Akata Witch: A Novel

  “Do you all know the rules?” the referee asked loudly.

  “Yes,” they chorused.

  “Each of you step up and seal it.”

  Everyone crowded in and the referee watched closely to make sure that each player pressed a thumb to the center of the symbol.

  “You won’t like the result if you break this pact,” he told everyone. “So don’t even try.”

  All the players ran to their positions for the kickoff. The white team had won the coin toss, so Sunny stepped into the center circle as the green team stepped back.

  “The players are getting in position,” an amplified young female voice said. Sunny saw the commentator in the front of the audience. “It seems that the green team will play the ball forward first. Not since fifteen years ago when Onyeka Nwankwo played for the green team has a girl participated in the Zuma Cup. But this albino girl is certainly the first ever to play center forward! What excitement we are having on this warm Zuma Festival Day!”

  “What is this?” the center forward for the white team asked his teammates in English. He pointed at her and turned to his teammates. “You see this?”

  One of the other boys in white laughed and said something in a language she didn’t understand. Two other boys in white laughed hard, too. There was a rise in the chatter from the audience. She was used to ridicule, but this hurt more than usual. This wasn’t just about her being albino, this was about her being a girl—an ugly girl. Stupid boys. Stupid, blockhead, idiot boys, she thought.

  “Hey, Godwin, who said ghosts could play?” the boy in front of Sunny loudly asked.

  Godwin only shook his head, hunkering down into position. The white team’s center was about to say something else when he suddenly fell backward. Behind her, Sasha laughed hard. “Asshole,” Sasha said, putting a pouch of juju powder back into his pocket. Sunny grinned.

  “Ibou, are you all right?” the ref asked the white team’s center.

  “Ibou grunted, angrily getting to his feet.

  “Hey, no more of that,” the ref said, pointing at Sasha.

  Sasha held his arms out. “The game hasn’t started yet.”

  “Well, now it has.” The ref took out a pocket watch, put a whistle to his lips, and blew, handing the ball to Sunny.

  She placed it on the center spot and took a deep breath. The moment she brought her foot back, five copper chittim fell next to Sunny, but she was too busy to care. She kicked the ball diagonally to Ousman and ran.

  “And they’re off,” the commentator said. “Ousman kicks it back to Sunny. Sunny takes the ball around Ibou, the center forward from Senegal! Look at those feet!”

  She remembered what Godwin said about the other team being distracted by her, and she took full advantage of the element of surprise. She dribbled the ball with speed, zigzagging around the other team and checking her peripheral vision for flashes of green. She spotted Agaja to her left. When she got close enough to the goalpost, she passed the ball to him. He took the shot. It flew in like a bullet. The crowd jumped up and shouted.

  “GOOOOOOOOOAL! The green team scores!” the commentator shouted.

  “Ha-ha!” she shouted, running over to Agaja and hugging him. She heard someone shout her name and saw Orlu and Chichi standing up and jumping in the front seats. She blew a kiss at them and they cheered louder: “Sunny, o! Sunny, o!!!”

  The other team barely knew what hit them. As he stepped into the center circle, Ibou looked infuriated. His nostrils flared like a bull’s. Sunny glared right back at him. Adrenaline was blasting through her veins. Have to move really quick now, she thought. He’s going to try to hurt me.

  But she wasn’t afraid. She was playing soccer in the sun with other players and she was good. She knew the minute that ball had dropped. She wasn’t just good at kicking a ball around, she was good at playing with a team. “I’ve had your chittim given to your friends over there for safekeeping,” the ref told her.

  She nodded, stepping away from the center circle and keeping her eye on Ibou. The ref blew his whistle as Ibou placed the ball on the center spot. He kicked it to his teammate, who dribbled it.

  “Pass it back here,” Ibou roared. “Let me show this girl.” Sunny ran at Ibou as soon as he got the ball, and they scrambled for it. Ibou tried to elbow her in the ribs, but she dodged him and took the ball with her.

  “And Sunny makes a fool of Ibou, again,” the commentator said.

  She ran with it, looking around for the others.

