Chapter 6: Ashes and Questions

When I reach house that night, as I enter, my wife start to complain:

"Where you go again? You no see Ebuka today?"

Her words land as I open door, heavy with worry and anger. She stand for door, arm cross, eye red from tiredness.

"You just dey waka up and down—money nko? You bring any?"

Voice rise, frustration and fear show. I sabi the pain—every hospital bill, every new medicine, na mountain we dey climb.

"Treatment dey cost... How we go do now..."

She shake head, dey waka for parlour, tears for eye. I know say she dey fear—not only for Ebuka, but say she go lose me too, to this wahala.

I sit for sofa, headache dey knock my head.

I drop bag, slump for old chair. Temple dey pain, I press palm for eye, dey try block noise and pain.

The more I think of that mad man talk, the more I believe e get hand for Ifeoma matter.

His word dey echo for my mind, mix with fear. E get pattern I no see? Na the area swallow other pikin too?

If I no pursue this thing now, maybe I no go ever know truth.

I clench fist, need for answer dey burn hot. I no go let Ifeoma memory fade. Not while I dey breathe.

I think long, then tell my wife,

"That old place go soon demolish. I go today go arrange am, maybe e go take some days. If I finish, I fit get better money."

Na lie, just to make her rest. If I talk true, e go worry more.

Her eye just shine,

"True? E good o... e good..."

Small smile show. For that moment, hope dey for her eye, I feel small relief mix with guilt.

At least, she rest small.

She nod, shoulder relax. I promise myself, I no go fail her again.

Night reach, I no fit sleep. For dream, I see Ifeoma, that long staircase, that stained wall.

Sleep scatter, shadow and voice full am. For dream, I dey waka empty building, dey call her name. Wall dey whisper back, dey mock me.

I dey climb stairs, dey find my daughter face for wall. But this time, her shadow no show.

Staircase long, every step heavy. I search corner, but her face just hide.

Instead, half human face just swell come out from the wood grain for handrail.

Suddenly, wood twist, face push out as if e dey struggle breathe. Eye open, wide and beg. My heart jump.

I shock, jump back, nearly fall from stairs.

Leg slip, world turn. I grab rail, heart dey hammer, sweat dey run my face.

Same time, sharp sound of fingernails scratching echo for stairwell...

Sound climb my back—sharp, desperate, like claw for coffin. I wake gasp, chest tight.

I wake up with fear.

Room dark, but fear real, heavy. I wipe face, try calm myself.

After I calm, I see my wife no dey bed.

Her side empty, sheet cold. I sit up, worry dey bite me.

I get up, see light for balcony.

Small light dey show for door. I stand, feet cold, waka go there.

My wife squat, dey burn something for iron basin.

She sit low, face bright from fire. Smoke curl up, smell of old cloth and memory dey fill air.

I waka go softly.

I move gentle, no wan scare her. She no look up, her eye fix for fire.

I see say she dey burn clothes.

Flame dey chop faded dress, socks, pink scarf. Cloth dey twist, turn ash.

Na the clothes I no fit throw away—the ones Ifeoma wear when she still dey alive.

Each piece na memory—birthday, Sunday, small joy and tears. I hide them, no fit let go, but she dey send them off, one by one.

I no disturb, no ask why.

Some sorrow private, too deep for talk. I let her mourn her way.

She whisper, "Chukwu, hold my pikin wherever she dey."

Because I remember another thing—

Memory wey I forget. The day Ifeoma disappear, my wife no dey with me downstairs. She dey inside, for sixth floor, busy.

When Ifeoma go down alone, my wife dey house, sixth floor.

My heart begin run like rat for hot pot.

New fear enter me—sharp, cold. Na something I miss? Or my mind dey find who to blame, just to make sense of pain?