Chapter 2: Grandpa’s Compound—Who Truly Want Me?

Just like before, the room wey dem prepare for me—sheet, quilt, pillow—na so the dog tear everything to pieces.

Dog hair scatter everywhere. Na that kain stubborn local dog, no be oyibo breed. The smell choke—e mix with the usual soap scent for new sheet. If na village, dem for don chase dog commot since.

Dog poo and urine full everywhere—bed, floor, everywhere just dey smell anyhow.

Mosquito join the wahala, dey buzz for window. If na my Mama house, she for don pour Dettol everywhere, light candle. I bend down, my nose wrinkle. Na real sufferhead setup.

The fake daughter, Halima, dey cry as she dey beat the barking dog: “See wetin you don do! Why you go scatter sister room like this? You too stubborn, wuwu…”

She use old wrapper flog dog small. For here, people dey use broom or slippers, but she try control herself. Her tears mix with sweat, voice dey break as she talk. The dog dey dodge, tail between leg, but Halima no send am.

She raise her face wey tears full: “Sorry, sister, abeg manage my room for now. I go stay for store…”

She look me, eyes beg beg, voice low. Her nose red, she wan make I pity am. For Naija house, if pesin cry like this, elders go dey beg make we settle.

The compound get two guest rooms. One dem give me—now e don turn wahala. The other one na for Grandpa wey come from far.

Dem arrange Grandpa room well, put new bedsheet and small fan. My own na total mess. The compound big, fence high, but wahala still full inside. Na so life be sometimes.

As Halima dey talk, she begin pack her load to enter store room.

She dey use small Ghana-Must-Go bag, carry cloth waka. Her hand dey shake, slippers make kpukpuru kpukpuru sound for corridor. For her face, e clear say she dey act, but mummy dey pity her.

Mummy see as my room bad reach, she first get small vex for Halima and the dog. But as Halima start to cry, Mummy come pity am. She hug Halima say, “No be your fault, Halima. You no dey sleep well—if you change room, you fit get insomnia. E better make two of una share room this night. Tomorrow, we go clean everywhere.”

Mummy try balance matter, dey speak softly. She look me, her face dey beg make I agree. For Naija, nobody wan see pikin dey cry. The househelp pass with mop, shake head, mutter under breath, “See drama.”

But Grandpa, wey never talk since, just para: “So una no fit control dog for this house? Una do am on purpose, abi? If una no want the girl, why bring am come house?”

Grandpa voice loud, e shock everybody. Him wear old Ankara, glasses dey tip for nose. He glare at everybody, him cane dey hand. For Naija, elders no dey fear to talk their mind. His own wahala no get brake.

Mummy frown. “Daddy, no be so.”

She try pacify am, voice low, eye dey fear. Na so family matter dey always get as e be. She adjust her scarf, try smile, but e stiff.

Grandpa raise voice: “If no be so, na wetin? House full people, una no fit watch dog?”

He tap cane for ground, dey wait answer. Even gateman peep from gate. For old men, respect dey important—him pride no dey joke.

Halima begin cry more.

She cover face, sniff. Her sob dey loud, make everywhere tense. Even wall gecko stop run for wall, dey look. One neighbour for window mutter, 'See as pikin dey act Nollywood for real life.'

Mummy come vex small. “Daddy, abeg, no make matter worse.”

She try cool everywhere, voice dey tremble. She no wan make neighbours hear more noise. She adjust wrapper again, eye dey sharp.

But Grandpa no gree. “So na two people wey no sabi themselves go squeeze for one room be your solution? If una no fit arrange bed for am, I go carry am go my house—make Amara come dey live with me!”

He knock his cane for tile. Everybody quiet. For Naija, when elder para like this, nobody wan talk anyhow. Grandpa carry pride reach roof.

Mummy fire back: “Na house you dey call that your place? You wan carry her go suffer with you?”

Her lips thin, voice high. She point hand, insult dey drip for tone. She shake head, say, “I beg, that place no be house!” Neighbours begin gather for fence, dey whisper.

Grandpa face red as he reply: “All these compound wey una dey live, na me get am! Why I dey manage for old house now? No be because my own pikin and wife wicked pass masquerade? Una trick me collect all my shares, then throw me commot—”

He knock cane again, voice shake. For our culture, property fight dey cause real gbege. Grandpa dey talk with pain, vein stand for neck. He mention masquerade, everybody know say na big insult.

Mummy, shame and anger together, cut Grandpa short: “Fine! Ask Amara yourself! Make she talk if she wan follow you go that your old house or stay for this big compound!”

She fling hand, chest dey rise. Voice dey break, but she stand ground. She wan make I talk so dem go see who get her heart.

Last life, dem just carry me from orphanage, I no even know wetin to do.

I remember that first day—my leg dey shake, eyes dey find where to hide. I dey hope say new family go mean new life.

After all those years for orphanage, I just wan get parents. I dey hope say dem go love me like other children.

