands and feet? There was a murmur from the class as though theyd just found the missing piece of a puzzle. Miss Ivy continued, Also, the bleaching cream seems unable to bleach the knuckles.
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More excited exclamations. Apparently everyone in the class knew of at least one person with these tell- tale signs. They would never be fooled again! And, after a while, the skin looks cooked with dark patches here and there and, the person begins to look bad. Doctors say bleached skins do not heal properly. Unbleached skin, on the other hand, stays beautiful all through life. It holds the effects of aging gracefully without the help of fancy creams and cosmetic surgery. I told you to find out things about bleaching. Who has anything to contribute? A girl said, I only found out that it is done mainly by women. Right. Thats enough to make you want to put a stop to it, isnt it? Yes Yes. They all agreed. Remember, you are agents of change. Go out there and educate others? You must appreciate who you are and try not to be some one else. Everyone has something to offer the world. Just be true to yourself. Just when Fanta when getting ready to raise her hand; Miss Ivy spoke about her matter. I have a very serious question for you, class. This class is almost over. So, Im going to introduce the question and you will go home and talk with your parents and come back with your opinions. Are you ready? Okay. What is female circumcision, and, is it necessary? Remember, whatever you are told, think carefully about the good side, the bad side, and if the good out-weighs the bad The class answered as one Do the right thing! Right. Good morning.

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CHAPTER 6

Hey. This is not like you guys. Why are you being so shy? Am I to take it that you didnt talk with your parents about it? We did So, whats the problem? No answers, just some embarrassed smiles. Okay, I ll bell the cat. Circumcision dates back to Bible times when God commanded Abraham to circumcise all the males in his house including himself as part of the special relationship that Abraham had with God. I think the Quran has that also. Right? Yes, Miss. Circumcision of the male is cutting off the foreskin of the penis. Now, apart from the religious reason, medical science has proven that circumcised males are not as prone to infection in the penis as those who are uncircumcised. That means male circumcision is desirable. Female circumcision, on the other hand, has no religious base. It is not in the Bible, and Muslims tell me that it is not in the Quran either. So, how did it come into being? Two hands, both of them boys, went up. Miss Ivy raised her hand up forestalling them. Before you answer, lets talk about what female circumcision is? Since you are not willing to talk, Ill do it. Female circumcision is the cutting off of all or part of the clitoris in the vagina. The girls looked embarrassed. There are no known benefits to the girl from this thing. Remember the benefits in the boys case? The class nodded. What is it? Kebba answered, It reduces the chances of infection.

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Very good. In the case of the girls, instead of doing them good, it actually does them harm No, Miss. It does them good. My father told me that it stops them from becoming useless. This contribution was made by one of the boys, Trawally. What do you mean by useless, Trawally? Well, if a girl is not circumcised, she goes around messing herself up and no man will want to marry such a girl. Oh, you mean a girl is promiscuous if she is not circumcised. I was going to tell you what female circumcision does to a girl. Medical science has proven that when the clitoris is taken out, about eight thousand nerve endings are destroyed. In your science class, youve been taught what happens when nerves are destroyed. Can someone tell us what happens when a nerve, any nerve is destroyed? Angela answered, If a nerve is destroyed, the nerve cannot carry messages to the brain and then, the brain wont be able to tell the body anything. And, continued Miss Ivy If the brain cannot communicate with a particular part of the body, it means that part of the body is dead, not so? The student agreed that it was so. That is what happens to a girl when she is circumcised. She becomes dead sexually. Then they will not mess themselves up, Trawally interjected. It may appear so, especially to a boy. But, you are going to grow up and marry. Would you like to have a wife that only suffers your sexual attentions? A wife that would never enjoy being intimate with you? The class was quiet. Trawally was quiet but Miss Ivy knew it would take more than a class discussion to get Trawally and such as he to view this objectively. As she packed her things to vacate the class, she prayed silently for God s help. Shed known many adult lives that were in tatters battling adult issues, the insidious culprit being female circumcision or mutilation as most women claim that not only are their bodies mutilated for no apparent good, but, their self esteem, indeed their whole psyche is mutilated. For, the same men who want to marry good, circumcised girls are the ones who abandon them in the house, treating them merely as fittings in the house. The better part of their energy (and also, their money) is devoted to uncircumcised women outside.
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What a paradox! Mafanta, can you see me during break time? Yes, Miss. And with that Miss Ivy left for the staff room. It was Mafanta that brought the controversial topic. She needed to talk with her, find out why the topic had become an issue in her life. Who knows, maybe shed do more good helping just one than the uphill task of taking on everyone at the same time .

