NO VACATION

As the day concluded, the orange sun dipped, casting a warm glow as Jesse packed up, leaving a few unsold coconuts on his trolley. Purposefully, he wheeled it to a familiar store, greeted Mr. Kennedy, the storekeeper, and bid Rashima goodbye. After securing his coconuts, Jesse felt a sense of routine settling in, anticipating a well-deserved rest.

With thoughts of relaxation, he decided to give Josh a call. The day had been strangely quiet without their usual collaboration in the bustling Madina Market. Dialing Josh's number, Jesse was met with the disheartening sound of voicemail. Puzzled, he wondered about Josh's unusual silence.

Intrigued and concerned, Jesse made his way to Josh's coffee-selling spot, near the police building. The journey via a commercial vehicle revealed an increased police presence along the roads, adding an air of tension to the atmosphere. Arriving at the spot, he was met with an unsettling emptiness, a stark contrast to the usual activity.

As he approached, a stout, short, dark police officer wearing spectacles questioned him about his destination. "I'm looking for a friend who sells coffee here," Jesse replied

"Oh, Nana Kwame?" another police officer interjected when he heard what Jesse said to the first police.

"No, his name is Josh, and he just started," Jesse clarified.

The first police officer, seemingly more informed, answered harshly, "he retired a long time ago. Leave now."

Jesse, a mix of confusion and concern clouding his thoughts, nodded reluctantly. The stern demeanour of the police officers and the heavy security presence reinforced the gravity of the situation. As he retraced his steps, memories of Josh's earlier warning about an incident involving an officer or someone being murdered in the vicinity echoed in his mind.

As the clock struck 7, Jesse, on his way home, decided to treat himself and his mother to some Kelewele. He also bought two sachets of Cerelac for baby Ama. He embraced Baby Ama the momenthe opened the door who in returned giggled, he greeted his mother, Maame U, upon entering their home.

"Good evening, Ma," Jesse greeted, gently laying Ama on the mattress beside his own. "Did you buy something for her? She's been sucking my breast; it pains now," Maame U complained.

Chuckling, Jesse reassured her, "Don't worry; I got her Cerelac and Kelewele for you."

"Did you eat in the afternoon, Ma?" Jesse asked as he handed the Kelewele to his mum.

"Yes, I bought ripe plantains and beans with the money you left. Bodiwaa came for a visit, so I bought some for her, and because..."

"Ma, I know where you're getting at. You mean the money I left is finished, right?" Jesse interjected.

"Ah, well, it's good you know now," Maame U laughed nervously. "Mmm," Jesse sighed as he started to mix the Cerelac with water in the cereal bowl to feed the baby. Though they weren't financially stable, Jesse ensured everyone had food, thanks to his small coconut business.

"Hey, stop that and open your mouth wide," Jesse said to Ama, who showed signs of reluctance to eat. "Slow down, Jesse; else she will vomit if you force her," Maame U advised.

"Whatever. Ma, did Josh come here today?" Jesse asked after feeding the last bit to the baby.

"No, why weren't you together?" his mum inquired.

"No, he didn't come to the market today."

"Oh, then maybe he went to his grandma or..."

"I don't know, Ma. I'm tired; I want to sleep now, so take Ama," Jesse said.

"What, won't you bathe and let her sleep before you sleep? I'm tired too," Maame U retorted.

"What, Ma? What did you do? You did nothing, Ma," Jesse countered.

"No, I babysat your sister and had a lot of conversation with Boadiwaa today," Maame U stood her ground.

"What!" Jesse exclaimed.

"Yes, so let her sleep before you sleep. Did you hear that Rexford Osei is dead?" Maame U asked as she lay down on her mattress beside Jesse.

"Who's he?" Jesse asked as he started to rock the baby.

"He's the regional police officer of Accra. I heard the IGP even came there today," Maame U said.

"Oh, Josh told me something like that. No wonder the police were standing along the roads today," Jesse added.

In a residential area in Kumasi, a dark, handsome man in his early-30s stood alongside a younger man in his mid 20s. They occupied an air-conditioned office adorned with modern furniture, lacking the usual clutter of paperwork on the table. The younger man was in the process of packing his belongings, while the dark, handsome man, holding a glass of wine, engaged in a phone call near the window, observing the outside world.

"Yaw, it's late; you must go," the dark, handsome man declared after concluding his call. Turning around, he noticed Yaw was already preparing to depart. "Oh, you're already packing. Who gave you permission to leave?" he inquired, raising an eyebrow.

Yaw stood there, confused, as he gazed at his mentor. "You can leave," the dark, handsome man chuckled, noting Yaw's expression.

"Alright, sir," Yaw responded, shouldering his bag. As he turned to leave, he glanced back at the dark, handsome man, recalling something. "Erm, sir," Yaw addressed him, prompting a curious look from the man.

"Officer Roland mentioned that the Criminal Investigation Department from Accra called regarding the murder case of the Regional Police Officer of Accra. They've hired you, and he's booked a flight for us on Thursday," Yaw informed.

"Oh, okay. So they chose to involve me just when I decided to go on vacation to Dubai," the dark, handsome man lamented, slapping his forehead. He looked up at Yaw and nodded. "Bye, sir."