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sankalanka
270 Posts |
 Posted - 04 Apr 2009 : 03:05:00
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While I am developing the second part of the Musukuta story, I want to share excerpts from a manuscript.
Those of us who are old enough, can remember the days in Banjul when there used to be madmen along Wellington street. One of those madmen was nicknamed Sahat bankou; to cough and to crouch.
Those of us who are old enough, can also remember the days in Banjul when there used to be Kankurang, Masquerade dancers, and Fanal, lantern boat, processions in the streets of Banjul during christmas.
The following excerpt tries to capture this period, and some of the other exciting events that were part of rich tapestry of Alfdie, Half Die, in Banjul.
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The streets of Alf Die were filled with very interesting characters that the young people found very amusing. There was the madman at the Teffis, the shoping center, at Wellington street who hated any mimic of the way he coughed and crouched, under his old blanket in his tiny spot near the Adonis hotel. Momar and his group would come closer to him and shouted, Sahat Bankou; that was all he needed to hear. He would abruptly wake up from his slumber, and with surprising agility pursued them on a wild chase down the street.
At Kerr Njoofen, the compound adjacent to where Momar lived, was the scene where a lot of the drama that was part of the rich tapestry of Alf Die's history, was enacted. It was the place where the lively Sambasohos, the celebration of the end of the circumcision period, was staged with beautiful songs and drumming.
The celebration of the end of the circumcision period, was the time that those who were circumcised, would come out for the first time after the duration of their confinement to heal. During this period of confinement, no woman was ever allowed to enter the Mbar, the house where the circumcised were domiciled. In the event that the circumcised had to go outside, they had to bow their heads down in their long hooded gowns, so as to avoid looking at women.
The celebration was also the time for the display of bravado, as those who guided and cared for the circumcised openly challenged each other, as to who could withstand more the pain of the Lenge; a narrow long stem from the mangroves swamps, that was used to whip each other on the bare arms. They also challenged each other as to who have the most melodious voice and was more versatile in the Kassak, the singing of those beautiful circumcision songs to the accompaniment of the drums.
takan nwew na mbar njie
takan nwew na mbar njie
su takan nwew way mbar njie
Nnu dor di ko nkeleju.
This was the standard circumcision song, that the circumcised sang in unision, whenever food was brought to them. It celebrated their sense of salivation as they greedily looked forward to enjoy the food. Everyone would wash their hands, and they formed a circle around the bowl of food; nobody was allowed to talk while they ate.
At the end of the circumcision celebration, and in the depth of the night, the circumcised would be led to the outskirts of the city, and to a very remote and dark area. There the Selbes, the circumcision guides, would call Mam, the imaginary god of valor who would institute courage and moral rectitude in the young men. This was a nerve wrenching time for the circumcised, as the Selbes would do anything to scare them. A piece of metal would be tied to a long string, and someone would wind the string around his head; the noise that was made would be a clear indication that Mam was called. This was a moment of fear for the circumcised, and was the highlight of the whole episode. Afterwards, the circumcised would be led to the river to bathe.
Kerr Njoofen was also the home of the Pusgambal, the name that was given to the five faithful friends who formed an organization, that made the yearly christmas festivities an exciting event. They were also called The Faithful Five.
For the last two weeks before Christmas, and shortly after the New Year, the Faithful Five organized Kankurang dances in the mornings and afternoons, that went from compound to compound in most parts of the city. The Kankurangs, one or two on most days, but up to five or more on New Years day robustly danced to the frenzy beating of the Kaur drummers that attracted a lot of people, usually young people.
In the evenings, the fanal, a lantern boat made from bamboo sticks, was carried through the streets of Banjul to the accompaniment of loud drumming and dancing, with a large crowd elatedly following behind.
Momar and other members of the young Faithful Five were the sailors, who carried the lantern boat through the streets of the city. They took turns because of the heavy weight of the boat, three on each side of the wooden pedestal from which it was raised. The kaur drummers beat their rhythmic drums to the singing and dancing of the large crowd behind. The crowd was a mixture of older people, lovers, husbands and wives, and those who wanted to savor in the thrill of the night.
"Tang! Tang! Tangkerangut. Tang! Tang!" "tang! Tang! Tangkerangut. Tank! Tank!" the drums melodiously sounded, with a throng almost a street junction long tromped behind.
