Unintentionally I had removed the veil from her face and my sisters were shocked to the marrow that the omu tuo and “T.Z” (Tuo Zaafi) expert who had steered their culinary affairs was a police sergeant and she had heard everything.

She had shouted my holy name and commanded me to proceed immediately. What was I going to say to defend myself?

“I need to go to the bath room. Can I get something to cover myself?” Gladys asked me when I entered.

“Why not? With four women in the house why won’t you get a piece of cloth to cover yourself to go to the bath room?”

“I don’t want anything from any of them,” she said.

“Well, no problem. I hurried to the wardrobe where I had miscellaneous articles of wear including pyjamas, morning gowns and overcoats which I brought down from the Far Away City. I didn’t send them to Abena Kwabena’s abode because she would have set them ablaze. Why? She would think that they would remind me of Priscilla.

The police woman took an over coat and asked me to close my eyes.

“Why?” I asked.

“I’m disrobing” she said

“I don’t mind,” I replied.

“But I do mind!” she said curtly.

I wanted to tell her that she should know that she wasn’t speaking to her juniors at the barracks, that she was speaking to Baafuor of the Holy Village but I didn’t because of what I thought was in store for me – the disclosure of her identity to my sisters.

Instead of just closing my eyes, I covered my face with my open palms and watched her as she removed her clothes. It was a sort of close circuit and I enjoyed it.

Why was I enjoying it? Because she was busying about nothing.

How often had I not seen her stark naked in the broad day light and also at nights under the glare of fluorescent light. She was behaving like the thief who hid under his victim’s bed but exposed his feet outside.

When she entered the bathroom I quickly went to my sisters that it appeared she didn’t hear what we said about her so they should be forewarned none of them referred to her as Auntie Gladys or Sergeant Gladys. She should be addressed just Habiba or Auntie Habiba. The women were quite relieved that she didn’t hear what went on between us.

I went back to my room and waited for Gladys. I was still unsure that she didn’t hear what had gone on between me and my sisters concerning her so I tried to build up defence that resembled truth.

When she came back she told me she had expected that I would have left the room for her to dress up before coming in.

“I will close my eyes. I know what to do,” I replied. After all it is a matter of “AKWAS KO NSO NA OGYINA NKWANTIA”.

“What does that mean?” She wanted to know the meaning.

“It is an expression which means doing something you know you should without waiting to be told.” I lied.

“Are you sure, Baafuor? I’ll find out. Repeat it.”

“I’ll rather write it for you…later,” I said

She eased away the morning gown and turned round to reach for her pants. She turned herself here and there, looking for it. I saw where it was lying so I said “there it is.”

“But you are supposed to have closed your eyes!” She shouted at me.

“Why didn’t you blindfold me? That would have solved your problem.”

Now, instead of reaching for the pants, she rather covered her breasts with her hands and asked me to pick it for her. And when she had worn it she turned her back to me and asked me to clasp her brassiere for her.

When she wore her pair of trousers and slipped on a very roomy interlock, she looked angelic.