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the mango tree

published: 2011-02-22

“Okay look. As a kid, I used to always climb mango trees. And we used to not think anything of whatever colour we had. I had never thought of myself as being white until I returned from England. Suddenly people were asking me where I was from. From here. I said. My dad is Ghanaian, I was born here! No, no, my skin was too fair. Six years in England. Something in me died. I climbed up a tree in boarding school compound one day and suddenly stopped. I didn’t dare go back down. They had to call Bandit to come get me out of the tree. The branch I was clinging on to for dear life wasn’t even all that far up. Bandit put his sister on his shoulders and she already reached me. Bandit was shouting at me through clenched teeth saying “what do you think you’re doing climbing up a tree like a monkey?” He scolded me in Twi, which we never spoke to eachother in England. I suppose we were embarassed of our language. Bandit’s sister held out her hand and whispered, ‘come Victoria, take my hand. You won’t fall. I promise you’ll be safe.’ She lied.”






2 Responses to “the mango tree”

  1. Felicia Frempong says:

    LOL. . . real cool!

  2. Pina says:

    Yes, she lied.

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