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CHAPTER 7

Yes, Fanta. I need to know. What brought on this interest in female circumcision? Its my sister, Fatou. My father says she must be circumcised so she doesnt bring disgrace to the house of Ceesay. Shed been going out a lot lately and keeps getting into trouble with our father. But, is circumcision the only way to discipline her? Arent there other ways for your father to exert his control? Well, hes beaten her and she didnt stop. How about grounding her, you know, telling her she cannot go out for, say, two weeks thats apart from school? Mafanta smiled. Wholl see to it that she doesnt go out after school? My mom and father come back late. Its normally, just me and my little brother. Hmmmmm. So your father wants her circumcised. What does your mom say? At first, she fought it because the women at womens empowerment agency had told her that it is not a good thing. But, after Fatou started going out, she agreed. She says we must all finish grade 12 and that circumcision will help Fatou to concentrate on her studies, and not on boys: How old is Fatou? Fifteen What grade is she doing? Grade 10 How is all this effecting you? I mean why did you tell me? Because if they do for Fatou, they will do for me. Oh! Somehow, Miss Ivy had not thought about that. Suddenly, she was sorry for the girl, sorry and a little afraid. May be because she could sense the girls fear. But, she must reassure her, no mater her own feelings. So, she made her voice light and smiled. Okay, Fanta. Dont worry. Theres time enough for your parents to change their minds.
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Okay, Miss. Thank you. As Fanta turned to go, Miss Ivy stopped her to ask a last question. How does Fatou feel about all this? I dont know, Miss. Shes not been talking much to me. Miss Ivy was at a loss. She would have loved to learn more about Fatou but shed used at least ten minutes already out of the girls lunch time. Shed continue another time. Okay Fanta you can go now

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CHAPTER 8

Oh God! How hot! It was March the beginning of the long hot months in The Gambia. The last of the sun seeking tourists left for their respective homelands in March to return in droves in December. Mafanta had just crossed the ever busy Kairaba Avenue and was walking down the dusty side road that led to her compound. She was hot and tired, and cross. It was very hot and yet, dry. Although Mafanta was walking fast, she was not sweating much. Her skin felt dry, especially her lips and the area up there, inside her nostrils. Sometimes, the wind would come by burdened with heat and dust, and wrap it hot, hot, self around her in a most uncomfortable embrace! As she made her way home, she had to greet somebody every so often for she was in her neighbourhood, and, everyone knew everyone. But she wished she didnt have to greet so many. She was struggling to keep her breathing nice and easy which wasnt easy. Every lungful was filled with dryness, the heat, and the dust. Her eyes squinted against the suns glare and the stinging wind. She was in a vile mood. She tried to play a game she often played whenever she found herself in uncomfortable situations. She could call up nice pictures in her mind and try to stay focused on them, developing them into beautiful dream come true stories. It worked. It took her mind off the unpleasantness of the situation or maybe the unpleasantness out of the situation. She was trying to conjure up some hopeful picture. It wasnt easy (the sun was interfering too much). Then, she remembered that she wasnt the one in the kitchen. That meant she wont have to go out again to the market, and then, undertake the hot job of cooking. It was her turn to fetch Mohammed from the day care. All she had to do was buy a two dalasi loaf of tapalapa from the corner Fula shop, eat and drink lots of water. Then, she would carry a mat to the mango tree by their compounds gate. She knew someone would be there already. The men drinking the syrupy tea, ataya, women plating their hair, may be gossiping or simply sleeping. She would go to the mango tree, spread her mat, and sleep. She had plenty of time before 5:00 pm, Mohammeds closing time. Whatever happened, shed be sure to get there before 5:00 pm because the woman in charge of the day care was no nonsense woman. Shed warned parents to stop the practice of picking up their wards late to no avail. When one mother left her child at the day care till 7:00 pm, and claimed that it wasnt her fault (shed been busy), the woman got really angry and called her irresponsible. She told her she wasnt fit to be a mother. That was a big insult to that mother. The woman didnt stop there. She said enough was enough. If anyone came for her ward at even 5:01pm the child would not be received back into their care. Her workers were human beings like every other person. They had their children and husband to see to, too.

