LITMIR.BIZ

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      —I am the prophet, not my wife.

      —I forgot that you are the prophet. And now I know you have a wife.

      —I suppose, but you knew that. Like you said, I look like a man with a wife. But you don’t believe I am a prophet. You have two kinds of prophets. The Bible is clear about that. One will tell you what is to come. That one goes around and says that this and this will happen. That prophet is the one who flames up like fire, and then suddenly, it goes away. That one does not even understand what she is doing. One day she starts to see things, and she knows what is happening. And just like that, it goes away. God goes away. The people who used to live here, Ashanti people, they used to have those prophets. Long before the British people came and built the sanatorium up here, Osei Tutu and his people knew that this place was special. Some prophet said it. They did not even understand what they were hearing, maybe. That is one kind of prophet. And then there is the one who explains things—that one is like a preacher, but different because she sees things, explains things, shows you things in your heart, shows you who you are. That one is always a surprise to the people who hear her, but never to herself. She is always going to be a prophet. People call them wise. Like how people call you wise. Don’t they? I know, you tell them they don’t know, but you know things and you know people’s hearts, and you can tell if they are good or bad. Isn’t that it?

      —Well, you think you know me well.

      —I know about you. Yes. I know you were not always cooking. I know if things did not happen you could be an . . . inspector.

      —So you are a policeman. Are you investigating me?

      —No, I am a minister. A prophet.

      —But you came to see me.

      —I came to see you.

      —It is far for you to come.

      —Yes, but it is a nice drive. By the time I reached Achimota there was not too much traffic. Then Dome, then through Kwabenya town, then straight through Berekuso. Even down at the T-junction, the people selling fish looked idle, as if somebody had told them that a storm was coming. Anyway, it was nice and cool by the time I started up here. I did not know if I would find you. But God was guiding me.

      —You want to know something funny?

      —What is it?

      —I have no interest in knowing why you are here. Why is that? I am not even curious.

      —Maybe you know. Maybe you are a prophet.

      —Oh, you know I don’t know. But everything is about one thing, and that thing, it is so normal in my life that it is not even important.

      —You are right, it is a strange thing.

      —That is what I said. Look, look, look.

      —What?

      —There, see, the moon. The cloud opened and the moon, look!

      —It is beautiful.

      —It is very beautiful.

       7

       A Woman

      —Did you know that in Nairobi, if you map all the tweets that happen, most of them are clustered in the zoo? It is white people looking at animals. And all around, there is darkness. But I like to think of my world, which is a lonely world, as a place where our hearts spark light at moments of great trauma or crisis. Think of the map of the world. Everything is black. Then think of sparks, sharp bursts of white and yellow light every time someone says, “Help.” Every second would look interesting. It would make it seem like we are not alone. Sometimes I think of what would happen if every time a woman had an orgasm a light flared up. There is something of pained joy there. The world would look like joy. And none of us would be alone. You may be ready to take me with you. And nothing will spark on the map. This is the darkness of what it means to be alone. But I like to think, my brother, that when I went into that room, and I saw the man lying there, and when there was that moment which I see every day but never say, all across the world, a spark of alarm went off, and I was righteous, and I was not alone. I see it like that.

       8

       A Man

      —I will tell you a story. I got a call to go to the home of a family I know. Well, not really their home, but the place where their son lives. It is not far from Legon, a small place in a compound. It was almost dawn when I got there. There were a lot of people around. They led me into the room where he stayed. The half-light came through the louvers. The son was on the bed. There was blood all over it. He was half-naked. Somebody had cut off his member. It was lying on the floor. I might have missed it, but they showed it to me. I asked if the police had come. They said the police had come and then went and were coming back. I asked them who did it. They said the boy was not good. That he was known to rape women in the area. They said people knew, but no one would trouble him because of the family. They said his brother was in the air force, so nobody wanted to trouble them. He would bring girls to the place and then rape them. Usually they were not girls from Accra. They were girls from the north who came to find work. He would promise them things and then he would rape them. Everybody knew that. I asked them who did it. They said they thought it was the police, but they didn’t know. I asked why they thought it was the police. They said it was what people were saying. One woman said she heard a girl crying and screaming, and then for a long time she heard nothing. So I went to see the family. They said the boy was bad, but nobody had a right to do that to him. They wanted to know who was responsible. I told them I would look into it. Then I prayed for them and went to the station. The officers said they had heard, and it was they who told the family, and maybe they were the ones who sent it to me. They said they had to investigate to see what happened, but he was a bad boy. I asked who was the senior officer on duty. They said she had gone home.

       9

       A Woman and a Man

      —So now I know that you are here for a reason.

      —Well, I did not say I had no reason.

      —You did not. But you have hidden why you are here.

      —I have to close whatever case I can. There are so many that need to be closed.

      —And how do you close a case? You want to know who committed a crime, right?

      —That and why. Mostly I want to know why.

      —So you came here to close the case.

      —Is this one not obvious?

      —By obvious you mean what happened made sense and was the right thing?

      —I did not say that.

      —Then what do you mean?

      —I mean that you know what happened.

      —I think I do.

      —Maybe you do.

       10

       A Woman

      —Let me tell you a story. A woman was the officer in charge on a night when very little happened. A few fights, some drunk driving, but nothing much. The officer was looking at the clock and planning for when she got off work. At one point she went out into the front yard and sat on the steps. Sometimes she liked to do that, just to think and plan her life. And when she was sitting there, a girl limped into the yard. She was crying. The light from the station showed her face as she came closer. Her face was broken. Her head was bleeding. And she was trying to hold together the blouse she had on, but it was torn. The officer could tell by the way she held her body what had happened. The pain was in her center. She asked if she could stay in the station for the night because she was afraid. The officer asked her what she was afraid of. She said there was a man who was looking for her, and she wanted to rest a little bit and then would leave before first light.

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