Chapter 1: Fire for Kitchen, Enemy for House

As I dey tend the fire for stove, na so bullet comments just dey buzz my ear like Lagos traffic horn.

Na as I dey fan the flame, the stubborn smoke dey rise, curl enter my face, and na that time the bullet comments from people wey dey read my story for online begin show for my mind—dem dey yan anyhow, like say dem dey inside my kitchen dey watch me.

[The heroine wan burn her university admission letter—na so the real wahala go start.]

Breeze from window blow, the fire begin dance, and I just dey reason—if I burn this letter now, my whole life go change finish. For Naija, admission letter na gold—your ticket comot for village wahala. If I burn am, na big gbege I dey enter.

Na that moment Uncle Musa waka in give me one old box.

He waka come kitchen, face squeeze like person wey dem just give NEPA bill, hand this small box to me as if say e dey burn im palm.

He talk say, "Morayo, no waste time abeg. That box dey take space for here, burn am sharp sharp."

I look the box well. E old sotay e fit narrate story by itself. My hand dey itch to check inside but Uncle Musa face strong. For Naija, if elder say burn, you suppose burn am—no ask question.

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[Na the heroine admission letter dey inside that box. If she burn am, forget university.]

[She go just dey house dey take care of her mother-in-law, her life go just dey lonely. The male lead go carry the side chick go Abuja, dem go make money, even born pikin hide am. Na when the guy old, no fit waka, the side chick don tire for am, na that time he go remember say na the heroine he suppose love—and na then he go dey find how to win her back.]

All these bullet comments just dey heavy for my chest, like block. Dem dey talk as if dem don see tomorrow. My head dey float, I even forget say the water for the pot fit dry if I no check am.

I dey look bullet comments, my brain just blank—wetin I dey do self?

E be like say time freeze, my hand dey shake small. I dey wonder if I suppose obey Uncle Musa or peep inside. My heart dey run like generator wey dey overload.

Uncle Musa come nudge me, "Morayo, no waste time abeg. That box dey take space for here, burn am sharp sharp."

Him voice quick, like person wey dey fear say I go see wetin I no suppose see. The way him dey rush me, e mean make I no reason am two times.

I wan open the box, but Uncle Musa face change, im voice come dey hurry: "Na just my old papers dey inside. Even if you see am, e no go concern you. Just burn am."

E shock me how him voice just dey high. For my mind I dey ask: which kind old paper person dey fear like this? But for here, you no dey argue with uncle wey get that kind face—especially as elders dey rate am.

Before, anytime Uncle Musa show vex, I no dey argue—and this one no different.

Na so I just bone. If I talk, dem go say small pikin dey rude. I kuku throw the carton like that, make e no be say I dey stubborn.

As I throw the carton enter stove, na so Uncle Musa waka commot.

He waka go, the slippers for im leg dey kpra kpra for corridor. My mind just dey chase am, dey reason wetin fit dey inside box wey dey make am sweat.

As I no hear im leg again, I quickly carry the box come out.

My heart dey beat one kind, like juju drum for festival. I thank God say stove don already die, na only heat remain. E better say Uncle Musa no dey too enter kitchen, else wahala for gas.

The kitchen still dey hot, but my mind dey cold like morning harmattan.

I peep around—nobody. I open the box, hand dey shake. The first thing wey I see, na red university admission letter. My heart skip.

I press am for inside my ankara wrapper, the one with yellow star and red kola nut design, hide am for back of kitchen shelf wey nobody dey touch. My head full. Na real enemy dey inside house. For this house, even stove fire dey safer than some people.

I hide the letter, waka come out from kitchen, na so I hear voice from parlour.

Na as I wan waka pass corridor, I hear dem for parlour, dem dey talk low but I still catch the gist. My feet slow down.

"Mama, no worry. Morayo don burn her university admission letter. She go stay house dey take care of you. I go carry Halima go Abuja."

I stop. My ear sharp like radio antenna. My chest dey pound. So na plan be all this? Sweat dey my palm, my legs wan fail me, but I no move.

Mama Musa voice dey worry: "But if Morayo find out the real story nko?"

Her voice dey tremble, like say she dey fear wahala. My leg dey shake as I dey listen.

Uncle Musa laugh one kain: "Na she burn the letter by herself—who she wan blame? When time reach, we go just talk say we forget to put the letter inside box."

His laughter bitter, e be like when old pot dey burn for fire. I just stand for corner dey reason the evil for people mind.

[This male lead na bad person.]

[Na suffer story be this. The heroine go suffer first, na when the guy begin pursue her later e go sweet.]

[Which kind sweet? The guy dey enjoy with side chick when he young, na when dem dump am, he come dey find the heroine.]

[No be like Queen Amina wey suffer for bush for many years, come be queen for just small time?]

(Note: Queen Amina na woman for Hausa story wey wait for her kingdom for years, na small time she enjoy queen life.)

The pain wey I dey feel pass wetin bullet comment fit describe. For this Nigeria, people go do you strong thing, come twist am make you dey blame yourself. E pain me reach bone.

My mind just cold. Na now I believe the bullet comments.

The thing shock me. Even when you dey try do good, na dem go use your hand bury your own future. I hold wall make I no fall.

So Uncle Musa no even get plan to carry me go Abuja. For him eye, I just dey house to serve as free nurse for him mama.

True true, na househelp I be, no be wife. For our place, if dem no want you progress, dem go use family wahala tie you down. Na so people dey miss road for this life.

After everywhere quiet small, Uncle Musa see me enter, im voice cold.

His face stone, voice cold like harmattan breeze. "Halima don get admission for university, but her people no get money for school fees. How much remain for your hand?"

My hand dey cold. Wetin concern me with Halima school? Me sef get dream. But I brace up, voice low.

"I no get any money."

Uncle Musa shock small. Me wey dey always listen to am, dey answer back?

E shock am. For our place, wife no dey talk back like that, especially Morayo wey dem know say quiet. Na today mind strong reach my mouth.

Im face come harden, "Halima no get anybody for her side. You no feel say you suppose help?"

E dey talk like say na my work to sponsor Halima. My chest just dey rise. I fit hear my heart dey knock like generator wey dey trip.

My heart just tight. My papa na hero wey fight flood. That time, when everywhere dey scatter, he first save Uncle Musa—because na him dey near—no fit reach Halima papa wey dey the same village.

Memories just rush me. My papa dey swim, dey carry people, dey shout make dem move. Na Uncle Musa first, then flood strong, papa no fit turn back for Halima papa. E pain am that year.

After he save Uncle Musa, my papa don weak, na so the flood carry am go, we no see am again.

That day na black for our house. Dem even do community meeting, sing for my papa, say him try. Now see as dem dey use the story against me.