There was also a fierce competition to the Kaur drummers. The Famara Awal-ne drummers from a rival organization, was the most popular. The fanal, lantern boat, of this rival organization always had a larger crowd with a rambunctious group of teenagers and hordes of young people who used the nightly event as a venue to date. The large crowd trudged along the pot-holed streets of Banjul, to the distant sounds of the drums almost three or four junctions away.
The fanals, lantern boats, competition that took place at the McCarthy square was an event where the Pusgambal, proved its superiority over its rival organizations. There was one year in particular that the fanal that Koto Badou built was a spectacular ship that had up to seven decks. Instead of being illuminated with candles, this ship had small iridescent light bulbs wired from the bow of the ship to the stern, and powered from a double car battery. The ship made brighter the dimly lit streets with its changeable colors.
Momar and the young Faithful Five members were dressed in white sailor's pants and shrits for that year's Fanal competition. Koto Badou cleverly made their sailor's caps from Bamboo sticks, covered with white paper, that deftly fitted on their heads. They were an instant attraction. As soon as they entered the square the applause from the spectators was deafening. The women singing behind the Kaur drummers cheerfully chanted:
We are the women behind these tall men
The men who make us blush and smile
We are the women behind these handsome men
They are the Faithful Five at Njoofen.
We are the women behind these handsome men
The men who make us laugh and giddy
We are the women behind these tall men
They are the Faithful Five at Njoofen.
As the procession of Fanals came closer to the viewing stand where the judges were seated, the members of the Pusgambal took over from the young Faithful Five. At the viewing stand they raised the Fanal high up in the sky. They dramtically showed the front of the ship; they turned slowly and showed the left side and then the right side of the ship. They showed the back of the ship, and slowly brought the ship down to their knee level. The appalause fromm the spectators was again defeaning.
At the end of the competition, the judges unanimously agreed that the Pusgambal had won.
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kaanibaa
United Kingdom
1169 Posts |
Posted - 04 Apr 2009 : 21:28:41
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| Brother Rene,you sent me back to those golden days and those were very joyous moments for me. I do remember many similar events and this your story evoked them so vividly for me. Thanks for sharing |
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sankalanka
270 Posts |
Posted - 07 Apr 2009 : 20:59:57
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It was on a friday, and shortly after closing from work, Momar stopped at the Cafe Texaco. The Cafe Texaco was located at the heart of the city of Banjul at Independence drive. It was a very popular place where the young people in the city meet. On weekends a lot of people gathered at the place, and drank mugs and mugs of beer before heading to the nightclubs outside the city.
When Momar walked into the Cafe Texaco, he was surprised to see Mawdo who was in the company of two other people. Mawdo was Momar's classmate at the St. Augustine's high school, and he introduced his two friends to him. There was a young man who sat to the left of Mawdo, and then a young lady who sat to his right. The young woman's name was Jainaba. Momar ordered drinks for himself, and also for Mawdo and his friends. Their little group then engaged in a long friendly conversation. Momar hardly stole a glance to the young woman sitting across from him.
After the meeting at the Cafe Texaco, Momar did not see Mawdo again for weeks. They bumped into each other almost a month later.
"It's been a long time since we last saw each other," Momar said to Mawdo.
"I Know. I was kind of busy. You know..." Mawdo replied.
After a brief interval in which Mawdo tried to remember something, he said:
"Momar, do you remember the girl I was with the last time we met at the Cafe Texaco? She is always asking me about you."
"You must be kidding me," Momar said. "She did not show any interest in me, if I could remember, on that day."
"Well! what can I tell you? I know she is always asking me about you," Mawdo said. "I think she has developed an interest in you."
"She never gave me any hint on that day," Momar said. " I don't believe you."
"You can believe me or not," Mawdo said. "I think we have here a case of love at first sight."
It was not until Pateh, a classmate who was staying with Momar, asked him to go out on a double date, did Momar meet Jainaba again for the second time. Pateh was of medium height, dark-skinned and with a very big head. He was a very brilliant student and had just completed the sixth form at the Gambia High school. Pateh and Momar were classmates at the St. Augustine's high school. Since he lost his father at the start of his high school education, and his mother had gone back to live in the provinces, Pateh had been living in and out with relatives in Banjul. After he had completed the sixth form, Momar had invited Pateh to come and stay with him.
