Mamadou, Fatou Sowe’s Musa and I are sitting around the former cooking fire (former because the cauldron of sauce has since been removed). Mamadou is pushing smoldering sticks around unnecessarily.
Me: Mamadou, stop playing with fire.
Mamadou pretends he has not heard me.
Musa: Mamadou, Binta said leave the fire.
Mamadou continues poking around.
Musa, turning to me: Heh! Mamadou will not hear what is said.
Mamadou stops poking around and joins us on the bench. He turns to face Musa and says, “You have no brain.”
Me: He has no ears and he has no brain…
Musa: I have no ears and Mamadou has no brain?
Me: No, you said Mamadou will not hear what is said, so he has no ears, and Mamadou said you have no brain.
Mamadou pulls my head close to his and whispers directly into my ear. All I hear is “Mumble mumble seller mumble.” He leans back and asks, “Did you hear?”
Me: No, I didn’t hear.
Mamadou yanks my head down again and repeats, “He is a sour-milk seller.”
Me: Heh!
Musa: What? What did he say?
Me: I dunno—I’m not telling!
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