Chapter 8: New Beginnings and Hidden Fire

After that, I attend both my brothers’ wedding party one by one.

Each wedding na festival—town dey shake, musicians dey line up. Even elders from far place dey send gift. I dey look, dey chop, dey hail.

Eldest Brother become Prince Femi of Oke-Odo, Second Brother Prince Sulaiman of Okpoko, both marry with all the show.

Aso-ebi full ground. Young girls dey dance, elders dey toast, chicken dey roast for fire, aroma dey confuse person.

Agidigbo dey play, women dey spray money, jollof rice smell dey call everybody.

Everywhere shine—beads, aso-oke, gold, antiques, all dey blind eye.

If sun touch the gold, everywhere dey glitter. Some people even dey wear sunglasses for night because of all the bling.

Lawal Musa cover my mouth, whisper for my ear:

E know say I too dey like food. E cover my mouth, whisper, "Bayo, behave o, no disgrace me for here."

“Hold am, no let saliva fall. I sabi say you like money, but today abeg hold your pride.”

I dey try hold laugh, but stomach dey rumble. Party dey sweet me, food dey call my name.

I dey nod like say every nod go bring money come my hand.

E see as my head dey bob, e slap my back small, "You no dey hear word."

Time waka pass like water, finally reach my own marriage.

The way days dey fly, e shock me. One week, dem dey call me bachelor, next week, my name dey invitation card.

Before wedding, dem give me title Prince Bayo and prince mansion.

Palace crier announce am—people hail, children dey sing new song for compound. "Prince Bayo don get house!"

No reach my brothers own, but e no bad—at least better pass wetin Papa Oba get that year.

House no too big, but e neat. Furniture correct, compound no get wahala. My own pass old king bungalow wey dem always complain about.

Na so e suppose be—Grandpapa born plenty sons, but Papa Oba only get three.

If you see family tree, na only our branch dey short. Even palace historian dey always sigh say, "This king get only three sons o!"

At least till dem choose Crown Prince, make things no too bend—make people no get talk.

If matter set, people go rest. Everybody dey wait for final crown.

I collect royal decree, carry my mama go check the mansion.

Mama dey shine face. We waka round house, greet guard, check kitchen. Her eyes dey wet, but her heart dey swell.

Prince house get fine work, painted roof, winding corridor, water pond, small garden.

Small pond dey gurgle for backyard, frog dey sing. Mama dey point flower, dey talk story how she plant hibiscus for palace backyard years ago.

Door and window dey shine, chair and table clean, everywhere fine and homely.

She test chair, laugh say, "Bayo, see as chair balance! You don arrive."

My mama dey touch, dey look, dey smile till tears dey her eye.

She dab face with wrapper, dey pray small prayer, "God, thank you."

We waka finish, my leg don tire, but she still dey strong.

She hold my hand, guide me round, make sure everything dey perfect. Old joy dey fresh for her body.

When people don go, mama turn back, pray quietly to sky:

She face sky, whisper for low voice, "Mama mi, Bayo don marry. You fit rest now."

“Mama, Bayo don marry. You fit rest for heaven!”

I dey feel am deep. Even spirit go dey dance for clouds.

I know say mama dey miss my grandma.

For night, she dey stare window, dey hum old song, dey remember her own mama way.

She and Chief Okorie daughter both be children wey lose mama early, chop plenty suffering, sit for cold bench, chop cold food, now finally see better.

Both of them get similar fate—so if life dey smile now, e reach to thank God.

No worry.

My own promise be say, my wife no go suffer for my house. I go give her peace, give her respect.

I go take care of my wife well.

As I dey make that promise, breeze dey blow soft. I believe say ancestors dey hear me for heaven.