I dey count days, dey pray for night, hope say God go answer my secret wish. Other children for orphanage dey tell me, “Your real mama go love you pass anybody.” My heart dey soft.

So, when Mummy shout for me, I talk say I wan stay for house.

I no wan disappoint her. Na so I smile, nod, follow her. I wan belong, wan fit call person ‘mama’ without fear.

Na so I share room with Halima.

I shift my small bag, put am for one corner. Halima do like say e pain her, but I try smile for her. I no wan quarrel, I wan peace.

But next day, Halima catch high fever.

Her body hot like fire, sweat dey pour. Everybody panic, dey pour water for her body, dey pray: “God abeg, heal am.”

Everybody chest break, dem dey ask if cold catch am.

Mummy dey cry, Daddy dey vex. “How she go sick just like that?” Dem call nurse, dey find paracetamol everywhere.

Halima, eyes red, talk somehow: “Maybe… I no know. I just wake up see say my wrapper don loss…”

She talk slow, voice weak. Everybody look me with suspicion. For here, if something loss, dem go first ask new person.

Daddy and Mummy quick drive me commot from Halima room.

Dem drag my bag, push me go guest room. Mummy mutter, “You no fit stay near Halima again!”

My brother slap me, teeth grit: “If I catch you worry Halima again, I go finish you!”

He point finger for my face, his face hard. “You wan kill am?” I dodge slap, fear grip me.

Na that day dem first beat me after I come house.

Na real heartbreak. For orphanage, I think say family dey different. That day, my hope scatter.

Dem all believe na me drag Halima wrapper, make she sick.

Nobody listen to my side. For Naija, dem go say ‘na the new one dey cause wahala.’

I try explain, but nobody send me.

I dey cry, but e no move anybody. I shout, “No be me!” Dem just waka go. My heart cold.

So this life, I tell Mummy: “I go follow Grandpa.”

I look Grandpa, him just nod small. My chest strong, I talk. My voice strong. Everybody shock. For Naija, no be every pikin dey talk back like that. But I don suffer, I no wan repeat mistake.

For my mind, Grandpa dey hot-tempered, always dey fight my parents. E no too easy to stay with am.

E get as e be. Grandpa fit vex, fit shout, but him no dey fake. At least, him own wahala dey pure.

But now, orphanage no go take me back. As secondary school girl, I need place to stay.

I dey reason my future. My eyes dey shine, mind dey sharp. For here, as pikin wey no get anybody, you gats plan your life well.

Mummy shock.

She open mouth, look me from head to toe, hand rest for waist. Her eye dey red, but she no wan show say e pain am.

After small time, she breathe deep, say: “Amara, Halima no mean am. Na dog just stubborn…”

She try patch matter, but her voice dey shake. For Naija, Mummy dey always try cover family shame.

She believe say everybody go choose compound, so she think I just dey form.

She hiss, turn face. For her mind, she dey expect make I beg. But this time, I just hold my ground.

I just look am, no talk.

I stand, my back straight. I let silence answer her. Na small pride dey my eyes too.

She pause, raise eyebrow: “Okay, if you wan go Grandpa house, go. He dey lonely—help us keep am company.”

She wave hand like say e no concern her. Voice flat. For her mind, she don free herself.

I see say she even happy make I go.

Her lips curl small, eyes soft. For her mind, she dey glad say wahala commot from her side.

So, she never really want me come back.

The truth hit me. For Naija, people dey hide true mind, but action loud pass talk. Now I see am.

Last life, I no see am clear.

I dey too young, dey blind with hope. But now, my sense don open.

I no even know say na because orphanage discover my real identity, come tell dem, dem no get choice.

I remember the file, the test, the phone call. They no fit deny me that time.

Grandpa surprise small, but he no ask why. He just carry me go.

He tap me for back, say, “No worry, pikin. Life no finish.” I follow am, my bag small but my heart heavy. For Grandpa face, e show say him go try.

Mummy do like say she care: “Your daddy and brother busy today. When dem get time, we go do welcome party for you.”

She squeeze my hand, voice gentle, but her eye dey far. For our side, party na big thing, but sometimes na just mouth.

Last life, I believe am, dey expect.

I dey count days, dey peep calendar, dey wait make dem call my name.

But till I die, that party no happen.

No music, no jollof rice, no nothing. I dey wait tire.

This time, I just answer: “We go see.”

I talk am soft, voice dry. I no wan hope again.

Mummy face come awkward.

Her smile fade. She look away, press phone like say message enter. The air heavy, everybody dey avoid my eye.

As we dey go, Halima give me one kind proud smile.

She raise eyebrow, corner mouth lift. Na the kain look wey person dey give if dem win small fight. For Naija, some pikin dey sabi act drama well.

She think say she win.

She cross leg, adjust hair. She dey happy say I dey go. But I no send am.

But for this life, I no dey find family love again. I no even send her at all.

My mind strong. If love no dey come free, I no go beg for am. I dey ready face my own road.

But this time, my heart no shake—her voice no fit break me again.