I walked down the passage and stood in front of my parent’s bedroom. The door had been shut as if one had been forbidden to enter. Even my mother had not slept there since my father’s death. I unlocked it and crept in. Amidst the darkness of the room, this once familiar place felt foreign. The scent of my father’s cologne settled in my nose, but I did not move. I stood in the centre and my eyes moved from the mahogany dresser to the wardrobe that held his clothes, and then to the king bed and my father’s favourite pillow. Resting on the dresser was his Eagle Marine Fleet identification card, his wallet and key chains. I recalled the last thing that my father said to me. But he was never coming home. I had to go on with life and do as I had promised him. I closed my eyes and remembered all of us sitting on this bed as my father unpacked his luggage after being at sea.

I walked out of my parents’ room, charged. My mother was asleep and did not notice when I sneaked out the back door, escaping into the darkness with my kite secured under my arm.

At first, my legs felt stiff from a nervousness that had plagued me from the very first day my father was admitted to Maitama hospital. Nevertheless, my eyes were set on the night and I kept my pace, albeit stumbling the way Abena had when she was learning to walk. The festival had long paraded the streets of Winneba Bay, leaving its celebratory trail of confetti and empty bottles alongside foil wrappings from ice cream and candy wraps that caused the pavement to glisten. I heard the thundering waves of Labadi Beach and followed the sounds until my feet felt the cold sand. The beach was empty, and the stalls stood lonely, but the night sky glowed as if there was an audience above watching the festival. The waves gave a loud bang as they hit the shore and retracted into the ocean, I tasted the moist, salty sea in the air, and let the wind brush my face as I inhaled and let go. When I untied the strings of my kite, it rose slowly upwards into the air. I steered it in the northern direction, following the wind, and ran into the oncoming waves. As the water retreated, I let the current pull me along. I no longer feared the ocean.

I continued running across the shore, letting the light in the distance guide me. The waves crashed harder and the ocean serenaded the air with its roar. My kite flew high above my head. Through the roar of it all, I heard my father’s words: Be good Champion. Be good.