So here's a quick update to provide concrete evidence that my father has indeed arrived. I always eat yam pillet, or pounded yam, at the same woman's stall for lunch on the way back from school. Her neighbor usually places this darling child in my arms, always exclaiming that she is so happy to have me as a future son-in-law. Of course, she is implying that this newborn will someday be my wife. In Africa, in fact, she could be my wife within the decade. However, I always tell her that we need to go out on a couple dates first, in order to get to know each other.
Don't worry, Mom, the dates won't actually occur...
But you can find solace in the fact that my father has encased his future daughter-in-law in his protective embrace - the same embrace in which he, in turn, is held by the villagers of Kemon.
No, I cannot remember the little girl's name. It might be Candice. I don't know.
And my father has already received a local Yoruba name. Its pronounced "Ah-kay-bee," and it means that he is the good father of many. Mine is Arremoo (roll the R), and it's the name given to the future successor of the king. Since my village does, indeed, have a king, this name still has relevance in Yorubaland.
I think Ahkaybee also means "he who twirls the cinnamon stick".
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