Chapter 2: Sacrifice and Survival

Form master, as if he see weapon, say I don miss class too much, wan persuade me make I drop out.

As we dey talk, Mr. Eze waka enter, face hard. He shake head, "This your boy no dey come class again. We go give am expulsion." He dey talk like person wey dey announce bad news for radio. My mama shock, hands dey shake. Me, I dey freeze, no fit talk.

My mama fear as she hear expel. For her, to drop out na to lose future.

She just fall for ground, grab her wrapper tight. Her mouth dey tremble, "Abeg, no expel my pikin-o! I go die!" Her eye red, tears dey flow. For our house, school na the only hope. If I drop out, na wahala, na disgrace. Her own life dream go waka comot. She dey beg like say her own spirit dey for my body.

Her wrapper nearly loose for waist, sweat mix with dust for her face. She kneel, voice dey shake like generator wey fuel wan finish. In front of everybody, my mama just kneel down dey beg form master make he cancel the expel letter.

She forget herself, fall down for assembly ground, knee touch rough cement. She dey beg, "Abeg, abeg, cancel am. Give am one more chance. I go make sure say he change." People begin gather. Some dey whisper, some dey shake head. But my mama no send. She dey wipe tears with back of hand, voice hoarse, "Na only am I get. No kill my hope."

That moment, I see my strong mama humble herself, show her weakest side. I know say no be say she weak, na because her weakness dey my body.

My mama wey dey always stand like iroko for market, wey dey quarrel for bus stop, now dey beg, dey cry. Her wrapper dey drag for ground, leg dirty, eyes swollen. I dey look am, heart dey cut. Na my own fault bring her down. That shame heavy pass any cane or punishment.

Plenty people gather, dey watch, dey point finger, dey talk say I deserve am, say I no get respect, anything wey happen to me dey alright…

I fit hear the whispers, "See as she dey disgrace herself for that stubborn boy." Some dey point finger, dey gossip, "Na so so wahala this family dey bring." Others just dey look, dey judge. My own classmates dey mock me codedly. For their mind, I deserve am. I dey feel their eyes press me down like hot iron.

Form master no gree, my mama run go car, carry some live chicken, force am for his hand: “Na our farm chicken be this, e sweet well, abeg try am… abeg, cancel the expel, make he still dey school. Even if you put am outside class, e no matter. I promise, he go behave…”

My mama no give up. She rush go old Toyota at the gate, bring out two live chicken, hold them tight, feathers scatter. She push them for Mr. Eze hand, "Oga, abeg, manage this chicken, na the best for our farm. I dey beg, cancel the expel." Her voice dey tremble, her hand dey shake, but she no care. She talk, "Even if you make am sweep class, carry water, I no go vex. Just let am stay. I go monitor am well."

But maybe the rope no strong—some chicken escape, begin run everywhere.

As she dey drag the chicken, one rope cut. The chicken jump, run under teachers’ car, dey scatter feathers. Some students begin shout, "Catch am! Catch am!" Another teacher dodge, shoe nearly fly. The drama scatter everywhere. I just stand, dey watch as the matter dey mess up. Even small boys dey laugh, dey point. My shame increase.

One chicken run enter principal office, principal shout, "Who bring farm animal come school?" Crowd burst laugh.

More teachers and students gather, dey watch the drama.

Na so crowd gather—market woman style. Teachers dey talk, "See wahala!" Students dey use phone snap, dey record video. Laughter, shout, noise everywhere. One teacher try catch chicken, e slip, e nearly fall. My mama still dey beg, "Abeg, abeg!" Na pure Nollywood scene. My leg dey weak.

All of them, with their cold eye and pride, just dey press me down, all to protect the couple wey dem like.

Nobody show pity. Dem just dey look, dey form strong face. E be like say all of them happy to see my family fall. As if na me be the sacrifice for Ifeoma and Chukwudi happiness. My mind dey ask, "Na so life be? Na my own pain go give dem peace?" Shame full ground, my own heart dey break.

Last last, maybe form master fear wahala, he gree for my mama.

After all the noise, after chicken wahala, Mr. Eze finally look my mama, nod head, talk, "Okay, we go try. But make sure say e no repeat." E collect chicken, hand still dey shake. Everybody begin disperse, some dey clap, some dey hiss. I just dey, no fit raise head.

