Chapter 7: The Hundred-Day Showdown

Obinna get pikin late, now work dey boom. Plenty people dey rush am.

If you see congratulatory gifts, you go think say election dey come. My house dey full, my phone dey ring tire.

The hundred-day party suppose loud, but I talk make we do am small, invite only main people.

Na so people dey beg invitation. "Madam, abeg, my name no dey list?" I just dey select.

Obinna no argue; he don tire for party wahala. True true, na brain man—he no like explain to people, but now wey he dey big position, he must dey mix.

His face dey serious, but I sabi say na stress. For Naija big men, party na part of work.

So, he agree my plan.

He just nod, make I run am. As madam of house, na me dey call shot for this kind event.

I book Palm Grove Room private kitchen. The owner respect Obinna, reserve the whole upstairs. Still, guest list long, everywhere full. Big people, family dey happy.

If you see food, you go fear. Small chops, jollof rice, isi ewu, asun—everybody dey chop, dey laugh. The aroma of fried plantain and peppered snail dey mix with perfume and sweat, everybody dey gist, dey laugh. The kind laughter wey dey Lagos party, you no fit see am for another place.

I know say, na this kind time dey pain side chick pass. She know say as long as she no be official wife, she no fit celebrate anything with Obinna. As long as she no be official, one call go bring Obinna back house. As long as she no be official, she go dey chop eye and insult.

If you see her eye, you go know say pain dey hide under smile. Dem fit pretend, but e dey show.

She get patience, don endure for years, dey pretend say e no pain her, dey gather guilt for Obinna head.

If you dey Lagos, you go know say side chick na master for endurance. Dem dey chop insult, but na last card dey sweet dem pass.

I even find out say she freeze her eggs, convince Obinna go fertility center. I know Obinna dey almost gree—no matter how she package am, she want pikin with her name. But once that pikin show, no matter surname, e go still collect Obinna love and money. Obinna don even ask lawyer about divorce.

E shock me. For Lagos, once woman freeze egg, na sign say she ready for war. If pikin enter, story go change forever.

So, I no fit delay.

If I slack, na another woman go enter house. I gats move.

On the hundred-day party, I arrange make Auwalu invite Zainab go chop. I know she go show. People dey funny—dem know say e go pain, but dem go still come look. Three years ago, for my mama-in-law birthday, she hide for back door dey peep. This one, she go come too.

Na so side chick life be. Dem dey form say dem no care, but dem dey always show face for background.

But I no expect say she go wear the same red lace gown as me.

If you see us, you go think say na twins. I just laugh, but inside me, I dey vex.

Upstairs, I dey toast, dey laugh. Downstairs, for public area, I wonder wetin she dey feel as she dey chop.

As I dey look, I dey imagine if na me, if I fit take that kind eye.

Last thing for the party na to share ‘hundred-day cake.’ I tell kitchen make enough, even share for people downstairs, make the happiness spread.

Everybody dey happy, dey dance, dey chop. Na so party dey sweet.

Through the listening device wey Auwalu wear, I hear Zainab talk cold: “I no fit stand this Naija wahala—family matter, dem must announce am everywhere.”

Na so e dey pain dem. They go pretend say dem above drama, but e dey touch body.

I feel her bitterness reach downstairs. Time dey right.

Na so I carry baby, waka go downstairs, find quiet corner, open my blouse, begin breastfeed.

I dey look face, dey wait for who go talk. Na my house, na my pikin. If anybody wan disgrace me, make dem try am.

For main part, I use silk scarf cover, but everybody sabi say na breastfeeding I dey do.

For Lagos, people dey pretend say dem dey civilized, but small thing go make dem change.

Maybe because we don dey form civilized society too much. For red carpet, if woman wear low cut, dem go call am sexy and fashion, but if mother dey breastfeed, na shame.

Na so I reason am. If na oyibo, dem go clap, but for here, everybody dey form holy.

So, one young waitress come meet me, just talk: “Madam, this place na public. Wetin you dey do no good.”

She dey talk soft, but her eye dey do like say I offend her papa.

“But my pikin dey hungry. I must feed am.”

My voice dey calm, but my chest dey rise. For Lagos, if you talk true, na you dem go attack.

“You fit feed am for toilet. This na restaurant; e no good to do this here.”

She dey frown, dey look me up and down. I just dey smile, dey look other women face for corner.

“You dey chop for toilet? Why e no good to feed pikin here?”

I raise voice small. Other guests begin look. Na so fight dey start.

“You dey do anyhow. Your action dey disturb our guests. Abeg, commot.”

I reason say e wan make me vex, but I hold myself. Still, I ready fire.

Anger catch me: “How my breastfeeding take disturb you? You no come from woman? You no suck breast before? Who dey uncomfortable? Show me!”

Na so my mouth sharp, eye red. I dey ready for fight.

My voice loud, everybody begin look.

As I talk, people dey adjust chair, dey hide laugh. Men dey look phone, women dey whisper. Na Naija party style.

