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ABOUT THE AUTHOR RUSSELL TOFTS

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"Kenkay & Colobus: a tourist in Ghana"  by Russell Tofts

Russell Tofts had never been any further than Amsterdam when he decided to fulfill a childhood dream by exploring the African bush in search of wildlife. Having suffered from chronic shyness, not to mention asthma, all his life, he is daunted by the prospect of traveling alone, and so he approaches the media to help him find a traveling companion, someone to share the burden of the trip – male or female (‘but preferably female’). When no one is forthcoming, he is forced to undertake the journey alone. Before the trip, he prepares himself psychologically for the challenge of exploring the African jungle by wandering round an English wood at the dead of night – an unnerving experience he would not want to repeat. And then it is off to Africa. But the question remains: just how approachable will the animals be?

russell_tofts@btinternet.com

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An Extract from ‘Kenkay & Colobus: a Tourist in Ghana"

‘As I swept through the middle of town, I passed a funeral cortege. It was a boisterous affair, in contrast to the solemnity of a British occasion, with none of the weeping and mourning I was used to. The light-coloured coffin was parked outside a row of ramshackle shops in what one must – with a great deal of poetic license – call the high street. The party was in full swing. The relatives of the dear departed were jostling round the coffin, singing raucous songs at the tops of their voices whilst simultaneously banging as hard as they could on the coffin lid with the flats of their hands, presumably in the hope that this might goad the occupant into joining in. I think they felt he was taking too passive a part in the celebrations. The party had, after all, been organised for his benefit, as it were, and the least he could do was join in with the chorus. This, you felt, was the way to go. An alfresco wake. No tears, no wailing or ill-suppressed lamentations of grief from the bereaved relatives, no prolonged sermons from the pulpit, just a lively rock number to alert St Peter that you are on your way.’

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