I return to that classroom—the one wey give me pain, wey I try run from many times. But because of my mama, I go back, even if e go kill me.

Next morning, I wear uniform, iron am well. I comb hair, tie tie neat. My heart dey beat fast, hand dey sweat. As I waka enter class, everywhere quiet. Some people dey look me like ghost. I no send, I just remember my mama. Na for her sake I dey try.

Vex catch me, I rush go front of class, look everybody, bend down for form master, tears dey fall: “Sorry sir, I disturb you. Sorry, na my fault, sorry…”

Before Mr. Eze talk, I waka front, bend down full, tears dey drop. My voice crack, "Sir, sorry. I no wan disturb. Sorry for all my wahala. I promise, e no go happen again." People dey look, some dey laugh small. My own pride scatter, but I no care. My mama face dey my mind.

I dey bend, dey cry, tears dey drop for floor.

I no fit hold am. Real tears, no be film. My body dey shake. I dey hear sniffle for back. One or two girls dey pity, but most just dey stone face. I just dey, dey pour my own sorry for ground. For my mind, if na this go bring peace, I ready.

Inside me, I know say no be only regret and sorry dey make me cry, na shame and feeling of not being enough dey finish me.

As I dey cry, memory dey flash—birthday party, mama for ground, chicken wahala, Ifeoma and Chukwudi dey laugh for front. I dey feel empty, like person wey no get place for world. My own tears dey burn, no be ordinary.

After that, my babe still no gree break up. But for front of people, she no dey near me again. She tie me for her side, but still dey far from me.

When we waka together, she go make sure say hand no touch. For class, she no dey call my name again. But if I message her for night, she go reply sharp sharp. Our friendship dey drag, love dey hide. Na like say rope tie us, but gap full ground. My own mind no fit rest.

Even as I dey class, every lesson, morning and night reading, prep, na to dey look my babe and her new seatmate dey read, dey help each other, dey talk dey laugh.

For every lesson, I go dey back, dey see Ifeoma and Chukwudi dey bend head together, dey share biro, dey check answer. Sometimes, dem go laugh, touch hand small. I dey look, my heart dey bleed. Teachers go praise dem, "Una dey ginger class!" My own presence na like stone—nobody notice am.

Morning and night reading dey pain me pass—all na torture.

Bell go ring for night prep, everywhere dark, but their voice dey ring. I dey try focus for book, but every time I hear, "Ifeoma, you sabi am!" or "Chukwudi, you sharp!" My head go scatter. I go press pen, write, erase, nothing dey enter. My own wahala just dey pile up, no relief.

I go dey watch two of them dey recite, dey shout, dey praise each other: “Wow, you sabi am fast!”

Dem dey compete, dey answer question, dey do quiz for fun. Ifeoma go clap, "You too much!" Chukwudi go reply, "You sef na boss." Their chemistry dey obvious. Sometimes, classmates go join, dey shout, dey hail them. Me, I go just pack book, pretend say I dey serious, but my mind dey fly.

For night prep, their voice dey loud. Any teacher wey dey supervise go praise them say dem dey ginger class.

Aunty Ngozi, maths teacher, go smile, "I like una spirit! Keep am up." Sometimes, dem go even call two of them to come teach one small topic for class. Everybody dey look, dey happy. I dey feel like person wey lose election for own family house.

Dem dey close, dey blend, dey depend on each other. Teachers and classmates dey happy, as if na only who dey inside relationship matter if e good or bad…

People dey use their closeness do example. "See how teamwork be." Nobody dey ask if the matter sweet me or pain me. For their eye, if two star dey shine together, the world go better. But for my own spirit, na darkness dey increase. I dey question my own worth.

Me, I just dey manage myself, dey cram vocabulary, economics, government, poetry, history… alone.

Every night, I go dey press phone light under duvet, dey cram long list of vocab, dey read summary for economics, dey copy poetry stanza, dey write government facts. My own voice no dey echo. I dey try, but na struggle. Sometimes, I dey pray make morning no come. Nobody dey check my book, nobody dey ask, "You dey okay?" My only company na my pain.

For weekend, my babe still dey waka with me, dey gist, sometimes carry book say make we read together, make I recite for her.

