THE THIRD WOMAN
The third lady is not only slender but is also a combination of many admirable traits. When I needed some Moringa leaves, she knew exactly where to go and get them. When I needed some Alovera plants, she took me to a nearby property and helped me select and take as many as I wanted. She is also a seamstress. On many occasions, I have taken different clothing items to her for repair. I also take various materials to her home for her to make pillows and their plastic enclosures. I have never asked her to place a price on the work she does for me. I invariably pay her the appropriate amount, and she is always grateful. She has previously worked in my apartment, and her work has always been meticulous and outstanding. There is a Well located on her property, along with a large polytank, into which the water from the well is pumped and stored during the months of severe heat and consequent drought. Many of the residents from the Sofokyere area make their way to her property carrying bowls and buckets to purchase water. An annual but imperative exercise in this part of The Brong Ahafo Region of Ghana.
She is around 34 and has a beautiful six-year-old daughter from a previous relationship. She is devoted to her child, and many mornings, while I’m returning from my early morning walk, I meet them both as she escorts her daughter to a nearby elementary school. Last year, I attempted to climb up and position myself on one of my neighbors’ walls. Intending to cut and help myself to some twigs loaded with scores of Moringa leaves. Unfortunately, I fell and struck my head on the ground without sustaining any injury. Just then, two women turned the corner and saw what had transpired. One of them was my friend’s mother, and she called out, “Jane, are you going to allow Mr. James to kill himself in the process of obtaining a few twigs of Moringa?” Upon hearing the urgency in her mother’s voice, my friend ran through her large iron gates, wielding a sharp machete. She used it to chop off one of the small branches of my neighbor’s Moringa tree and turn it over to me. At the same time, hearing that I was in some kind of danger, her daughter quickly came through the gates with her mother and embraced me.
Whenever I visit the large, overpopulated, dusty City of Accra, I purchase chocolate bars for her daughter. This metropolis is always a challenge because of severe traffic congestion, poor hygienic conditions, and piles of rubbish in some of the most inconvenient places. Nevertheless, the big hug I received from her daughter upon the presentation of the chocolate bar was a sufficient reward for me. She never takes the bar from me in a courteous manner. However, typical of children in her age group, she grabs the bar from my hand as quickly as possible and buries it in some of her clothing. Although I understand this age group’s behavior, her mother is not impressed with her actions and scolds her. Jane is gifted with many talents, including the ability to iron all kinds of clothes professionally and clean bathrooms efficiently and spotlessly. The art of cooking chicken is a skill she has yet to acquire. I asked her to cook some for me several months ago. I believed that since she was good at so many other things. Simply cooking chicken deliciously would be a piece of cake for her. I was completely wrong. She cooked the chicken, but the end result was a disaster. Because the chicken was fried so crisp that I couldn’t eat it. I requested Jane to take all of the chicken home with her.
It’s difficult for me to classify Jane as a simpleton, but I have no other choice. Her mastery of most domestic skills is beyond question. There are certain challenges, however, that she just cannot deal with rationally. For example, she doesn’t understand that when she has a cold, she shouldn’t prepare any food for other people to eat. She made that mistake with me, and consequently, I was down with a very bad cold for two weeks. Certain problems are insoluble to her. I have a bag I generally take wherever I’m going. It has a large tear in the side. I know she is a seamstress, and I thought she would be the best person to help with the needed repairs. I presented the bag to her because I had a very good idea of just what needed to be done.
All she needed to do was exercise some creativity and innovation. A small challenge that she refused to face. She responded, “Mr. James, I can’t do it, I can’t do it.” Is it possible that she would be incapable of inventiveness and ingenuity? Whenever I go abroad, I leave her in charge of my apartment. I trust her that much. When I returned from the USA during the first week of November 2023, I commenced opening the lock on the back gate; although it was two hours before daybreak, she knew it was me, and she was here and wide awake.