  “Sasha!” she shouted, passing to him. It was intercepted. They all turned and ran to the other side. The boy who took it was fast. Before she knew it, the ball was dribbled through the defensive line. Ibou elbowed Mossa as he passed and Mossa fell to the ground clutching his chest. The ref blew the whistle as Ibou passed the ball to his teammate. The boy kicked it hard toward the goal. Godwin leapt and knocked the ball out of the way. Then he ran to Mossa. “You okay?” he asked, helping the boy up.

  “Sorry ’bout that,” Ibou said. Then he shook his head. “No, not really.”

  By the second half, Sunny could barely think straight, she was in such ecstasy. The white team was made up of brutes, but when they weren’t hurting people, they were really good. Somehow Sunny’s team managed to hang on, down only two to three.

  Godwin had them go from an attacking arrangement to a defensive one when he realized that the boys on defense were terrified of the white team. It was Godwin, Sasha, Ousman, Agaja, and Sunny who really held them together.

  “Kouty, kick it out of bounds!” she shouted as she pushed past the white team player trying to block her. Kouty was surrounded by four opponents like a trapped rabbit. He kicked wildly toward Sasha. Ibou swooped in, stole the ball, and soon after the white team scored.

  “Oh, no!” she said, stamping her foot. She tried to give Kouty an encouraging smile. “Nice try,” she said, and went back to the center.

  “One minute left in the game,” the commentator said. “Can the green team make two goals by then? It’s doubtful, but they don’t seem ready to give up.”

  “I’m certainly not,” Sunny said as she faced Ibou.

  “You guys never had a chance,” Ibou said. “Girls belong on the damn sidelines.”

  “Do you know what century it is?” she asked.

  “What do you care about time, ghost girl?” he said.

  “Trash-talking on the field, I see,” the commentator remarked. “One of the richest traditions of the Zuma Cup. Seems we’re witnessing the creation of a new rivalry between the white and green!”

  “Ey!” Sasha said to Ibou. “Why don’t you shut your mouth before I make your lips fatter?”

  Ibou pointed angrily at Sasha and ran his finger across his neck.

  Sasha just laughed and said, “Bring it.” He’d already fouled Ibou six times. It didn’t compare to the number of times the white team had fouled the green defensive line, all of whom were younger, smaller, and more afraid. Ibou had fouled Sunny three times and she had the bruises on her shins and cuts on her knees to prove it.

  The ref blew his whistle as Sunny put the ball down. She passed it to Agaja, who passed it to Sasha, who passed it back to Sunny. Ibou immediately came at her, and the two fought for the ball. Ibou grabbed it with his foot; she put her foot on his foot and snatched the ball away. He swerved around her and took it. She shot out her foot and got it back. They went on like this for several more seconds, Ibou cursing as he fought with her. Sunny was laughing. Two members of the white team came running over to triple-team Sunny.

  “Stay back!” Ibou shouted, out of breath.

  “A foot battle,” the commentator said. “The albino girl against the superstar boy.”

  Sunny didn’t know she could be so fast and quick. Eventually, he got it away from her and he laughed, victorious. She was so tickled with herself that she forgot to be angry.

  “Sasha, stay there!” she shouted as she pursued Ibou. He was zigzagging, trying to shake her off. But she anticipated his
every move. She saw her chance and snatched it from right between his legs. She took off, passing back and forth with Sasha. Most of the white team’s offensive was overconfident, so they’d left the other half of the field open. Sasha passed the ball to Agaja, who dribbled past the two remaining white defenders and then squared the ball to Sunny. She played in a perfect cross to Sasha, who slammed it in just as the ref called time.

  “GOOOOOOOOAL!” the commentator shouted. Everyone cheered.

  In the end, they lost three to four, but it was hard to tell. Godwin went running from his goalpost and the whole team smashed together in one big group hug. “That was amazing, o!” Godwin exclaimed.

  “Did you see her?” Kouty exclaimed.

  “Like Pele!” Sasha shouted.

  The French speakers were shouting in French.

  And chittim rained on us all.

  The white team looked half as happy, and less than half as much chittim fell around them. They gathered and calmly slapped hands, turning to look at the green team celebrating its loss.

