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Reborn as My Own Son: The Oba’s Secret / Chapter 2: Grief and Small Joys
Reborn as My Own Son: The Oba’s Secret

Reborn as My Own Son: The Oba’s Secret

Author: Tommy Johnston


Chapter 2: Grief and Small Joys

I, the Oba, don kpai:

Na my Prime Minister cry pass everybody.

Chief Auwalu throw himself for my burial mat, dey wail like say he wan faint.

“My king suffer o… My king suffer o…”

Somebody try hold am, dey tell am make he no dey talk anyhow, say the late Oba get plenty sons and die for old age.

Auwalu vex, eye red. He push the person commot. “You don ever see person wey dey early forties die for old age?”

True talk, I just forty-five this year.

I think say I still get time.

When I hear am, inside my mind I dey laugh small—see wahala, see loyalty.

As I see say Auwalu dey over vex, I waka go pat him shoulder.

This old man heart no too strong. If he cry too much, he fit follow me go other side.

As my hand touch am, the man stiff, happiness flash for his eye as he turn look me, shock.

But as he see say na me, the light for him eye just die.

“So na… the Crown Prince.”

Auwalu bow, salute, him body just dey go down small small.

I blink, e touch me small.

The air thick as ogbono soup; the way Auwalu body just fall small, e pain me. Loyalty na strong thing.

I pat him shoulder again. “Chief, abeg, take care of yourself. Before my papa die, he tell me many times say your heart no strong, make you no over grieve. The whole kingdom still need you o.”

As he hear this one, Auwalu begin cry louder, dey knock head for my burial mat.

My War General dey cry too, but e no reach Auwalu own.

He dey cry dey pick offering for burial table dey chop.

I sniff. Mmm, na that puff-puff wey Mama Kemi dey make—sweet but no dey too oily, soft, na my favourite. The sugar rush sweet my tongue, remind me of childhood for Mama Kemi’s stall.

I use the wrapper wey near, just squat beside War General, carry one puff-puff put for mouth under his nose.

Yes, na that taste.

Since I dey sick, doctors no gree make I chop, say e no good for my belle and no good for my health.

I don dey crave this thing since.

War General dey look me, shock, as I dey chop one by one from offering table.

“Ah… Your Highness… Your Highness get good appetite o…”

I wave hand, still dey chew. “I just dey crave am.”

“Little uncle like puff-puff too?”

Yes, na the Queen younger brother, my brother-in-law, General Seyi.

Seyi scratch head, shy. “I just hungry.”

I nod. This guy big, dey hungry quick, dey train soldiers everyday. No easy.

So I just carry the whole plate of puff-puff, plus one plate of chin-chin.

“Chop.”

Seyi look happy. “This… this no too proper o.”

My leg don dey pain me from squatting, so I just sit for ground. “Chop. I just ask Oba Papa, he no go vex for us.”

I just dey sit, dey chop, dey look my own burial mat.

Omo, see as e be?

Still dey work for kingdom after all this wahala.

From time to time, I dey hear small laughter wey the elders try hide; na so small happiness dey enter mourning.

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