Chapter 5: Blood on Her Hands

After getting Tobi’s promise, my papa leave Amara alone, let her do as she like. Even when, because maid fail steady boiling water and pour am for her favourite wrapper, she cut the maid hand with machete.

That afternoon, house freeze. I hear the scream before I see blood. Amara wipe blade for grass, then look me with wild spark. For chief house, fear pass room like cold.

I stand there, shocked, frozen. She wipe blood off machete, ignore maid scream, point at wet spot on wrapper, look down at me.

Her eye dare me to refuse, show pride. The servants turn face, pretend no see. Sweat break for my wrapper.

“Lick it clean.”

I no hesitate. I lick am clean.

My tongue touch red cloth, salt and shame burn me. That moment, I swallow not just dirt, but all insult life fit throw.

She laugh so hard, almost fall over, say I be like dog. I bear am, smile. Before power or status, all pride and temper na just way to kill yourself.

My laughter join hers, thin and hollow. If I vex, I lose; if I show pain, I finish. I wore my obedience like wrapper—let her laugh now, one day my own turn go reach.

As e happen, I fall sick, fever dey burn me. At same time, for Old Market Road, young prince hold wrestling competition. The winner, Musa Danladi, throw javelin from far, master with cutlass. Born farmer son, he beat all rich boys. He win style, bold girl for crowd confess love to am. He refuse, say, “My heart belong to another—I no fit marry you.”

Musa na real lion for field. As crowd dey shout, women throw scarf and kolanut for am, but his eyes no shift. All Makurdi start to talk, 'who be this girl wey hold Musa heart?'

When girl ask who he love, he answer, “Amara of Chief’s house.”

Gossip fly faster than harmattan fire. Even market women start call Amara ‘the one Musa wants’. Her fame no get rival. If beauty dey measured by suitors, she for wear crown.

From then, everybody dey admire and envy Amara. World always judge woman by how many men want am.

For market, church, even stream—tongue dey wag. ‘See Amara! See how men dey fall for am!’ As if woman value na only for man eye. I just dey watch, dey learn as praise fit turn sweet to bitter.

Amara love swordplay, never satisfied with sparring partner. Instructors no fit fight am real—her temper wild, she don injure people before. She ride out to find the man wey dare talk love for public. Since engagement to Tobi Adekunle, every man for Makurdi dey dodge am. She never meet person so bold. Her curiosity wake up.

That evening, she clean machete, tie wrapper tight, ride bush, dey find adventure. Me, I sit on mat, hug fever, dey wonder how many more surprise this house go see.