Swapped on My Wedding Day: My Sister Stole My Groom / Chapter 2: Water Don Pass Garri
Swapped on My Wedding Day: My Sister Stole My Groom

Swapped on My Wedding Day: My Sister Stole My Groom

Author: Christopher Bates


Chapter 2: Water Don Pass Garri

The cold river water swallowed me at once. My mouth and nose fill with icy water, and I sank deeper. River cold pass harmattan breeze, my teeth dey knock, water dey enter my ear, my wrapper dey drag me down.

E be like the river dey pull me, dey drag me enter belle, like spirit dey inside. All my body dey heavy, cold chop my skin.

“Ah! Quick, save her!”

Voices dey scatter for air, panic everywhere. One mama for canoe dey shout, her wrapper nearly fall as she dey point. The sound dey echo for my ear, but the water dey block everywhere.

People on the canoe started shouting and screaming, their voices echoing in my ears. Then I heard another big splash—someone else had fallen in.

The splash loud reach my bone. I open my eye small, still dey struggle. My mind dey wonder who jump enter like say dem be fish.

At first, I panicked. But soon, my survival instinct kicked in, and I remembered how to swim. I quickly made my way towards the canoe.

As my head pop up, na cough full my mouth. I dey try hold myself—wetin dem go talk if eldest Okafor pikin just drown like chicken?

As soon as my head came out of the water, I saw a familiar figure in black swimming straight towards me.

Hope rush me. Na only Tunde get that kind shoulder, the way e dey paddle—my heart start to beat with small hope, say maybe e go come.

Hope shone in my eyes. I stretched out my hand, weakly calling, “Tunde…”

My voice crack like dry stick. My hand dey shake, water drip from my fingers. Inside my mind, I dey beg, "God, abeg, let am see me."

But the man swam right past me like I wasn’t even there, not even a glance in my direction.

E pain me reach bone. For that moment, even my spirit freeze. E pass slap. I remember when we dey small, na me and Tunde dey always swim together—now, e no even see me.

My hand just hung there, frozen. E be like say na stone dey my palm. I no fit move.

I could only watch as Tunde, looking anxious, swam to my half-sister, Ifeoma.

He dey rush reach her, like say na angel he dey go meet.

He carried Ifeoma in his arms and took her to shore.

For village, when man carry woman like that—eyah, e mean say e ready to fight for her. People for bank dey shout, dey point.

Feeling the way she was shivering in his arms, he paused to comfort her: “Ifeoma, no fear. I dey here for you.”

Na so he dey pet am, voice soft like say na egg dey him hand. "No fear, Ifeoma, I no go let anything do you."

The thing shock me so much, I even forgot to paddle.

If say na film, dem for say I pause the story. I just float there, water dey pull my wrapper, but my mind no dey river again.

I just watched as my own fiancé left me behind and went to save my younger sister.

Na for that moment, I see everything clear. No be me him dey see.

Before they even reached the canoe, Tunde had already wrapped his own agbada tightly around her.

The white cloth cover her body, even her hair. E be like say na festival masquerade.

Because the canoe was small, nobody brought house helps, and none of those pampered young men and women dared to jump in to save me.

People just dey hold their chest, dey point, dey whisper, nobody get mind enter water. Some dey look as if say their mama born dem with golden spoon.

In the end, I had to climb back onto the canoe by myself.

As I dey drag myself, the wooden edge scrape my knee. I no even send; shame and anger just dey burn me inside.

I was dripping wet from head to toe, my long hair sticking all over my skin.

Water drip from my eyelashes. My slippers waka go one side. People just dey look—some pretend say dem no see, but I catch their eye for corner.

It was dry season, and my thin clothes, now soaked, hid nothing. My red slip underneath was showing faintly.

I try use hand hold wrapper, but water no gree. E show pass wetin I bargain for. Even small pikin wey dey play stone notice.

Some of the young men nearby were giving me funny looks, their eyes lingering too long.

Dem dey toast me with eye, mouth dey sharp, some dey whistle softly. Village boys dey get big mouth, but small courage.

One ajebo boy near coconut tree holla, “This Amaka get body o!” Some begin laugh, some dey bite their finger. Na so rumor dey start.

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