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Maimuna, Mafantas mothers friend thought it was a joke. The woman couldnt do it. So, she went for her child at her usual time of 6:30pm. The woman was not there, only the carer in whose care Maimunas child was. She didnt say a word, not even in response to Maimunas asallah mailaikum. The following morning when Maimuna took her child to the day care, she was denied entry. She pleaded that day and every day for a week to no avail. She lost her house keeping job for one of the toubabs at MRC. The thought of that brought a smile to Fantas face. She had never liked Maimuna who had joined others to laugh at her mothers ambition for her and her siblings. She would get to the day care on time. They gave good care at an affordable fees. Her mother did not want Mohammed to be left in any neighbours or relatives dubious care. Fanta would see to it that they didnt lose Mohammeds place at the day care. For now, the shade of the mango tree was the only thing on her mind. It was the best place to be on such a day. Already she felt better.

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CHAPTER 9

The March evening was cool. That was the thing with March, scorching hot in the day, and cool at night. Everyone in the Ceesay family was accounted for: Sol, Agi, and Mohammed in the living room watching Banjul cops, Fatou and Fanta in the childrens room reading. It was the last days of March and the second term examination was about to begin. The childrens room had one window facing the back of the building where bath water ran to. The window wasnt big and since it was the only one, the room tended to be dark and a bit airless. But, on this March evening, the deficiency was a plus. For the window admitted only enough of the coolness to make the occupants of the room snug. Fatou was still sneaking out, but shed grown quite adept at it, always getting in before their parents. Although she wasnt exactly friends with her sister, she knew Fanta would not rattle on her. Mafanta was looking forward to the holidays. Oh, not to wake so early, not to struggle with hard work at school, to visit friend after friend, to go for picnics on the beach.. Which reminded her of her Easter school trip coming up in two weeks (the day before school closed for Easter holidays). She must remember to go to her mothers shop straight from school tomorrow. Just like they knew without ever being told that their mother had more money than their dad and was more forthcoming with it, they also knew it was safer to ask at the shop. The occasion that brought this knowledge wasnt that old. Fatou had asked their mother one evening after their supper if she could stay back after school for extra lessons. Mother had answered ask your father So, Fatou has asked her father, adding that it would cost two hundred dalasis a month, and, her father had replied that her didnt have such money. Their mother who rarely quarreled, had dropped everything that evening to tell their father what she thought of him. He was no better than the bumsters who lived off their women, to which hed retorted that it was his fault for not marrying another wife and that she should not forget herself too much since any toubab woman would welcome him with open arms. At that, their mother had booed at him and urged him to go and try his luck if the fifteen year olds who saturate that market would give him room. And that had shut their father up good and proper forever. As for the sisters, they never again asked their father for money. Mafantas attention was brought back to the present by the sudden quietness in the living room. The T.V had been switched off and her parents were shuffling toward the room that adjoined theirs. It was a small apartment and she could hear them well. Her father was speaking. Njies second daughter will be in the group. I have arranged for Fatou to join them. As soon as she closes, she must go with Njies daughter. The wife will be going and she has agreed to take care of Fatou.
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Okay. Then her mother was in the childrens room to lay sleeping Mohammed in the middle of the large mattress on the floor which served as bed for all three children. She put the child down, covered him with an old wrapper and walked out of the room without a word to either girl. Mafanta waited for Fatou to speak for they both knew what their father had arranged. But, Fatou said not a word. So, Mafanta spoke. Are you not afraid? Fatou shrugged. Mafanta persisted. You really want to do this? Fatou shrugged again and got up and walked across the room and out of it to the tiny bathroom. Mafanta wondered, not for the first time, about her taciturn sister. It was difficult to tell what Fatou was thinking at any time. She knew that Fatou was like their mother, and, she loved her mother. She could not understand why she hated the same quality in her sister. Fatou didnt seem quite normal to her and sometimes she felt a bit afraid of her. Anyway, she will wait and see. Fanta got up from the mattress, yawned and stretched. Then, she bent down to replace her books in her school bag. That done she got into her side of the bed. When Fatou got back from the toilet, she would put the light off. It was her prerogative as senior sister.