Pateh had arranged an outing with Bintou, who was his classmate at the sixth form. He had also convinced her to bring along her cousin, Jainaba, who Pateh was secretly in love with and had met on several ocassions at Bintou's compound in Banjul. Pateh had also asked Momar to join him, so that he could be a partner for Bintou while he tried to court Jainaba. He asked Momar to meet him at the Cafe Texaco around 10 p.m. When Momar closed from work that evening he went straight to their rendezvous. Pateh had gone to see a movie at the Banjul Cinemas and would meet him at the Cafe Texaco after the movie.
Momar had finished two bottles of Heineken's beer, when he saw Pateh walked into the Cafe Texaco. He had two beautiful young women walking behind him. He spotted Momar and came over to where he was sitting. Momar rose from his seat and cordially shook the hands of the women. He then pulled their chairs outward so that they could easily get into their seats. He started a conversation with them while Pateh went to the bar to buy drinks. There was a soothing Bob Marley song, Three Little Birds, that was playing in the background. The weather was mild, with a light wind that blew from the Atlantic Ocean, right behind the Cafe Texaco. The women were dressed in stretched jeans that tightly fitted to their slim bodies. Their luscious lips painted red.
Momar knew Bintou before as Pateh's classmate from the sixth form. He was meeting Jainaba again for the second time, after their chance meeting at the Cafe Texaco about a month ago. He immdeiately recalled what his friend Mawdo told him about her. As the night progressed, and they were now getting tipsy, Pateh asked Momar:
"When are we heading to the clubs?"
"We could leave after mid-night," Momar replied.
"Are you ladies ready for a big party," Pateh teased the girls.
"Why not?" Bintou asked. "We have to enjoy our youth while it lasts." She was the more outspoken one.
"What are you doing since you completed the sixth form?" Momar asked Bintou.
"I am working part-time at the Banjul pharmacy. I am waiting, hopefully, to get a scholarship to continue my education abroad," Bintou replied.
Jainaba remained quiet. She had also just completed her seconday education at the Latrikunda Secondary school.
"How about you, Jainaba?" Momar asked.
"I work as a secretary at my father's construction company. We make metal door frames and windows, as well as wooden doors. We also sell house furnitures," Jainaba said.
Momar was slightly drunk when their little group left the Cafe Texaco after mid-night. They boarded a taxi outside. The cassette player in the car was blasting the latest music hits. Knowing some of the words in the songs, Bintou sang along. Jainaba was slumped in the back of the car enjoying the ride.
The group arrived at the Bellingo Night club. It was situated inside the Tropic Garden's hotel. They were hardly seated at their table, when Jainaba asked Momar for a dance. Both Pateh and Bintou were stunned.
"Would you mind dancing with me, please?" Jainaba asked Momar.
"Sure. Sure. Why not?" Momar replied.
"Let's us go to the dance floor then," Jainaba prodded Momar. She held him by the hand and dragged him to the dance floor.
The reocrd ended. Momar staggered to go back to his seat, but Jainaba gently pulled him over to her. She asked teasingly:
"Can we dance again?"
The record ended. She still asked him to dance again for the third time. When that record finally ended, she asked:
"Can we go and sit outside?"
They sat by the pool. The moon radiated its brightness over them. A light wind blew and caressed their faces.
"Why do we have to sit here while the others are inside?" Momar asked her. "They might be wondering about us."
"I like to sit her," Jainaba replied. "It is very hot inside. Look! The stairs over there where do they lead to?"
"They go down to the beach," Momar replied.
"Shall we go down to the beach?" Jainaba carelessly implored.
"Oh! Sure," Momar countered.
Momar got up from the edge of the pool, and drunkenly led Jainaba down the cement stairs. The slabs of concrete that formed the stairs meandered like a creeping plant, and descended into the chiseled rock dug all the way to the bottom of the beach. The view of the hotel appeared lost to them from below. The sandy beach was just a couple of steps away. The stood at a corner of the bottom stairs. They hungrily stared at each other. For a minute the world was lost to them, and there was this sudden eruption of their rapturous desires.
"Why are we here?" Momar asked, as if he did not know the answer.
"Why are we here?" Jainaba asked, laughing mockingly.
They stood like fine pieces of mahogany looking at each other without saying a word. All of a sudden they found themselves in each others arms. They hugged and they kissed. Momar opened his mouth and greedily received Jainaba's tongue, as she explored deep into his mouth. They caressed each other. They aggressively fondled each other. They were both breathing very heavily. Momar pushed her gently away.
