“Banji,” Kambirinachi said from where she was already perched on the bed. “Mm-hmm?” he responded, avoiding her gaze. “What music do they have?” she asked. “Erm …” He fingered the collection of cassette tapes and vinyl records. “Bob Marley, Manu Dibango, Angélique Kidjo, Ebenezer Obey, King Sunny Adé, Stevie Wonder … there’s plenty.” “How about Manu Dibango?” Banji pulled out the record Soul Makossa, placed it gingerly on the dusty turntable, and dropped the needle.