  “And this year’s Zuma Cup goes to the white team, captained by Ibou Diop. We hope you enjoy your gift certificates to Fadio’s Furiously Fascinating Book Shop, located in Abuja. Congratulations to you and your scholar teachers.”

  15

  Hold Your Breath

  “How am I supposed to go back home after a day like this?” Sunny asked. “Regular life is going to seem so boring.”

  She and Chichi were in the bathroom. Since there were no showers at the festival, she’d done the best she could with a wet washcloth, then sprayed herself with perfume she’d bought with some of the chittim she’d earned at the soccer game kickoff. She looked at her new braids in the mirror. Chichi had taken her to a hair stall right after the game, where the stylist had used skill and juju to speed-wash then braid Sunny’s hair. The tiny, neat braids framed her face and fell just above her shoulders.

  Chichi laughed. “The night is still young, though.”

  “What’s this social thing anyway? Is there any way we can skip it? I’m exhausted.”

  “Nah, we have to wait for Anatov to get out of that meeting, anyway.”

  Outside, it was early evening and a nice cool breeze was blowing. Sasha and Orlu sat waiting on a nearby bench. Sasha was smoking a cigarette. “Man, what were you all doing in there?” he asked. He threw down his cigarette butt and ground it with his sandal.

  He’s lucky he can run on the field without wheezing like an old man, smoking those things, Sunny thought.

  “Orlu, do you know who we give these uniforms back to?” she asked.

  “Keep it. You’re on the green team if you want to play next year.”

  “Excellent,” Sasha said. “I’m in.”

  “Me, too,” she said.

  The social had already begun by the time they got there. It was in a tent beside the field. Inside, bass-heavy dance music blasted. Two older students stood at the entrance. “Welcome,” one said. She looked them up and down. “Who’s your teacher?”

  “Anatov,” the other said. He pointed at Sasha and her. “At least those two. They’re the football players from the green team.”

  “Oh!” she said, recognizing Sunny. “You were great! I always wanted to play, but I didn’t know I could. At least the girls who come after you will know now.”

  Sunny was delighted. She hadn’t even thought of that.

  The boy chuckled. “They’ll have to play as well as her, or they shouldn’t bother.” Sunny frowned. Why should girls be held to higher standards to play?

  “Anatov’s our teacher, too,” Chichi said, looking a little annoyed.

  “All right,” he said. “Go on in and enjoy the food. No teachers are allowed, so you can relax.” He handed them each a small white towel. “You’ll need these.”

  The air inside the tent was humid, and smelled like rich soil, headily scented flowers, and leaves. Vines with tiny purple glowing round flowers hung from the ceiling. There were small bushes and trees lining the walls, and a large one in the middle.

  Sunny watched, openmouthed, as the central tree lifted up on its roots and slowly rotated to the loud music. Beneath the tree, students danced. On the far side of the tent was a buffet. It started raining and thundering, and all the people on the dance floor raised their hands and shouted, “Heeeeey!”

  “Oh, this is wild,” Sasha said, wiping his face.

  “Let’s get some food,” Orlu said, making for the buffet. “I’m starving.”

  The rain soon stopped, but the air was so humid that their clothes were soaked.

  Several people recognized Sasha and Sunny and told them that they’d played a great game. Godwin, who was surrounded by girls, waved hello as they passed. Sasha slapped and grasped his hand. He greeted the girls and they all twittered and grinned. Ugh, sometimes I’m embarrassed to be a female, Sunny thought.

  “Girls always glom on to the athletes,” Chichi said as Sasha blabbed with Godwin. Sunny only gave Godwin a brief smile on their way to the buffet.

  There was egusi soup and garri, fried plantain, pepper soup, red stew and rice, roasted goat meat, and a bunch of dishes Sunny didn’t recognize. Not a bad selection at all. Sasha rejoined them as they were sitting down. “If they really want to represent, they should add some cornbread, fried chicken, and collard greens,” Sasha said. “But, oh, I forgot, this is the West African festival, as if African Americans ain’t West African.”

  “Maybe some KFC?” Sunny suggested, laughing.

  “Better yet—Popeye’s,” Sasha said. “Or Harold’s.”