"We have to go. The others may get worried about us," Momar said.
"We can stay here a little bit longer," Jainaba replied.
Momar started to feel the pangs of guilt. How could he look at Pateh in the eyes? He had gone too far with Jainaba. When they came up their stairs and approached their table, both Pateh and Bintou simultaneously stood up.
"I want to get out of here," Bintou said, harshly. She was mad as hell with Jainaba. She looked foolish and felt betrayed. All she wanted more than anything else was to go home immediately.
"You people dont have to worry about me," Bintou said. "I will get a cab outside to take me home." She stormed out of the nightclub seething with rage. |
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kayjatta
2978 Posts |
Posted - 08 Apr 2009 : 09:51:49
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Rene is a great story teller. He exhibits great familiarity with the social and cultural terrain of Banjul, "Half Die". It appears that the author spent a good deal of his early life in the capital. I did too since eleven years old, although I spent much of my time between the National Library, playing "post mu ndaw" and stealing coco nuts from Mile Two until my dad took me out of there to Serekunda. I guess I was part of Mark Twain's Tom Sawyers of Tobacco Road then ...
The social life of the young men and women in the story illustrates the romanticism characteristic of youth. The conflicts between instinctive adolescent desires, betrayal and guilt will define and redfine the relationship among this group-Momar, Pateh, Jainaba, and Bintou; and by doing so the dynamics of the story...
Thanks Rene. |
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sankalanka
270 Posts |
Posted - 09 Apr 2009 : 13:03:46
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Kay, once again thanks for the commentaries. It will help me a great deal when I come to rewrite the story. The story in this instance have not been read, save for one or two people, and by sharing these excerpts your comments and that of others can help me to improve its shortcomings. Thank you.
The village arena was a wide expanse of sandy soil as exhausted as the dry harmattan wind. It was almost the size of a football field. It was the place where the village's social and cultural activties took place, besides the bantaba.
The village was an isolated hamlet of mud houses, and scanty corrugated iron roofs that glistened in the piercing sun like a glittering cutlass. However, within a decade after Momar's family had moved to the village from Banjul, Jeshwangkoto, had transformed from a detached, sparsely populated village of mud houses, to one that witnessed the forceful intrusion of modernity. As if a giant monster had trampled through the village, the mud houses were crushed back into the dust from where they came. The thatched mud houses were replaced by cement blocks and corrugated iron sheets. The proximity of the village to Banjul and Serrekunda, and to the other major surrounding towns, accentuated the rapid growth of the village, like the burning of dry grass in the hot sun.
On this burning July evening, a fire of excitement engulfed the village, as the arena started to teem with people. Men, women and children clad in light outfits to beat the fiery temperature, darted to the arena like ants marching majestically to defend their colony. The arena was the staged for the much talked-about event in the village. There was a wrestling contest between two selected youth groups, recruited from the most robust and athletic-looking young men in the village. The starry moonlit night punctuated the cheerful and joyful laughter of the people.
It was not quite often that the village organized wrestling matches. Moreover, Jeshwangkoto was a very remote village, and had a very gloomy surrounding. Most of the villagers went to bed long before mid-night. Only those who found solace in the eerie darkness, walked the dusty and sandy streets to carry out their nightly errands. The cuddling and groping figures in the shadows lurked behind trees and tall grasses, told the many amorous encounters that bare the secrets of the dark nights.
During this time, as it was in the height of the rainy season, the tall and throny grasses adorned every scrap of land; except, of course, the narrow streets and paths that were constantly trodden upon. The narrow streets and paths became as barren as the shinning bald on a person's head. During this time at the peak of the rainy season, the mosquitoes and mbotubutu, those tiny insects that forayed into the hair and nostrils, became a painful discomfort to the hapless villagers who smoked them out.
As the moon radiated its brightness over the murky village, on this burning July evening, all the villagers came out to celebrate like vultures hovering over a rotting carcass. The village was suddenly enveloped in smoke, as people burn brushes of wood and wet grass everywhere to ward off the mbotubutu, the small pestering insects. The moonlit night was always a happy occasion in the village, and was anticipated as eagerly as a groom waiting for his bride on the night of their marriage.
