Chapter 8: The Last Ten Days

I think say he go vex, order people make dem drag me go torture, vent all his anger. But instead, he just order dem carry me back to my room.

Dem carry me gentle, no slap, no insult. For Naija, when person calm for wahala, e mean say e don tire. My heart soft small, but I just bone face.

Early morning, he stand for my door.

Sunlight dey shine behind am, make him shadow long for ground. E wear white, but the sorrow for his face deep like river. I no fit read his mind.

"I know say you no like Halima, but truly nothing dey between us. We grow together, her family suffer, now she dey sick, nobody to help am. I no fit just abandon her. But Aisha, I never hate you. Na just fear I dey fear you. As long as you no use those juju and witchcraft control me again, I want make we live well together."

His words heavy, but sincere. For Naija man, to admit fear, na big thing. I dey hear the pain, but my mind no fit forgive.

I no talk, I just feel disgust wey dey my throat. The fact say I no fit kill am na my biggest regret for this life.

My spirit dey struggle—if to say I fit control fate, I for just disappear. But rules dey, I no fit break am.

"Give me ten days. I go take care of Halima, send her comot from here, fulfill her wish to see those hills and rivers where we grow. When I return, make we start afresh. No vex again."

He dey beg with eyes. In this part of the world, sometimes eye talk pass mouth. I no answer.

As he talk finish, he waka go.

His footsteps heavy, echo for corridor. Even Zainab sigh, look me like person wey know secret.

Dem want ten days, but me, I only need nine.

For my mind, I dey count down. Na so e be—everybody get their own calendar for this life.

E balance like that.

As I watch the sun rise, I just dey pray make peace enter my soul before my own sun set. This Naija life sha—if e no tire you, e go teach you. Tomorrow fit come, but I no sure say my own heart go follow.