“Could … could you explain a little more about that saying?” Bajeri looks to Joniza. She gives a go ahead nod. “I already know,” I chime in. “Joniza told me after a bottle of wine.” Bajeri lets out a belly laugh as Joniza swats my arm. Then he puts a hand on Emeric’s shoulder, his face turning deadly serious. “Young man,” he intones, “it means, ‘When you want white people to stop arguing with you, make up a proverb.’” He gives Emeric a little shake and lets go, his agbada swishing as he heads for the door. “We will leave at nine sharp.” “Not eight?” I ask. “That proctor woman knows if she
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