That answer stayed with her.
Over the next days, life in the house became unbearable. Her cousins laughed about her coming marriage.
“Your beggar husband will probably collapse on the wedding day,” Goi sneered.
“Get used to using leaves,” Chinier added. “He can’t afford tissue.”
But Adama noticed strange things about the man called Obina.
One day she saw him reading a thick black hardcover book beneath a mango tree. Another day she watched him repair a broken kettle with ease. Once, she heard him speak calm, fluent English to a madman in the market, and the man suddenly quieted down.
This was no ordinary beggar.
On the night before the wedding, Adama sat behind the house under the moon. Obina appeared again.
“I know this is not the life you wanted,” he said softly. “If after the wedding you want to leave, I won’t force you to stay.”
Adama stared at him. “Why would you say that?”
