Chapter 4 THE RETURN OF T.T. THE TRICKSTER

Just when the chaos was beginning to settle, a new figure strolled into Sikakrom wearing sunshades, a blue kaftan two sizes too big, and slippers that flapped like a tired flag.

It was T.T. the Trickster, real name Tetteh Tinkorang, the only man to have sold a mango tree to three different people and disappeared before they realised it had never borne fruit.

"T.T.! Ei, you're back?" Auntie Akos shrieked, half-happy, half ready to hide her wallet.

"Yes oo, the spirit led me home," he said, with a grin that meant trouble.

T.T. wasted no time. He set up a stand outside the market square with a hand-painted sign: 'Snail Interpreter Bring Yours to Hear Its Secrets!'

"Only 2 cedis per snail," he declared.

Madness doubled. Children brought every snail they could find. Auntie Mansa came with a bowl of escargots soaked in salt.

"This one said I should stop gossiping," she reported.

"Then stop, na you talk too much," Auntie Akos replied.

Soon, even the elders started visiting T.T. He would press his ear to a snail shell, nod seriously, and say things like:

"It says your goats are plotting to run away."

"It says you should bathe before market days."

"It says your neighbor is jealous of your cassava farm."

People began fighting. Accusations flew. And business boomed.

Meanwhile, T.T. was collecting snails like a museum curator. No one noticed that he only returned the same few shells regardless of what was brought.

By the end of the week, someone painted a new slogan under the church snail: "Only those with clean hearts hear the snail clearly."

And as T.T. counted his coins, he whispered, "Ah, Sikakrom. You never disappoint."