There are about twelve persons living in this house. They all belong to one family - somehow. Some of them I see only now and then, when they come to collect food, mostly at dinner time. The food is prepared by the girls - Fadila, Leticia, Rakyia and Itisan. I ask what the boys do: ,They are not doing anything.‘ One of the boys waters the flowers every day, Baba. He still goes to school. I am not sure what the rest work. Abdul Manan and Ibrahim drive the car and clean it.
It is easy to see where everybody‘s position is. The boys open the door of the car for the doctor and carry his bag. Everybody bows or bends down when they greet him. Sakina, the mother shouts for the boys and the girls. The boys shout for the girls. According to their customs they are not allowed to take food out of a pot so they shout for the girls to serve them. The girls shout for Itisan. She is the youngest and has to run for everybody else. No matter what she is currently doing or whether she is sick. When other children come, they have to run, too. Fetch water or buy beans. They do it without protest.
I am the guest. I am told to sit and rest. Wherever I go someone brings something for me to sit down. When I offer my help, I get irritated looks. At least I am allowed to peel and cut yam now. However, when it comes to pounding the yam for Fufu, they say I am tired. I should sit. I get tired of sitting and want to go for a walk. The first time, they send Itisan to accompany me. I am taken for a walk. The second time I start on my own but it doesn‘t take long until they come to bring me back to the house.
Protest, answering back, ,no‘ is not accepted. If you try to refuse an offer, they don‘t understand it or seem offended. So better take what you get. You might appear to behave very rude if you don‘t.