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CHAPTER 10

But Miss, its our culture, and even you said our culture is not bad Another discussion period was on. It was still on female circumcision and Trawally was sticking to the militant stance hed adopted. You misquote me, Trawally. I said that culture is very important because it is a peoples way of life. But, and this is very important, not everything in culture is good. You need to sift the good from the bad. For me, it does not matter where the culture originates. If its good, I embrace it. If its bad, I shun it. Whats important is to do the right thing. Education helps you to do the right thing. Do you understand that? Yes, Miss. Now, lets go on. Culture says that if you circumcise girls, they wont be promiscuous. It that true? Its true, Miss. Because they wont even feel like doing it, Trawally answered. They may not feel like doing it, Trawally, but they do it all the same. Ive been doing a lot of reading about this since this topic came up. Do you know that six out of ten girls who sleep around and end up with teenage pregnancies are circumcised? Why do they do it? Because some boy talks them into it. Some do it because they want the experience. And, heres something very important. Some go from one boy to another seeking the ecstasy theyve heard about. And, because they are circumcised, they never experience that excitement. So they keep going from one man to another hoping that the next time would be better. All these, Trawally, are facts. Female circumcision does not prohibit sexual laxity. The class was quiet and Miss Ivy allowed the quiet to prevail for a long moment. The other negative thing about female circumcision is that it can and does kill. There were audible gasps. There were heads nodding up and down in agreement. But Miss, those that die are the ones with evil in them, Awa, a girl, said. It was Miss Ivys turn to gasp. Is that what you are told? Yes. That is simply not true! Sometimes the circumcised girls die from infections. In the not so distant past, I have heard that only one knife was used to cut girl after girl. You know from science that blood is a rich medium much can transfer disease from
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one to another easily. Today, thanks to the efforts of womens empowerment groups, mothers are insisting that one razor blade be used for only one girl. Another cause of death is bleeding. Some of those girls just bleed out their lives on the circumcision mat. The girls were horrified. Im sorry, girls, but its the truth. But Miss, you cant fight your parents. Even if you run away from home, youll come back one day. And besides, where can you run to? All good points, Baboucar. The reason for these discussions is that you can make a difference. You may not be able to do much now because you are minor. But as a parent, you can discontinue a tradition that does more ill than good. Miss, my grandmother says you can tell uncircumcised girls by the way they walk. Is it true? I dont know, Mariama. But, I do know that being uncircumcised is not a shameful thing. In fact, the uncircumcised girl is whole, shes not been damage in any way. Any more questions? Well then. Think about it and do the right thing.

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CHAPTER 11

Miss Ivy was amused. She was walking back to the staff room from the principals office. Shed been summoned there by the principal concerning reports about her discussions with 9C. Trawallys father had gone to the principal first thing that morning about the foreign teacher corrupting young minds. The social and environmental studies teacher has also mentioned that Miss Ivy was encroaching on her turf. Shed been expecting both accusations. That of her colleague, the SES teacher was nothing, for, as she truthfully told the principal, she was merely answering a question put to her by a student. The principal, a hardworking, visionary Ghanian, did not push it at all. He said openly that he appreciated both her English and mind- expanding (as he called it) classes. But Trawallys fathers was a different kettle of fish. The woman at the empowerment agency shed visited to learn more about female circumcision had told her that in their fight to enlighten women about the ills of female circumcision, their lives had been threatened by big men in society. But they were not remotely intimidated because they were all educated victims of female circumcision. Their lives had been irreparably damaged and they wanted to spare others their fate. Theyd warned her to expect opposition. And now that it was here, instead of cowering in fear, she was quietly elated. For that pompous man to come to school to report her, it showed that shed made contact with the students intellect, even Trawallys. How wonderful! That after all, was what she was trying to do! But, as the principal, an ally and head of the school had said that she should drop the topic for the moment, she would. Anyway, shed told the students all she wanted to tell them. As she walked in to the teachers room, all talk ceased. Miss Ivy smiled to herself. She knew theyd been discussing her, but that was nothing new. She could live with it. She walked to her seat, sat down at her desk, and, went on with her work.

