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“I love you, but not enough to steal you from your boyfriend.”

“What if I don’t have a boyfriend?”

“I watched your last interview. You spent 5 minutes talking about him.”

“We broke up two months ago. It’s over.”

“Is there a chance of him breaking right back in?”

“There is more chance of the sun rotating around the earth.”

“Then can I ask you out for dinner? It’s not necessarily a date.”

“What if I want it to be both?”

“African restaurant?”

“Only if I’m paying?”

“Oops.  That makes it even better. You’re obviously earning more than I do.”

“I thought you would start bleating about feminist who wants to pay for their dinner?”

“If the feminist is a successful writer I have a crush on and just agreed to go on a date with me, who cares.”

“Saturday night then. Friday night is too typical.”

“If you say Sunday morning, I will skip church.”

“No! I don’t want to come between you and your God.”

“But you’ve being my god for a while.”

“Be careful. I am a writer. Anything you say can be used against you. I can mold a character after you.”

“That means I left an impression and it makes my night even better. You can go one step further and write a whole book about me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

 “It would be a bestseller. Might just win you a Nobel.”

 “Unfortunately for you, neither horror nor thriller is my thing. You would make a good psycho though.”

“Better! That means you will need more than one date to know me better. And I will be paying for the fourth.”

“What makes you so sure there will even be a second date let alone a fourth?”

“You’ve spent more time talking to me than you did to others on the queue.”

“Don’t think too highly of yourself mister.”

“I don’t have to, you already think highly of me.”

“You are something else.”

“Yeah. And it will be Nigerian jollof. It beats your Ghanaian.”

“Now you just want to ruin what hasn’t even started. Imagine the blasphemy.”

“I expected the reaction. That’s why it’s going to be a Liberian restaurant. We can know whose Jollof taste better later.”

“You are so sure of a future together…”

“Like you ain’t already dreaming of it. The strange man who is like a character from your book. Don’t worry, I have read everything you’ve published.”

“That doesn’t mean you know me.”

“Yeah. That’s why I want to start with dinner.”

“Just go please. Here is your book.”

“Can I say I love your autograph? It’s beautiful.”

“You can have the thank you you’ve been dying to hear.”

“I’m doing the wooing, not you.”

“Hahhaha! Just go. You Nigerians think too highly of yourself.”

“That’s what makes us attractive. Confidence.”

“Are you going to leave so I can attend to others or do you want me to change my mind about that dinner?”

“Like you can…”


Black and white Picture of Yaa Gyasi

Yaa Gyasi


“Oga wake up! You just dey snore anyhow.”

 “If murder isn’t a crime ehn… you just ruined a date with Yaa.”


“Gyasi, the Ghanaian chic that wrote Homecoming.”

“See what too much book have caused? Next it will be Zadie Smith or that Chimamanda.”

“Shut up jare.”

“Oya sorry, you can go back to sleep.”

“Just go. You’ve ruined it already.”

“Sorry nah…”

“Go joor! Chelsea will lose their next match I swear.”


 Because Yaa Gyasi’s Homecoming is a magical book hidden on Earth from the other realm.