Last night, I forgot who I was. Go to sleep
boy, we will have fried bananas in the morning,
says my mother. She once forgot
who she was, but now remembers
not to care. Go to sleep girl, we will have fried
bananas in the morning, said my grandmother to her.
She too had once forgotten, but is content
with frying bananas. But once, her mother's mother's
father, too, almost forgot who he was. But not quite.
Goodnight Pikin, he said: “Tomorrow, we have plantains.”