The Dust of Amanful Mini Book

It was 1990 when Efua first stepped onto Amanful Road in Ketan. The earth beneath her feet was warm, reddish-brown and fractured like old pottery, dust rising gently with each step. The Atlantic breeze brushed against her skin, whispering promises she couldn’t yet understand. Newly married to Kwame Mensah, the fisherman whose laughter floated lightly across the water, Efua settled into their modest home, a small structure overlooking the ocean at the mouth of Amanful Road. The town breathed slowly back then, its heartbeat steady and predictable, its people interconnected by threads both visible and unseen. Efua walked daily, basket balanced on her hip, gathering quiet stories from each face she met.