V e e r a

My fingers dig into the steaming, orange Jollof rice, tearing the meat into pieces. I chuckle as the rest of my foreign friends battle cutlery on one hand and a paper plate of Accra's local delicacy on the other. 

Except for Matteo. Years of stealing aloo parathas, naan and butter chicken from my tiffin has made him a hand-eating expert. 

My dark eyes rest on his pale face. Slight copper brown strands of hair fell across his forehead, softening the sharp jaw he acquired over the years of serious athletics. 

Yet, he applied to a law school in Europe. And I, heading to Singapore for pre-med.

My tongue burned when his steel blue eyes zapped to mine. Flushing a bright red, I continued stuffing my face with the warm rice and succulent meat, chiding myself for still being naïve and feeling things I shouldn't be feeling. 

Because I date my father's friend's son, and he, our highschool's topper. 

Out of habit, he dabbed a tissue against my chin as the tomato sauce rolled down, a habit he acquired ever since he met me. My family and I were fresh off the boat; I was just six. With two oily braids and a tiffin of chicken biryani, I shivered as a few of my classmates walked out due to the strong smell of the spices - if their hesitance on my thick Indian accent wasn't enough. I had starved till recess, refusing to open my Dabba till a mud-streaked, toothless boy begged me to share the 'heavenly weirdly coloured' rice with him. 

His baby blue eyes were trained on my slow fingers, as I gently pried the meat and rice with my fingers. From then to now, with ten years in between, his eyes have always been on my habits. Never have I felt foreign in his presence. Yet, all the feelings that fluttered in my heart were anything but known. 

M a t t e o

I half-heartedly smiled at my course friend, pretending to have heard what he said about Ghana's history. No, don't mind, the history was amazing but time stopped when I dabbed her chin with my tissue. Her lashes blinked rapidly, apprehension and longing flickering in them. Or maybe I was imagining things. 

Surely she joined me to the summer student exchange course of Cultural Diversity in Ghana for credit, not because it was our last holiday together. 

She looked more at home in the colourful city of Accra; her hot pink kurti stuck against her body in the heat. Sometimes I wondered what if I had risked our friendship and told her what I felt. 

But it was she who began a relationship first. With Sam. 

Washing my mouth, I instinctively shifted closer to her as we navigated our way back to the hotel. "I don't want this summer to end. As in, uh, Africa, in general, has so much more to offer. It's the continent to the beginning of humans, yet it was raided like no other. It's truly so beautiful, completely unlike what we see in movies. I wish we could see more of it." Veera sighed, patting her sweaty face with another tissue. 

"You want to see more of Ghana?"

"Why not?" She replied, rolling up the sleeves of her kurti.

"We have one week of nothingness to do." I offered, smiling as joy, then protest rose in those beautiful eyes. 

"No way! Last Christmas you took me to a crazy road-trip that only lasted for twenty-three minutes because you told no one where we were, and our families thought we were kidnapped!"  I laughed at her complaint, recalling my overexcitement of having gotten my license and foolishly driving through the winter of Chicago. 

Not the best plan. 

But this was Ghana, and there was no chance of snow. Also, my driving skills had become better. 

"Matteo, NO!"

---

V e e r a

There I was, sitting in an old Ford - since that was all Matteo could afford to rent - and driving through the suburbs of Accra. 

Idiot!

I'd die but tell him; it was soothing to roll down the windows and let the wind breeze through in the warm evening. The African sun was shining bright, leaving a dark silhouette of things against the red sky. 

"You love this, don't you." He muttered. Was there ever a time when he couldn't guess my feelings? 

Except for the most important one. But, he started dating Chloe first, didn't he?

'Tan tana tan tan tan tara'

'Tan tana tan tan tan tara'

'Chalti Hai Kya 9 se 12.'

I stared at him, laughing as he put on a classic Bollywood 90's song against the fresh air. Lipsyncing to my best, I yelled to my lungs of the high-pitched, crazy song. 

"Veera," I loved how he never butchered my name, "I wanted to say that-" My heartbeat sped and I didn't know if I was thankful or disappointed that our car suddenly stopped in the middle of nowhere. And when the engine revived, it crashed into a nearby tree - with little damage. 

Phew!

As a group of Ghanaians travelled by us, stopping to ask us help, we quickly denied it, realising what danger we had thrown ourselves into. There was no network and Matteo and I were standing in the middle of the road, where anything could happen. 

"Don't worry," Matteo whispered while I sweated more out of anxiety. No matter how much I learned about Ghana, the continuous news of perils began to hit me. After all, it was a different country with different people. I slightly jumped when another group of Ghanaians dropped by to help us. Matteo politely refused and I sagged in relief once they went. 

"Excuse me, can I help you?"

M a t t e o

Both, Veera and I smiled at the Caucasian stranger, feeling happy to find someone similar to us. The kind man was in his mid-thirties, driving a blue 2015 Fiat. 

"Yes, thank you. We just need to go back to the city if that's not a trouble." I said. 

"Oh, no worries! Good thing, I'm heading there as well, hop on folks!" Eric, as he later introduced himself, said. I grabbed our backpacks and relaxed with Veera in the backseat as Eric mentioned how he too was a tourist in Ghana but came here a few months back for a volunteering project, hence was familiar with the city. 

"The people are good here, but you never know whom to trust-oh wait, you folks must be thirsty from standing in the heat so long. Don't hesitate to drink some water." He grinned, passing us two mini bottles of mineral water. 

As the A.C blasted on our heated skin, I chugged down the bottle of water when Veera grew drowsy, resting her tired head on my arm. I frowned for a moment, realising that she wasn't much of a day sleeper. 

And that's when my vision got blurry too.

Eric grinned through the rear view, whistling as he last said;

"You never know whom to trust."

A/N:

Yes, there is a slight hint of unintended racism but you see where our leads end up due to that! You can never judge a book by its cover, neither a man by his skin. Share your thoughts by clicking the little yellow star or writing a few words - every thought counts! 

1) Yes it's a conscious decision to change the p.o.v for the prologue and 1st chapter. The prologue and epilogue would be written in 3rd person p.o.v.

1) 'Fresh off the boat' is a common term used for immigrants.

2) Veera does face slight racism in class but hey, that doesn't mean all Americans are evil. After all, she falls in love with one *wink*

3) The song 'Chalti Hai Kya 9 se 12 (Do you wanna go from 9 to 12 - which means a late night movie show, that's considered quite romantic) is a catchy song from the 90's from a film called Judwaa (Twins). You can check the latest version on YouTube 

3) Some general knowledge - The Republic of Ghana, is a unitary presidential constitutional democracy, located along the Gulf of Guinea and the Atlantic Ocean, in the subregion of West Africa. Spanning a land mass of 238,535 km², Ghana is bordered by the Ivory Coast in the west, Burkina Faso in the north, Togo in the east and the Gulf of Guinea and the Atlantic Ocean in the south. Ghana means "Warrior King" in the Soninke language.

Sincerely,

JS 

Ghana

Accra, the capital of Ghana