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CHAPTER 12

It was Sunday. Mafantas compound was teeming with activity. Fatou had undergone female circumcision and had come back to the city the day before. And, today, her father was having a party in her honour. The party was a coming of age celebration. It told the world that Fatou was a respectable woman, fit for any respectable man, and, already there was a suitor though Fatou wont turn sixteen until October, four months away. The rectangular plot in between the two buildings had no washing on the lines today. All the women in the four apartments were out there to help with the cooking. People trooped in and out to congratulate the family. Some came with presents. Already the mattress on the floor of the children room was covered with presents: a tourky made with pink brocade and white lace was spread carefully on the bed. Fatou was going to change in to that later. For now, she was wearing another tourky of blue brocade. Mafanta had on the same thing but of a different style. Agi, their mom, was going to wear the same blue brocade after her exertions but hers was made into a boubou. Sol and Mohammed had on kaftans of the same fabric. They were a family. Their fathers brother, Baba Jobe, who had a shop selling building materials had sent a small transistor radio. Agis mother sent a yellow shawl. Neighbours and friends had sent sundry items. A bar of lux soap, a pair of dangly gold plated earrings, a cheap bottle of toilet water, all sorts of things. But, the present above presents was the cell phone. It was not a fancy one, but it rank higher than all the other gifts. In Fatous eyes, it was all the other gifts in one puny heap, and, the phone on its own, lordly and unbeatable. Even the SIM card was in place along with two whole hundred dalasis credit! Who would have thought it, that her dream would come to pass this day. Fatou had wanted a cell phone forever, it seemed. And now, Secka, the suitor had given it to her. She was beside herself with joy. Mafanta looked at her chattering sister as if she was a stranger. The room was filled with girls of Fatous age. They were admiring her things and advising her on which pair of the two new pairs of slippers to be worn with the pink and white tourky. Her hair had been straighten and packed in to a coiffure on top of her head the night before. Mafanta looked at the things on the bed, and she sighed with envy. Such riches! She didnt think Fatou would ever share them with her. When they were little, they had been close. The closeness disappeared when Fanta got into the more prestigious Anglican High School. Although, Fatous school (Saidy High School) was privately owned and the fees the same as that of the Anglican school, the latter was a most prestigious school. Fanta could not resist rubbing this in, and, others also didnt help matters when they asked their parents why they didnt move Fatou to the Anglican school. The novelty of being at the Anglican High School wore off and Fanta stopped the taunting, but, Fatou did not forget, not forgive. Mafanta knew she should not get to touch any of those things, and she wanted them so! Especially the cell phone. How she wanted a cell phone!
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Outside in the rectangular yard, Agi laughed a nice, rich laugh. That took Fantas attention outside. It was not often that her mother laughed like that. She walked outside to see what was happening. Maimuna had arrived with her little boy who was Mohammeds age. The two little boys had started to play together. Mohammed kept using English words while the other boy spoke only in Wollof. One of the women then called Mohammed a toubab, and, Agi laughed. Agi was happy that her little boy was already speaking some English. It was the reason why she insisted on him going to that day care. The woman in charge was a foreigner and insisted that her workers speak English. Everyone knew the importance of the English language. Without it, you could not advance. Why, even to keep house required some Engilsh! Agi was happy that her children were doing well. They were all getting an education, Fatou was as good as settled, and, she Agi was on top of Maimuna, her phony friend. Oh, may God continue to pay back all those who had laughed at her. Agis eyes came to rest on her second daughter. She walked to her, rested a hand on her shoulder and said, Dont feel bad about all these. Well do the same thing for you in three months. Your father has decided that theres no point to wait until you are fifteen.