Weekend time, after class, Ifeoma go call me, "Make we walk small." She go bring her note, say, "Help me recite this poem." For small time, e go feel like old days—our own world. My heart go melt, but the pain still dey under.

But every time, she go mention the guy. Any small talk, na him matter she dey bring up…

If I talk, "You sabi this maths?" She go say, "Chukwudi teach me yesterday." If I say, "You see that film?" She go reply, "Chukwudi talk say…" E be like say e no fit pass three sentences without mention am. My own spirit dey tire. I dey feel like third wheel for my own love.

She no fit help am, every few sentence na him she dey talk about, as if she must mention am every few steps.

E be like say she no dey notice. If we waka, na Chukwudi gist full ground. Even if we talk about food, she go say, "Chukwudi like suya." My heart dey break, but I no fit vex openly. I just dey answer short-short.

Maybe she no go ever know say my heart don full with wounds, and she dey pour salt for all of dem.

She dey talk, dey smile, dey happy. She no sabi say every word dey cut me deeper. My mind dey play memory—how we start, how everything change. I dey wonder if na me be problem, if na me no dey enough. Pain dey hide under my laugh.

I dey feel pain, but I no talk, I no show am.

I just dey act, dey smile, dey nod. If she ask, "You dey okay?" I go say, "I dey fine." But inside, my mind dey shout. I dey pray make she notice, but I no fit talk am.

I dey act like nothing dey happen—cool and calm.

My face dey calm, like person wey dey play chess. Even my guys dey say, "O boy, you too strong." But na only me sabi say na mask I wear. I dey hide my tears under my smile, dey wait for better day.

The more she dey happy dey talk about am, the more I dey cold.

My answer dey short—one word, half smile. My laugh no get joy. If she talk too much about Chukwudi, I go just switch topic. My heart dey freeze, dey build wall wey I no fit climb. Love dey change, cold dey enter.

Sometimes I go talk, “Una two dey try, I dey envy una. Both of una sabi. Just make sure say e no affect una book…”

Sometimes I go talk am, voice low, like joke. "I envy you and Chukwudi. Una sabi book! Just make sure say una dey read." She go laugh, shake head. I go smile, but my eye no dey smile. Sometimes, she go try hold my hand, I go pull away small. Na coded pain wey I no fit shout.

This one wey no clear, no pure, just drag for long, and as I dey try adapt—

Everyday na the same. No change, no better. I dey try adapt, dey manage pain, dey hope say one day things go return back. But my heart dey know say e no sure.

One night, she just get sense, send me message: “How we take reach like this?”

For night, I dey hostel, phone vibrate. I see her message, "How we take reach like this?" My heart skip. Na first time she ask deep question. My hand dey shake as I dey type reply.

I begin think. True, how we reach here?

I drop phone, close eye, dey think. My mind dey travel—first day we meet, first time we laugh, first time we quarrel. I dey wonder, "Who spoil the matter? Who start am?" My chest dey heavy.

She send another message: “Maybe, years from now, if we look back, we go regret.”

She send again, "Maybe, years from now, if we look back, we go regret." As I read "regret," cold just pass my body. E be like say she dey see inside my mind. I dey read am over and over, tears gather for my eye.

As I see that ‘regret’, sharp pain just cut my chest.

My chest tight, my mind dey shout, "No be only me dey suffer." That word "regret" dey ring for ear. I dey remember everything—pain, happiness, confusion. My head full.

E be like say both of us know how the matter go end, but nobody wan take first step to fix am.

Both of us dey wait, dey dodge, dey hope say another person go break the silence. But nobody gree. Na fear hold us. We dey suffer, but we no fit free ourselves.

No be this kind regret na human being dey cause?

Na human being dey build wall, dey cause pain, dey allow pride spoil love. I dey think, maybe if we just talk, things go better. But silence dey heavy pass stone.

As I think am, I reply: “Make we go out together during New Yam Festival break.”

I finally type, "Make we go out together during New Yam Festival break." Na my last hope. Maybe if we waka, talk, see river, sun go shine again for us. Ifeoma reply quick, "Okay."

I close eye, dey replay memory for my head.

I close eye, memory begin play—like film. How we start, how joy sweet us, how pain enter. My mind dey jump from day to day, from laughter to tears.