  “What’s this yellow rice thing?” Orlu asked. “Isn’t it Ethiopian or something? It’s delicious!”

  “Nice game.” They all looked up. The boy who’d spoken was carrying a plate heavy with fufu and a large bowl of soup. Three of his friends stood behind him.

  “Uh, thanks,” Sunny said. It was Yao, the one who’d mocked Sasha’s name. Sasha sucked his teeth and looked away.

  “Chichi,” Yao said, “you look nice tonight. Too bad it won’t help.”

  “You never know when to hide,” Chichi said.

  “You think I’d hide from you?” Yao said, trying to sound condescending. He only succeeded in looking stupid. It was painfully obvious that he liked Chichi.

  “You want me to embarrass you again? You must be one of those guys who enjoy humiliation.”

  “Whenever you’re ready,” Yao said, gritting his teeth.

  “Why don’t you sit down and fill your stomach first,” Chichi said loftily. “Maybe have a dance or two. Enjoy it while it lasts. Then we’ll see.”

  Yao narrowed his eyes. “Come on, you guys.” They walked away.

  “What’s the deal with you two?” Sunny asked Chichi.

  “Wahala,” Orlu said. “Trouble. Childish trouble.”

  “Yao and I hate each other,” Chichi declared. Sunny scoffed. How stupid did Chichi think she was? “But I’m smarter,” Chichi continued. “I showed him last year, but he won’t listen, so I have to show him again.”

  What is it with Leopard People and competition? But Sunny wasn’t one to talk. Only two hours ago, she’d been high on adrenaline herself.

  “I see that look in your eye, Chichi,” Orlu said. “I hope you’re not planning anything dangerous.”

  “I wish I was back at the hotel sleeping,” Sunny said. She shoveled jallof rice into her mouth.

  After they finished, they sat back sipping milky tea and patting their full stomachs. The music was louder and more people were dancing.

  “Oh, come on,” Orlu grumbled as Yao approached again.

  “Didn’t I tell you—” Chichi started to say.

  “Want to dance?” Yao asked, holding out a hand.

  “No,” Sasha said, looking very annoyed. “She doesn’t.”

  Yao glared at him. “Did I ask you?” He looked at Chichi, waiting for an answer.

  “All right,” Chichi said, getting up. “Let’s go.”

  Sasha
scowled as Chichi walked hand and hand with Yao to the rotating tree. Then he turned and waved at Agaja and Ousman, who were standing with a group of older boys and girls. They waved back, motioning him to come over.

  “I’ll see you guys later,” Sasha said, getting up.

  Sunny took a gulp of her tea and looked at Orlu. “Wanna dance?” The words were out before she’d really thought about them. She felt her face grow hot.

  Orlu half-smiled and looked at the dance floor. “That tree looks dangerous.”

  “I know,” she said, laughing louder than she meant to.

  There was a long pause. “All right,” he finally said, putting down his cup. “Come on.”

  As they walked toward the dancing, jumping, laughing, wiggling students, Sunny remembered how tired she was. She’d always liked dancing, making it a point to hit the floor at all the parties her parents took her to, but right now her legs were sore. She was worn out. And it was so hot and humid.

  The moment they got near the tree, the music grew louder and she jumped. Then she smiled. She could feel her spirit face just behind her face rejoicing. After that, she was in the zone, shaking her hips, throwing her arms in the air, shuffling her feet, and sweating like everyone else. Orlu wasn’t bad, either. Chichi saw them and dragged Yao over. For that hour and a half, they were all joyous.

  As it grew late, the tree switched to slower music; not couples music, but cooldown music. The social was almost over. People started leaving. There was a notebook at the entrance for people to write their contact information so everyone could keep in touch. Chichi had scoffed and said this was a useless practice. In most African countries, it was hard to keep in touch with people from far away, even with e-mail. In the Leopard community, it apparently wasn’t much different. “Only the scholars know how to communicate easily across large expanses of space,” Orlu said as they returned to their cold cups of tea.

  “Them, and people born with the ability,” Chichi added.

  “You’re done with Yao, right?” Orlu quickly asked.

  “Where’s Sasha?” Sunny asked.