The drummers accompanied the wrestlers as they danced around the arena. The atmosphere was festive, and the communal spirit that befogged the air rejuvenating. The wrestling contest was oragnized by the youth organization that was formed by Momar, as part of the social events that seek to uplift the dull life in the village. The youth organization energized the youths to actively particpate in the development and community oriented programs of the village.
The wrestlers were now seated on opposite sides of the arena. Kawsu, the most athletic looking of the wrestlers sprinted to the lead drummer, jumped off the ground and shook his head. He lifted his right foot and then the left one, he swung his whole body sideways and danced to his opponent's corner. The lead drummer followed behind frantically beating his drum. The crowd was euphoric. Kawsu danced up to where Laloh sat and pointed at him with his two index fingers.
Laloh got up and also pointed at Kawsu with his two index fingers. Kawsu ran back to his corner, sprinkled the water on the large basin all over his body, rubbed the red dust on his body and ran to the center of the arena where he stood waiting to engage Laloh. Laloh took his time rubbing different kinds of liquid in opaque bottles all over his body, wrung his hands together in prayer and danced to the center of the arena to meet his opponent. The crowd was ecstatic. This was the highlight of the evening. These were the two best wrestlers in the village. When they danced around the arena they flexed their muscles. When they danced around the arena they taunted the crowd with their gimmicks.
Kawsu and Laloh stood looking at each other. They studied each other. They bent their heads against each other, their hands freely dangling on their sides. They attempted to hold each other's arms; they attempted to hold each other's legs, and both expertly wriggled themselves free. Kawsu then ran to his corner, vigorously dance to the lead drummer's beating, sprinkled water all over his body, rubbed the dust all over his body and then ran back to continue the wrestling.
While Kawsu was putting up all that show, Laloh patiently waited for him to come back. He rubbed both his hands with the dust, bent his head against Kawsu's and aggressively tried to lock him in. They interlocked. They moved in circles. They moved backwards and forwards. Kawsu tried to free himself, but Laloh's grip was firm. Laloh heaved his chest forward, held Kawsu firmly by his nkemba, his wrestling outfit, and drew him closer to him. He locked his right leg into Kawsu's left leg and attempted to summersault with him, but Kawsu managed to free his left leg. They went back to their original postures; heads against each other's, and hands freely dangling on their sides. Kawsu grabbed Laloh's leg but he kicked outward and got the leg free. Laloh heaved his chest forward, and firmly grasped Kawsu and drew him closer against his chest, and without respite bent his whole body sideways as he sent Kawsu crashing down on his back. Some of the spectators ran to center of the arena and danced around Laloh.
The reception was rapturous. The drummers were beating their drums with gusto. The crowd went wild with excitement, and Laloh was hoisted on somebody's shoulders as they joyfully danced around the arena. After a few moments of intense drumming and dancing, the crowd heartily started to disperse from the arena. |
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kaanibaa
United Kingdom
1169 Posts |
Posted - 09 Apr 2009 : 22:32:53
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| This mr man shows you are one great master, the way you narrate events is so entralling ,please do not stop, I do enjoy your writings.Thanks again |
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sankalanka
270 Posts |
Posted - 12 Apr 2009 : 19:31:53
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The afternoon was very pleasant and less humid. The Banjul sun was not cruel. There was a mild wind that blew from the Atlantic Ocean less than a mile away.
Omadi leaned against the railings of the second floor of the school building, and looked out towards the courtyard. There was a luncheon sale and raffle being held at the St. Augustine's high school. From his vantage point, Momar could see all the people coming into the school courtyard.
He was mesmerized when he saw her. She was tall and her skin was the color of diluted palm oil. Her knock-kneed, long shapely legs were revealed with the dress she wore that fell above her knees. Her hair was long, black and curly and rested supinely just over her neck. Her face was round and smooth and radiated an angelic look that seemed out of the ordinary. She glittered in that less expensive fabric that she wore, and was naturally poised. She looked like a flower so enchanting, a flower that attracted the lustful eyes of Momar.
She was in the company of Sayerr whom Momar knew very well. Momar ran down the stairs and breathlessly walked towards them. He greeted his friend, Sayerr, rather sheepishly and asked:
"Who is this girl, Sayerr?"
"Oh! This is my sister, Neneh," Sayerr said, laughing.
"I never knew you have a sister this big," Momar said.
