Page 35 of Craving a King

Kofi’s uncle looks up at him as he stares at me and claps his hands together once in joy. “Praise God, praise God! Ella, you let me know any way the church can help you in this endeavor.”

I respond immediately. “Do you think you could host one or two community meetings where I can present the school’s proposal and get feedback?”

He leans forward and squeezes my hand. “Of course I can!” He leans closer to me and whispers, “And if you need my help in another endeavor…” He takes a quick and furtive glance up at Kofi before winking at me. “Just let me know. I think you’re here to change more than our community. Maybe a king’s heart?” I blush.

Kofi interrupts by clearing his throat. “Well, uncle, if you are done flirting with my CEO, I’d like to show her the gardens out back.”

Kofi’s uncle stands. “Of course. I will be in here if you need anything.”

Kofi offers his hand and I stand. I shake Kofi’s uncle’s hand. “See you later, reverend, and thank you!”

“You are very welcome, dear.” He releases my hand and walks back toward the office he appeared from. After he disappears, I hear him yell, “You two enjoy the village today. Akwasidae is always fun.”

Kofi and I walk out the church into the cemetery and gardens. It is beautiful.

“Come.” Kofi holds his hand out. “I want to show you something very important to me.”

We walk for a few minutes deep into the forest, passing fewer and fewer headstones until we are covered with tree canopies and walking through brush. Kofi’s pace is two steps ahead of mine and determined. It slows once we approach a grand white and bronze sepulcher. The grandeur and size look out of place among the humble surroundings of the forest. Yet, Kofi looks at it like it’s where it has always been. Instinctively, he walks to it and rubs his hands along the marble, embracing it in some way. I keep my distance, feeling that I need to be invited into his moment. After a few moments, I speak up.

“Where are we, Kofi?”

He snaps out of his trance and turns to me. “Come.”

I walk to him and read the front of the structure:In loving memory of Akosua Asante Ajyei. Queen of the Ashanti. Mother to All. May the ancestors watch all that she loves.I stand reading the inscription over and over again with my arms hugging my chest. I shift from one leg to the other knowing this must be his mother’s grave but needing him to confirm he brought me face to face with the one subject he does not speak about. “Is this where your mother rests?”

“Yes.” The pain in his eyes confirms it although her death was over 25 years ago. The weight of it hangs on him like it was only yesterday. “This forest was her favorite place, and Tafo is her hometown. My father insisted she be buried in a place she loved.” He turns back to me. “She hated the palace and the city. She thought it was isolating and pretentious. She was out here any chance she got.”

I reach out to touch his arm. “Kofi, what happened to your mother? How did she die?”

Kofi rolls his shoulders back and takes a cleansing breath. He turns and I see a single tear threaten to unleash more, but he doesn’t allow it. I wipe it away and he looks me in the eye before gently grabbing my wrist. A beat passes, and he brings my hand to his lips before sitting down in front of his mother’s grave. He reaches up for me and I allow him to pull me down into his lap. He buries his nose into my hair and breathes in the confidence he needs to tell his story.

“I’ll start from the beginning.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Rememberance

Kofi

“My mother was a beautiful woman and set apart to be queen at an early age.

We can trace our lineage back 14 generations, and her father, my grandfather, was Tafo’s 18th chief. The seat of Asantehene may only be passed to men, and that man may choose any wife that shows she can uphold the honor and customs of the Ashanti to stand by him. Of course, this can easily be many Ashanti women. However, due to our own form of aristocracy and classism, power is only exchanged through a few families and villages: the Asantes of Tafo, the Ajyeis of Tarkwa, and the Apeagyeis of Aboso. Each of these villages has a chief that makes up part of the council that appoints and advises the king. Are you following me so far?”

Ella looks up at me and nods. I run my finger down her jaw and continue. “If the chief has a daughter, he prepares her for the honor. My grandfather had two daughters to choose from, but my mother was the obvious choice. Not only was she beautiful, but she was pliable. My grandfather was an unethical tyrant. He would do anything to win favor and money, and that made him a hard man. My mother’s mother died when she was very young, so she and her younger sister, Afia, grew up with just my grandfather and his regime. They both became very good at handling powerfully moody men. My mother especially knew how to turn the head of a king. However, she was never able to capture my grandfather or father’s heart.

“My parents married right away, as soon as they both turned 18. It was a good marriage for about five years, and then my father became Asantehene when his father suddenly died.” I start to shift and rub my jaw. Ella places her hand on my thigh to calm me down.

“I came the year after he was crowned, and my mother doted upon me. However, she almost died having me, and it was determined she could not have any more children. My father was disappointed…he wanted a house full of children, as does any king. You know African virility and all that jazz.”

Ella snickers at my comment. “It’s powerful stuff, huh?”

I squeeze her shoulder and chuckle—that would have been borderline offensive coming from anyone else. But from Ella, I take it as an attempt to lighten the moment. “Yes, ma’am. We make babies without even touching a woman.”

Ella turns around in my lap and smiles. It calms me and she continues her joke. “Lucky for me, my birth control has never lost a battle.”

I smile back and rub her cheek before she turns back around and lies against my chest.

“So, after your mother had you, what happened?”

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