Ami

Ami was born into a small river-focused band in the Volta Basin savanna, where families moved between gallery forest camps and open grassland edges as water and game shifted with the season. Older hunters argued over meat shares, and older women decided where to sleep and when to leave. The band treated the river and certain old trees as places where ancestors watched. Noma’s mother, Ena, kept a small bundle of river shells and red ochre for offerings.

Noma already had a daughter, Sal, a child who stayed close to the cooking fires and copied the women as they split reeds and scraped hides. Noma and Korin no longer lived as a pair. Korin visited camp, spoke little to Noma, and left again with other men to follow grazers along the drier ridges. Noma carried the work alone and leaned on Ena and on her own sister Bira for help with water and fuel.

Ami came early. She fit in one forearm, and Noma kept her tucked under a skin wrap against her chest while she gathered tubers from damp ground near the river and waded into the shallows to spear fish. Nights were cool in the dry season. Ena built the fire high and close and kept coals alive until morning.

Ami failed to gain weight. She did not feed steadily, and her skin stayed cool even when Noma held her tight. In the cold months before the next rains, Ami died in the sleeping shelter before dawn.

Noma, Ena, and Bira carried the small body to a sandy rise above the floodplain. They dug a shallow pit with digging sticks, laid Ami wrapped in soft hide, and dusted her with red ochre. Noma placed a few river shells on the grave before they filled it in.