"I don't know how you could have missed her. She is always in the compound when you come to visit me," Sayerr replied.
"I know all your other sisters, but not her," Momar said. "Where were you hiding her?"
"I know," Sayerr said. "Neneh is a very quiet person and inconspicious. May be that is why you didn't noticed her before."
Momar stayed very close to Sayerr afterwards, and used every opportunity he had to talk to Neneh. He patronized Sayerr by buying for him beer upon beer, from the food and beverage stand that was in the middle of the courtyard. Neneh had declined, either out of embarrasment or a sense of pride, all the offers to buy drinks or food that Momar made to her. When Momar realized that Neneh did not welcome his advances, he bid farewell to Sayerr and left their company. He went around looking for more exciting encounters.
But that evening the thought of Neneh lingered on Momar's mind. Had he found the woman of his dreams? He had decided not to date another woman he had not intended to marry. After the abortion scenario he had gone through with Jainaba, Momar wanted to avoid the unsavory situation of having a child with a woman he would not marry.
As a young boy Momar had gone to Neneh's compound constantly on errands. At this time Neneh was just a very little girl. Their families shared the same street in Banjul separated only by two compounds. Momar could not count the many times he had walked barefooted, as a young boy, into Neneh's compund and went behind her grandmother's house. The slanted house with the gaping holes covered with old clothes, from where the cement plastered Keringting walls had fallen. There was a pigeon cage behind the house that was owned by her older brother. Momar had developed a keen interest watching and feeding the pigeons in their cage.
Neneh had now blossomed into a very beautiful young woman, and had suddenly caught the attention of Momar. He had never noticed her before with all his frequent visits to her compound. She was gracious and very pretty. Momar decided to act fast before other suitors snatched her away from him.
Shrotly after the Lucheon sale and raffle from the St. Augustine's high school, Momar confided with Sayerr his desire to have his sister as a wife.
"This is not a joke, Sayerr," Momar told Sayerr. " I have fallen head over heels with your sister. I really do want her to be my wife."
"Well! if you are that serious, I will help you," Sayerr said. "I will talk to her and also my mother."
"I am definitely serious," Momar said. "I will really appreciate that."
Sayerr was enthused by the idea of Momar marrying his sister, and he later discussed the proposal with his mother. His mother, Yai-Olley, supported the idea, for she knew Momar very well since he was a child, and knew him to grow up as a very good young man. The rest of the family also supported the proposal, although Neneh's father had preferred to marry his daughter to a prominent middle-aged gentleman, who was the boss at a groundnut marketing company where he worked. Sayerr had arranged for Momar to talk privately with Neneh in his house.
"I am looking for a wife," Momar told Neneh. "And I want you to be my wife."
Momar looked directly into Neneh's eyes. She was shy to talk and wouldn't look at him in the eye. After a little effort in which he put her at ease, Neneh began to open up to him.
"You may not have realized it," Neneh said softly, "but I have fallen in love with you for a long time now. I always look forward to seeing you walk into our compound, although you never look at me. You are smart, always well dressed and good mannered."
"Well! I am glad that you pointed out that to me," Momar said. "It makes it less difficult for me to convince you that I am a good man."
"I have plans to go abroad in pursuit of a higher education," Momar told Neneh. "I want us to get married before I leave. You can later come and join me."
"That is fine with me," Neneh said. "I can wait for you until you are ready for me to join you."
Neneh had just completed her secondary education at the St. Agustine's secondary school in Banjul, when she started to date with Momar. She had never been in any relationship before. The first time Momar took her out on a date, and tried to kiss her while they sat at the back of the taxi, she pulled back as swiftly as a lightening and had moved almost to the edge of the car seat. This was the first time a man had tried to kiss her.
As Momar see more and more of Neneh, they became more intimate and friendly. He took her to the movies every Friday, and they went to the clubs every saturday. On Sundays they took a walk in the beach at the Fajara hotel; they lazily lie on their backs on the beach while the sands of time sluggishly passed by. Momar lavished her with gifts.
Three months into their relationship, Neneh came for the first time to visit Momar at his house. She found another woman in the house. That incident almost ended their courtship there and then.
"I am sorry, Neneh, but this woman is not my girlfriend," Momar pleaded with her.
"Do you think I am stupid?" Neneh was furious. "If she is not your girlfriend what is she doing here? You either asked her to leave or I will leave." |
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