Chapter 4: Royal Roots and Palace Shadows

Na my great-grandpapa start this our royal line.

For old family wall, you go see im portrait—big cap, staff for hand, eyes like eagle. If dem dey talk story for moonlight, na him matter first dey enter. Dem say for olden days, Oba go ride white horse for festival, children go scatter ground dey hail.

By the time e reach my grandpapa, the kingdom don get money, army strong.

People dey hail say, "Kingdom don hammer!" Money flow, warriors dey shine for festival, market dey bubble. People for neighbouring towns dey envy us.

The old man enjoy reign—no wahala from outside, no hunger, no gbege. E come use the free time dey born plenty pikin.

When other kingdoms dey fight war, my grandpapa dey host party. Pikin full house like sand for Oshogbo river. If e cough, house go shake.

Papa Oba own time, siblings too plenty—just princes wey grow reach adult pass twenty.

Every festival, you go see long row of princes dey bow for King. Their cap plenty reach to cover small village. If dem dey play ayo, na fight go start.

To grab throne, the brothers fight like wild animal.

Dem dey drag inheritance like meat for Sunday stew. Na only strong mind survive that kind family.

One day, Grandpapa call Papa Oba after council make e report state matter.

Na important day—council full, elders dey settle matter, Papa Oba dey arrange document. Tension dey hang for air.

Uncle Akin quietly put something for Papa Oba tea—na that kind thing wey dey ginger body.

Wetin elders no go see? Uncle Akin sharp, e just waka pass, drop ogogoro for tea. That mixture get power—e fit make goat run climb tree.

Papa Oba begin dey hot, but e no fit waka comot hall.

E dey shake, sweat dey pour, but protocol no allow am waka. If e move, people go suspect.

Na that time, house girl wey Queen Mother send to deliver puff-puff waka pass, na so I take enter this world.

Life twist like yam tendril—na small mistake, na so destiny turn. As house girl enter, things change forever.

That na why me and my mama no dey get Papa Oba love.

Na silent wall dey between us. E see me, e remember that day—pain dey hook im chest.

Anytime e see us, e dey remember how dem set am up.

Bitterness dey show for im face. Sometimes e go just look away, carry file, pretend say im no see us.

But because of Queen Mother, e still give us title—just no send us at all.

Na Queen Mother fight for our right. If no be her, we for dey squat for backyard. Na her strong hand dey keep us for palace.

Like, e no dey visit my mama, no remember my birthday, never carry me or even rub my head.

If na festival, I dey watch other children play with their papa. Me, I dey watch for far, dey wish for small smile.

Abeg, wetin be all that one?

Sometimes, I go reason am for night. "This life no balance," I go yarn myself, but I no go let am pain me too much.

Royal family cold pass anything—if your mind no strong, anger go finish you.

If you no build thick skin, palace wahala go chop you raw. Na only who get heart survive for this kind family.

As for Uncle Akin, im own end bitter.

People still dey talk am for night fire—betrayer no dey last. Uncle Akin wahala reach corner. Some people say na jazz, but na payback be that.

After Papa Oba become king, e lock am till e die, throw im family for cold place wey no get life.

Dem no pity am—carry am far, hide am for thick bush house. Im own story turn to warning for anybody wey dey plan coup for palace.

Throne fight na do or die.

Na full-grown lion dey win crown, not goat. If you slack, na end be that.