Men wey get sense no look me, dem face the waitress. Women dey look me with mixed feelings—some pity, some no fit talk.

Some dey nod, some dey shake head. E get as woman matter dey be for this our society.

Waitress raise voice: “Na because customer complain we dey talk. Abeg, get respect, commot.”

She dey use "customer" shield herself. But na who be the real complainant?

“Who? Who no get sense to complain about mother wey dey breastfeed?”

I dey look everywhere, dey find the person. No be today dem dey try shame woman for public.

Waitress face change, she no fit talk.

Her eye dey shake. She dey fear say wahala don pass her power.

That time, Zainab stand up: “Na me complain. So? Who no get sense? For day time, public, dey show your breast—na you no get home training!”

Her voice cold, sharp. E cut like knife. Everybody shock.

“Person like you deserve…”

She no finish, because Obinna come downstairs.

Na so the air freeze. Obinna dey look everybody, eye red, vein dey show for neck.

I sure say Obinna never see this side of Zainab before, he shock. But as man wey sabi control, he quick recover, remove him jacket, cover me and baby.

Na so he cover me, gently, whisper for ear: "Sorry, abeg." E surprise me. For public, he dey support me, no mind who dey look.

As I see him face dark, I talk softly, “Upstairs too smoky, baby dey hungry. I no get choice.”

I dey beg, but I dey show say na family first.

I no know wetin touch am that time, but he bend talk, “Na my fault. I no take care of you well.”

He soft, voice low, make me almost cry.

Then he face the owner, “Sorry, Mr. Ade. My wife need breastfeed. Abeg, fit get screen for her?”

Mr. Ade rush come, dey apologize. Na so rich people dey do for Lagos—customer wey be big man, na him get last word.

Mr. Ade slap him head, “Ah, my hospitality fall hand. Madam and pikin, sorry o. This food na free—abeg, give me chance to make up.”

He snap finger, call manager, dey beg like say I be minister wife.

By then, that waitress don disappear.

She no fit stand the heat. I dey pity her, but na business.

I know say she go lose job for this, so I give her 10,000 naira before to help me act. I also put small psychoactive drug for the hundred-day cake wey she give Zainab—not too much, just enough to make her balance scatter, make her negative feelings high.

I plan everything well. Lagos na city wey only smart survive.

Obinna protect me, this one vex Zainab more. With the drug, she kick down the screen.

She stand, dey scatter everywhere. Everybody dey look. Na so drama begin.

The noise make baby cry. I hug am, hide for one corner.

My chest dey tight. I dey fear say wahala go pass me.

“Stop to dey form! This your age, still dey act like small girl. Breastfeed for public—no shame? See yourself—any man dey look you?”

Zainab voice dey tremble, hand dey shake. She don lose composure. Everybody dey stare.

Na first time I hear this kind bad word, and I no expect am from gentle Zainab.

Even her own friends dey shock. Nobody expect say she fit vex reach like this.

Before I fit cry, na she begin cry first, point Obinna, dey shout, “See you, dey treat this trash like gold. You dey dress her like queen, but na useless she be—she deserve am?”

Tears dey her face, voice dey break. For the first time, I pity her small. But na war, no space for pity.

I no see Obinna face, but anger dey shake am. People from upstairs come down dey look.

Obinna dey clench fist, dey breathe heavy. Na so party scatter.

I wish make Obinna slap Zainab, but as woman wey he don love for years, he no fit. He just tell owner, “Mr. Ade, abeg, carry this mad woman commot. Sorry.”

His voice cold, sharp. For Obinna to call woman mad, e mean say e don tire.

But Zainab don craze, eye red, rush Obinna. Two security struggle drag her out.

She dey scream, dey fight. Everybody dey hold breath, dey record video for phone.

“Obinna, how you fit do me like this? Why you dey protect her? Na only say she give you children? I fit born too. Obinna, you no get heart, I wait for you for years, now you call me mad? Treat me like this? Obinna, no think say I no fit survive without you—men full everywhere…”

Her voice dey echo. She dey try hold Obinna hand, but security no gree.

This… the drug too strong. I remember say I no use plenty. No be say I too get pity, but I fear say if I overdo, Zainab go suspect.

I dey panic small. This one don pass my control. For Lagos, if woman mess up, na video go trend.

I look Auwalu for corner dey swirl wine—chei, with alcohol, the drug go strong pass. I see Auwalu pour wine for flowerpot—he give Zainab something join?

My mind dey run. If na him mix extra, wahala fit burst. I dey signal am with eye, make he arrange matter.

Better make wahala no too big. I signal Auwalu make he go handle Zainab.

I dey wave hand, mouth "go, go." He stand, dey stretch, dey act like say nothing dey happen.

Meanwhile, Obinna face don spoil finish. Worse, my mama-in-law faint, my sister-in-law dey pinch her nose, dey shout for ambulance.

Family don enter drama. Old mama dey faint, everybody dey run up and down. Ambulance dey hon, na so ambulance siren waka, and I know say this party go trend for Lagos till next year.