Chapter 10: Healing, Hope, and Palm Wine

The palm farm near old shrine. First day, I go church pray. I talk am from my heart: “Baba God, emi o fe suffer for love, biko. Anybody wey dey play with true love, make dem no ever get money.”

These days, every time I close eye, na Olamide face I dey see—face wey dey vex, face wey dey happy. Every time, I wan slap myself. I suppose dey flex, dey enjoy like Sani. Just that money no too dey.

So I open chat with Hibiscus: “Daddy, you go buy palm wine?”

Cockerel dey crow for backyard, palm wine dey chill for calabash. Na breeze from bush dey enter my window as I type, the smell of palm wine dey my nose, even goat wey dey farm dey bleat join. For that moment, I fit almost forget all the wahala. But deep down, I dey hope say one day, person go really carry me join body—no be just for show.