The Door of No Return

by Kwame Alexander

Genres: General Fiction

Synopsis

Dreams are today’s answers for tomorrow’s questions.
 
11-year-old Kofi Offin dreams of water. Its mysterious, immersive quality. The rich, earthy scent of the current. The clearness, its urgent whisper that beckons with promises and secrets…
 
Kofi has heard the call on the banks of Upper Kwanta, in the village where he lives. He loves these things above all else: his family, the fireside tales of his father’s father, a girl named Ama, and, of course, swimming. Some say he moves like a minnow, not just an ordinary boy so he’s hoping to finally prove himself in front of Ama and his friends in a swimming contest against his older, stronger cousin.
 
But before this can take place, a festival comes to the villages of Upper and Lower Kwanta and Kofi’s brother is chosen to represent Upper Kwanta in the wrestling contest. Encircled by cheering spectators and sounding drums, the two wrestlers from different villages kneel, ready to fight. 
 
You are only fine, until you are not.
 
The match is over before it has barely begun, when the unthinkable–a sudden death–occurs…
 
The river does not care how grown you are. 

As his world turns upside down, Kofi soon ends up in a fight for his life. What happens next will send him on a harrowing journey across land and sea, and away from everything he loves.

 

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Release date: September 27, 2022

Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers

Print pages: 406

Sample

SCHOOLED

Offin, how old was

beloved Queen Victoria

when she became heir

to the throne? Mr. Goodluck Phillip, our teacher, asks,

startling me

out of my dream.

My cousin,

who thinks he is better

than me at everything,

giggles, then shoots

his hand up fast,

but Mr. Phillip is talking

to me, staring

at me, daring

me

to answer incorrectly.

I will like Kofi Offin

to answer the question, please, he says.

Dunwõtwe, I proudly answer,

standing among

my classmates, smiling

like I just bit into

the sweetest mango.

I do not see

the lightning

almost slice

the skin

from my palm,

but I do feel the scorch

of the rod

across my hand

and in my bones.

I even taste its sting

in my mouth.

Queen’s English, please, Mr. Phillip says,

as calm as rain, like

he did not just attack me

with his jagged cane.

Eighteen, I say quickly.

That is correct. The Queen was eighteen, he adds, looking at the whole class,

when her uncle died

of pneumonia,

making her the rightful heir.

I am not teaching you

to count in English for nothing.

Sorry, Mr. Goodluck Phillip, I say,

looking down at the purplish welt

burning my sable skin,

and trying not to cry

in front of everyone,

especially Ama,

and my cousin,

who now looks like

he is happily eating

my mango.

OUR TEACHER

Kwaku Ansah

was sent

many, many seasons ago

to Akra

to attend

The Queen’s Missionary School

at Osu for the Propagation

of Better Education

and Improved Language,

and when he returned

he had “improved” his name to

Goodluck Kwaku Phillip,

and insisted

to the Council of Elders

that we needed

to be propagated

as well.

ON A MISSION

Mr. Phillip seldom smiles,

is lanky and tall,

wears wire-rimmed glasses

and big-collared shirts

with strange bows

around his neck,

frowns when he speaks our Twi,

insists that we call him

by his new names,

does not like

riddles or bean stew

or most things

we are used to

in our village,

and swears

that he has been anointed

to rescue us

from our old selves

and help us discover

our true ones.

MY OLDER BROTHER

Kwasi once told me

that Mr. Phillip informed

his class that

English is regularly spoken

in Akra and on the Coast, ..