The thing I remember most about that night, is that it was perfect: it was dusk and a salty breeze had just started to chill the air. I was six and we were on vacation in Mombasa on our way to see the acrobats. A funny memory popped into my head for no apparent reason and I giggled.
“What’s so funny?” asked my mom, who was walking beside me.
So I told her the strange little story about me and the schoolteacher who lived down the hill from our house. I told her how I’d seen him in the shower, and how he told me about his private parts and asked me about mine.