“Chale, I swear, if you can pull it off,” Kofi says with a side smile, “then kudos to you. And who knows, maybe someone will talk about you too one day. You know, as part of history.” I stop my sweeping, stand myself up to his level, and look him in the eyes. “Not his-story,” I say. “My own will be called her-story. Adunni’s story.”
