In the mornings our trip was the same in reverse, except we didn’t run or play games. We crossed the wasteland and Mongoose Road, picked up Joe and Sika and along the way, Ben, Ato, Eben, Jane, Emma and Emily, Kofi, Wei, Duke and Ama would join us in precise order. Once together, we would compare lunches and exchange some items, then we would hurry to make it through the school gates before morning assembly (If you were late you could be whipped in front of the entire school!). We were a fiercely loyal group. We told each other everything. Well, almost. Junior and I didn’t tell the others; except Emma and Emily who were our girlfriends, about the menace we faced on our daily trek across the wasteland that separated Mongoose Road and our house. In Junior’s 10-year-old wisdom, it was right that we told them, as they could be our wives. Hadn’t I noticed that dad told Mum everything?

The menace was a group of boys who went to the school two miles in the opposite direction from our house. Scars and bruises marked every one of the six, occasionally eight boys, and the biggest one had a dark patch on his cream-coloured arm. Every morning we would walk past them on our way to school, and sometimes in the afternoon we would meet them coming back from their school – the New Experiment Middle School. They were a lot bigger than us, and they sneered at our white shirts when we crossed paths. They wore yellow shirts. Often, they bore live lizards and frogs in bags of in their hands. Their voices were gruff and unfriendly when they taunted us with songs like; “Your white shirts will be muddy when you get home. You better watch your back when you’re walking alone.” Going home after school was always worse because they tended to be in rowdier spirits. The songs brewed an intoxicating fear in us. As we crossed Mongoose Road towards our house, we nursed our satchel straps like prayer beads hoping that we would miss them, or that they would ignore us. Unfortunately, we saw them regularly. We would see them turn into the path kicking a ball made of old socks and paper stuffing, then as we walked past, they would hinder our progress by standing in our path for a few seconds, and burst out laughing. That raggedy ball came to signify apprehension for me. Junior insisted that we continue to use that route because otherwise they would know we were afraid of them. Our encounters thus became an almost daily ritual.

Seventeenth April was Emma’s birthday. It was a very hot day. I remember because, although it was not allowed at school, Junior had two buttons open at the top of his shirt so you could see his brown skin disappearing under his white vest. He also had a birthday card for Emma, which he didn’t let me write in. I wrote in Emily’s instead. In school, Mrs Adanu – Emma’s teacher – allowed us to have a party in her classroom at break time. Mrs Adanu was nice. She was a young widow with no children of her own but she doted on every pupil in the school. We ate and jumped rope and played ampe until Mrs Adanu asked us to sweep the room and return to our respective classrooms. I had to run back to my class because my teacher, Mr Owusu, would “lash” anyone who was late with his cane. He was not as kind as Mrs Adanu. He soaked his cane in a water bottle behind his table so it would cause more pain. “If you fool, you will feel the wrath of my cane!”

As soon as I was seated, Mr Owusu started a quick fire multiplication game. I enjoyed it because I was good at Maths; He enjoyed it because he got to lash any pupil who made a mistake. I pretended I was intent on the birds pecking at the scraps left by groups of boys and girls at break time so he would call me. As soon as he did, I answered the question correctly - to his disgust! It was soon time to go home, and all fourteen of us went flying through the school gates, with our voices as high as the blue skies, as we shared the stories of our day. Ben and Duke suggested that we stop at Old Man Mintah’s house and steal some mangoes, but Junior said no.

“We can’t get into trouble again. Not today. It’s Emma’s birthday.”

“Can’t we just collect the ones that have fallen outside his wall?” Duke liked to get his own way.

Wei settled the dispute. “I have mangoes at home, Duke, I’ll give you some.”

We sat at the edge of the gutter in front of Emma and Emily’s house, ate some tarts that her mother had made, and played Alokoto; a game in which you each spun a modified snail shell and tried to turn it over without touching it directly. You used the sand around the spinning shell to overturn it. If you succeeded and your opponent failed, you got to keep the shell. Kofi won four shells and we all headed home after that.

As Junior and I approached the wasteland, we saw the boys from New Experiment Middle School coming up the pathway. They stood in our way when we reached them. This time they did not move. They noticed Junior’s open buttons and said “Ah! No respect eh!” and started to circle us. There were six of them. I looked at Junior for guidance. There was no way we could fight them. They were bigger and there were more of them. He was watching the biggest of them closely. I was not sure what to do, but I trusted Junior would protect me. Suddenly, there was a puff of sand and he was gone! He had escaped through a gap between the boys and ran off home leaving me behind. I was shocked. He had never deserted me before. The boys all turned to watch him go.

“Oh he’s gone!” they exclaimed. They made no move to chase him.

I found the comment mildly amusing, but I ran as fast as the wind would let me until I reached our front gate, then started giggling. Junior was waiting there for me.

He hugged me and said, “I can’t always fight for you.”

I was silent. I was catching my breath.

Junior opened the gate, and then asked, “What happened when I ran away?”

My laughter preceded my speech, “They said ‘Oh, he’s gone!’”

He started laughing too, and we laughed until we were out of breath.