Chapter 1: Naming Day Trouble

The Oba clear him throat, the whole royal chamber hush as his voice thunder, "You don name your twins?"

As he spoke, the attendants near the doorway straightened, eyes glittering with anticipation. Even the elders at the edge of the gathering lifted their heads, sensing something big was about to happen. The air thick with burning incense and the distant beat of bata drums from the palace square, I felt goosebumps on my arms.

My papa answer, voice low, "We never name them, Your Majesty."

He shifted on his feet, shoulders bent deep in respect. His words trembled, just a little—the sound of a man before real power. My mama squeezed his hand, her wrapper making that soft swish, her head still bowed.

The Oba smiled, the gold on his wrist catching candlelight. "Make I name them myself."

A heavy silence fell. The Oba’s words hung in the air—everybody knew for king to name twins, na serious blessing. The elders nodded, some muttered prayers, calling on ancestors to witness this day.

Papa managed, "That one go be big honour for my pikin, sir."

His eyes shone with pride and a flicker of fear. The women in the back looked at each other, one old auntie even whistled softly, hiding her face behind her fan.

Oba declared, "Make one be called Ifeanyi Tangola, the other Ifeanyi Weimi. How you see am?"

The names rolled out like thunder. People shifted, murmuring. 'Tangola' sounded heavy with royalty; 'Weimi' was gentler, cool as rain.

Papa hesitated, sweat dotting his brow. "Oga, the name 'Ola' na royal name o. I dey fear say my pikin fit no carry am."

He glanced up, the weight of the Oba’s offer making his throat tight. To give a child royal name—na blessing and wahala together. Everybody knew.

Oba replied, "If she go be future queen, e go fit her."

The king’s eyes were sharp but soft, like a father daring you to be bold. Courtiers whispered behind him, faces full of curiosity and hope.

Papa dropped to his knees, pressing his forehead to the ground. "Oga, abeg, I dey fear."

He knelt low, humility and worry mixing in his gesture. The chamber stilled, until the king’s laughter—deep, rich, and understanding—echoed round, breaking the tension, making everybody breathe again.