Wednesday, I join Millicent in the kitchen to help her cook. The kitchen is a small hut behind the building with the classrooms. Someone wrote with chalk „office of the food“ on a wall. Next to the hut under a corrugated iron roof is a place for the fire. A hen hatches her eggs in one corner.
While I am grounding pepper, we talk. Millicent‘s English is not the best, but mostly we understand each other.
Millicent is 28 years old, sister of five brothers and has worked in the orphanage for eight months. She plans to get back to her real work in March. Sewing. All of her possessions got destroyed in a fire. She was told to come to her father for help but when she arrived he was dead. So she prayed for help and got the work in the orphanage. She says she loves the kids, but still she wants to build up her own shop again. Small small, little by little she works for it and she prays. Her aim is to go to Kumasi. It is hot there and busy. Busy busy, lots of work, not much talking like here in Cape Coast. She is also waiting for someone who offered help. This part is more difficult to understand. If she marries him he would help her, they would work together. But there is also someone in Takoradi who offered help and she said she would wait for him. So either Takoradi or Kumasi. Yes. But would it be an option to stay at the orphanage? Yes. Sometimes I‘m not sure whether she understands my question.
Today the kids are having Banku and fish. I stir grounded cassava and water in a pot on the fire while Millicent cuts the fish. It is easy in the beginning but the batter gets thicker and thicker. We laugh because I can hardly stir so Millicent takes over. There is no question where she got her muscles from. How do you know when the Banku is ready? - One hour. - There is no watch.
