Chapter 7: The Swollen Belly

After everywhere quiet for some time, he look me. "Chinedu, go lift the white cloth wey cover your sister-in-law."

Everybody dey silent. Even lizard for ceiling stop to move. I dey shiver as I waka go, sweat dey my back even as cold dey blow.

I brace myself, waka go. As I lift the cloth, na so I see say my sister-in-law belle—wey flat that morning—don swell like balloon.

My hand dey shake. I almost drop the cloth. Her belle big, round, the kind wey you no fit explain. For my mind, I dey pray make e just be bad dream. But the thing dey real, as real as palm oil stain for white cloth.

Baba Afolabi quick shift back two steps. He squeeze out some words from between him teeth: "If na God cause am, fit forgive. But if na your own hand cause am, nobody fit help."

His eyes red, his mouth tight. He dey look my mama, but e dey talk to all of us. For this kind matter, na only God fit judge.

My mama wan talk, maybe explain, but Baba Afolabi wave her off. "No talk again. I no go put mouth for this matter at all."

Mama mouth hang open, tears dey her eyes. But she lock am, turn face. Baba Afolabi voice no get space for beg. Even elders for outside dey shift leg.

Then he turn to me. "Chinedu, abeg see me off."

He no wait for answer. He just waka, I rush follow am. Everybody for house dey watch, silence heavy like rain cloud.

I take deep breath, follow Baba Afolabi outside.

The air outside dry, harmattan breeze dey cut my ear. I dey hear frog croak from far, as if night dey try talk to me.