Nku was in the kitchen, piling out bottles of champagne and microwaving the fried laps of guinea fowl when Sen. Madu shuffled through the door.

“Yes, Nk, oh, forget about the champagne,” he protested, rubbing his palms together. “Let’s do it local this time around. You see that your Green Monster juice; it hit my taste spot yesterday. I want them to have a taste of it.”

Nk shook his head “Ok, sir.”

Sen. Madu grinned briefly. “Em, Nk, whenever my wife isn’t around. You can call me baby. I mean it doesn’t take you nine months pregnancy to learn that,” he said and Nku shook his head. “Now as...