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CHAPTER 13

The sun beat down mercilessly on Fanta, and she wondered yet again if God was angry. It was June. Any day now, the rains would come. That thought brought no relief for the rains brought heat made much worse by high humidity, it brought clothes that seemed damp even after theyd been ironed, it brought puddles and puddles of water rendering some streets unpassable, it brought dehydration, it brought diseases, but, in spite of all these, it brought life. For then, crops were raised. She was on her way was to Angelas house in nearby Fajara F section. They were going to study for mathematics test coming up the next day. It was part of their continuous assessment and shed not been doing too well in class these days. Mr. Conteh had ordered her a number of times to pay attention to him. Miss Ivy had asked her two, three times if she was okay and shed said that she was fine. But she wasnt. Not really, but, she didnt feel free to talk with anyone about it. Maybe because she was in a quandry. She didnt know what it was that she wanted. So, how could she talk with anyone about it? Her feelings and intellect were in a constant turmoil, especially now. Anyway, first things first. She needed help with the mathematics test and Angela was one of the best in Mathematics. She looked up in surprise. Shed just felt some drops of water on her forehead. The sky over her had changed. It was now grayish and clouds were in fast motion all over the sky. Yet, it was hot. But, she must hurry because it was looking like it might come down with rain in a moment. She hoped Fatou would drag her important self out of the bedroom to pick the school uniform shed left to air on the line before the rain came down in earnest. She sighed: if she had a mobile phone, she would have called Fatou now to remind her. Fatous clandestine outings had stopped because she was betrothed to Secka. Secka came almost every evening to see her from his work place. He gave her money every week. Not a lot, but enough to enable Fatou buy credit for her phone and separate the goats from the sheep. Secka wanted to marry Fatou right away, but, Agi had put her foot down that Fatou complete the twelfth grade before marrying. Secka had promised that she would finish her high school education with him. But Agi was unmovable on that score. Secka had given in. Fatou was very aware of the change in her status. She was magnanimous enough to inform Fanta that she must know what she wants and go for it. Shed wanted her own place, a much nicer place than her parents. Shed wanted a mobile phone. Now she had all those things. Secka lived in a two bedroom flat. The kitchen had a tiny camp gas cooker and a small fridge, both luxuries. Also, he had a T.V set, a video recorder, a radio/ cassette player, and a DVD player. The only thing Fatou wanted now was a car and Secka had promised her that there would be one with in the next two years. True, she had to go through circumcision to get what she wanted. The men who could come forward like Secka did to marry a girl wanted good girls. Secka, like most
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men, was a traditionalist even though hed gone to school and had a diploma in information technology. Fanta knew what Miss Ivy would have said about Secka if shed told her. She could hear Miss Ivy ask So he went to school, but, did school go through him? Mary, the young wife next door, had told her during their hair making session that Fatous pride and satisfaction would fly out of the window once she married Secka and moved in with him. For her own husband, Bilal, was a man like Secka and she, a circumcised girl like Fatou. Bilal regularly slapped her for not tasting sweet and just as regularly took some sweetness from some uncircumcised girls outside. Fanta was tormented. What to do? Who was right? Tradition or fact? What could she do? She couldnt fight her parents. She had no place to turn to, her relatives would only send her back. She was still small, she needed her parents. Oh, what was a girl to do?

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CHAPTER 14

It was a balmy morning, the sky overcast with the threat of sudden downpour as is typical of the month of July. But, the air was sweet with the smell of mangoes, fat and juicy and, in abundance. Flies, a lustrous green and heavy with substance, accompanied the mangoes. Then the mosquitoes. These were dark and menacing. They flew about unashamedly, biting at will. The men and women standing about in Pa Jobes compound slapped at their arms, legs and even faces intermittently. Another female rite of passage was in process and they were waiting for their different wards. Mafanta was in the group of young girls being circumcised. She had been sent as Fatou was in the care of a relative to pass through this rite. Her parents could not afford to take the time necessary off. She would need at least a week to heal and then travel back to the city. It was out of the question that her father should come. It was not mans work, and, a week out of her mothers business would mean no coming of age party with its attendant presents from family and friends.. Fanta was really looking forward to that. The waiting groups suddenly left off whatever small talk were were engaged in. One of those attending the operation had come out of the inner compound. They moved as a body toward him. Is all well? Yes, but two of the girls are bleeding still. Weve done everything. Now, Im going for the marabout? That was not good news at all. And, to make it worse, the man was scurrying off, indisposed to answering their questions as to who and who out of the ten girls were in trouble. Now, all they could do was pray and wait. In one accord, they began, each muttering his or her favourite passages from the Quran. Which of the girls had brought this evil? The last batch didnt have evil girls in it. Therefore, none had died. Well, theyd see. Mafanta was one of the girls bleeding their lives away on the circumcision ground. She was so far gone that the voices around her seemed to be coming from a great distance. She was not aware of any real pain, just a slight peppering in between her legs. But she was feeling woozy. It seemed that one moment she was in her body and the next, she was out of it. She was seeing faces now: her mothers, her little brothers, her sisters, Miss Ivys, hazy representations of her classmates, then her fathers -- stolid, unsmiling. In a moment given only to the dying, she knew she was going. With this came an urgent need of her mother. She was crying now. No, she was screaming for her mother. Only, no sound came out. It was all inside of her because she was too fargone. A question was pushing itself into what was left of her conscious mind. Whos right? Whos right? Now, she knew the answer, but, it was too late for her. She could hear Miss Ivy again. Whos right?. Do the right thing. The voice as so faint now. Do..The..Right..Thing..
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