Chapter 2: Makurdi Gossip and Family Wounds

Everybody for Makurdi sabi say Olumide no love me.

Na true talk. From okada men to market women, even my tailor for Wadata market dey always hint me, "Madam, make you shine your eye." I go just smile like mumu, but the thing dey cut me small small for chest.

Even after we engage, women still dey waka in and out around am.

Some go wear designer, some go wear simple Ankara, but dem all get one thing for common: dem no send me. Sometimes I go reach Olumide office, see woman shoe for entry. I go just bone, greet reception, act like say na normal thing.

So when Olumide’s babe show for my birthday party, everybody just dey look me and her.

Some people dey pretend say dem no dey see, but Naija party no dey hide drama. Even the MC pause, hold microphone for air. One aunty for the back just dey sip zobo, her eye dey shine like torchlight.

The hall wey dey lively before, everywhere just quiet.

Na so hush fall like rain wey no get thunder. Even the band man pause him keyboard, like say e dey wait for director signal. The DJ dey spin small Flavour track before wahala start.

Olumide’s assistant stand for my front, dey talk with respect,

“Madam, oga meet this lady just now as he comot.”

He face dey sweat small, even though AC dey blast. E dey look me for eye, as if e dey beg me make I no fall hand.

“He say make I bring her come meet you, make you handle am.”

His mouth twist as he talk that 'handle am,' as if e dey swallow pepper. Dem dey use respect cover insult sometimes. My chest dey hot, but my face dey calm.

That ‘make you handle am’ just be like say dem dey give me respect.

For my mind, I dey laugh. Which kind respect be that wey person dey push woman give another woman, as if na rag wey dem wan throw away?

But who for Makurdi no know wetin e mean?

Even the children wey dey play for outside fit decode say na wahala don land. My cousin for one corner don already dey record with her phone.

‘Handle am’ na just to dey clean up after all the women wey he dey follow.

Na so my life turn cleaner. As if I sign contract to dey arrange Olumide mess. If person talk am for village, dem go say, 'na jazz dem use hold am.'

I press my lips, waka go meet the woman.

My feet dey heavy, but I move. My head dey blank, but my eyes dey sharp. I dey calculate how to carry myself with dignity for all these people wey dey look.

But she shift back, hand dey cover her belle.

She dey tremble small, her wrapper shift for waist. As she raise hand, I notice small scar for her wrist. She no fit look me straight, but I see fear and hope dey fight for her face.

That move just make me freeze.

E shock me, because na that kind gesture wey you see for person wey dey protect her own.

“Madam Ifunanya, I get belle.”

Her voice low, but e reach everybody ear. Even the caterer stop dey serve drink.

“I know say you and Mr. Okoye just engage, abeg shift make we two dey together.”

E pain me, but the girl dey beg true true. Her eye red, tears just dey hang like dew. Na this kind wahala dey scatter woman spirit.

That ‘Madam Ifunanya’ shock my heart small.

Na so I remember my real name, not just 'Mrs. Okoye to be.' I feel small sharp pain for chest, like say na today I wake from long sleep.

I no even remember when last person call me that.

I dey always answer 'babe,' 'dear,' or 'oga wife,' but 'Ifunanya' get weight, na my own name.

I look her face, ask, “So you wan be Mrs. Okoye, abi?”

My voice no shake, but e dey hard. I dey wait for her to talk truth, because na only truth fit free both of us.

She shake her head, tears just dey rush her eyes.

She wipe am with back of hand. Her voice crack, "No, Madam Ifunanya, I no fit let my pikin enter this world without papa name."

I hear people for back dey murmur, some dey nod, some dey hiss.

As she talk finish, everywhere for the hall scatter with whisper.

One woman tap her friend, whisper, "Na wa o!" Even the MC try laugh small, but e no fit cover the shame.

Some dey mock, some dey laugh, some dey pity.

Even the old women wey dey respect me for market, their eye soft small. Some dey look the girl with pity, others dey use eye measure me. Makurdi no dey forget drama.

Na she be the first woman wey come meet me with belle like this.

I don see many, but nobody carry belle come meet me face to face. Na so my spirit just calm, like harmattan breeze.

I think am well, then remove the coral bracelet wey Olumide lock for my wrist that time.

My hand dey steady as I unhook am, the cold beads dey press my palm. Some guests dey hold breath, some dey snap picture.

Everybody just dey shock as I put am for the woman’s slim hand.

She stretch hand, surprise for face. I lock the bracelet well, even arrange am make e fine. One small girl clap hand quietly.

“E fit you well.”

She smile, try hold back tears. I see hope small for her face.

“Abeg, congrats to you and Mr. Okoye in advance.”

I talk am loud, so everybody hear. I no wan hide my own pain again. The guests dey look, some dey nod, some dey sigh. Na so I free myself that day.