Chapter 8: Sleep Like Mama Wrapper

8.

As I come back from my thoughts, I see say almost all my things don move out. The photo of me and Morayo for bedside fall for ground. I step on am with high heel. The frame just scatter into pieces. He never die, but for my mind, he don finish. As I dey waka commot Morayo house, Morayo mama still dey curse behind:

“Don’t ever come back! You no even fit sweep my son grave for Christmas!”

[This old witch dey fear say babe go fight for inheritance, but babe family get money, she no even send.]

[Your son na king? To sweep him grave na big privilege? Even dog no go sweep am.]

“Auntie, abeg rest.”

Musa and Tunde follow me reach door: “Sister-in-law, if you need anything, just talk.”

“No need, I just want peace.”

“Actually, you fit dey right. Morayo fit still dey alive. Police never see him body. Maybe if we wait, good news go come.” Tunde add.

For inside me, peace begin dey form. I dey free from all their palava. I remember my aunty say, "When door close, breeze fit still enter window. No dey force yourself for place wey dem no want you."

[The main guy dey fear say babe fit harm herself after she move out, so him dey send his guys to dey encourage her.]

[Dem no know say babe don already know the truth. The three just dey act drama.]

I get some houses, but all of them dey rented out. I no fit just chase tenants because I wan move in, so I gree with Zainab, move my things to her family empty villa. When Zainab give me keys, I ask: “Your brother no go just show suddenly?”

“He no go come. I ask am just now. He say he no get plan to return. Even if he come, he no dey stay for that place. He dey go old house. Abeg, just relax, live there.”

I fit smell new freedom for this empty house. The villa quiet—no generator noise, no quarrel. Only my own breath dey echo for the parlour. For the first time, my heart calm small. I dey pray, "God, help me start again. No let fake love scatter my destiny."

After I sleep for two days straight, my eyes swell...

Sleep hold me like mama wrapper—tight, soft, nothing fit disturb me. I dream say I dey waka for open field, no Morayo, no bullet comment, no curse. Only breeze and the sound of my own laughter. For this Lagos, peace na big miracle.