‘Tell me, Kwaku. What exactly happened and what exactly did you see?’ the stout policeman in the black uniform and dusty black beret asked.
But father cut in before I could respond, ‘Oh boss, he is only ten. We have been here for hours and he has already told your men what happened. You have his statement. Isn’t that enough? Please…’
The policeman stroked his chin disbelievingly. His eyes dimmed slightly. When he spoke, it was with an air of reluctance. ‘Okay, you may leave. But we shall contact you if we need more information.’
‘Thank you,’ father said. He led me gently out of the Odorkor Police station to his Corrolla. His phone rang just as we sat down; It was mother. Her shrill voice sounded very worried, but father calmed her down. ‘We’re coming home,’ he informed. As he moved the car and made his way to the main Kaneshie road, I shut my eyes and replayed…
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