Chapter 5: Cold Gifts

The new cloth wey I order for Ikenna since half month don ready. The books wey I tell bookshop owner to bring from outside town don come too—na the ones Ikenna want.

I dey happy small, say I fit surprise am. I even borrow wrapper to tie the cloth well, put am for inside small paper bag, arrange the books neat.

As I reach house, Ikenna dey as usual: sit cross-legged for chair, dey meditate. Firewood for yard don chop, vegetable wash, water for pot nearly boil.

I just dey shake my head. If na before, e no fit do anything for house. Now, e dey try. But e still dey form cold like harmattan breeze.

He collect the books, no talk, still dey act cold. But as he see the new cloth, he just frown, hiss: "E even necessary? Anything I wear, you go still comot am for night for punishment."

Na so the boy dey run mouth, but I know say deep down, e like am small. E no dey show emotion, but e dey quick eye the wrapper.

WhatsApp status dey happy:

*[Haha! The main man only send our main woman. Anything this wicked supporting character do no dey enter!]*

*[She think say gift go make main man like her? He be chief’s son o! Who go want this kind cheap thing? She just dey disgrace herself!]*

*[The main man shade sweet die. He dey manage the supporting character, she think say he dey like her?]*

As I hold the new cloth, my heart dey pain like needle dey prick am.

I feel like say person pour cold water for my body. All the small joy I get just melt.

My mama and papa die early. All the men cloth for my house na old one. After I heal Ikenna, I no get money. As I see that light blue silk, I just imagine as e go fine for him body. I buy am, forget say I never buy cloth for myself for years.

I remember that night for market, when cold catch me, I wear my papa old wrapper. I still remember how my teeth dey shake, but I use prayer hold myself, dey hope say better go come. If I fit treat stranger better than myself, e mean say my heart still soft, even if people no see am.

Even though I dey rough, I no fit say I treat am bad. Na only when he vex me well well I go flog am small. Still better than those men for our village wey dey beat wife steady.

If people dey call me wicked, make dem remember say na only correction I dey give. I never break bottle for anybody head before.

But this boy na real white-eyed goat—no fit raise am well. At first, he no sabi do anything, even dey fear pig. To serve tea or water, wahala. If I tell am help me bath or change, he go dey look like say he wan die—face hard, lips tight, only him ear go red from vex. As if say I disgrace am. Always dey talk back. Anything I do, e no dey touch am. Whip no dey pain am. He go say sorry, but next time, same thing. Person no fit teach am.

I dey even suspect say e dey pretend sometimes. Maybe na pride no dey let am gree learn. But me self don tire for stubborn goat wahala.

After I see those WhatsApp status, I understand why.

Na their own script e dey act. For their eye, e no fit gree for woman like me. Na so e be, make I rest.

My heart dey pain, chest dey tight.

I feel like say air no dey enter my chest well. Na small tear I wan drop but I hold am.

Suddenly, everything just dey useless. I no want am again.

I carry cloth, throw am one side. E fit naked reach next week, e no go pain me—after all, na my heart dem naked first.

I throw the new cloth for ground, my voice cold: "No wear anything again, I no send!"

My voice echo for house. Na that kind coldness wey make even mosquito run.