Chapter 3: Market Gist and Old Enemies

Musa pass exam na better news, but my mind still dey shake. Three years ago, after I fake my death commot palace, news spread quick say na fake princess dey there. That same year, the real princess, Aisha, enter palace back.

You know as village gist dey fly! People dey talk for market, “That fake princess wey dey do shakara don run. Real blood don show!” E pain me, but I try ignore. Musa just dey drag me go market, dey say, “No mind dem, Temi. Na so life be.” But inside me, fear dey boil.

When I hear am, I dey sell painting with Musa. We dey sell painting, smell of fried yam and ogiri dey everywhere. I shock small, but I soon begin laugh as Musa dey argue old grammar with people. Our peaceful life no last. Not long after, I see wanted poster from new King, Farouk.

My hand dey shake as I see my face for cheap paper. I dey wait for heart to stop, but Musa just tear the paper, use am clean paint brush, like say e no mean anything. But my body dey cold, like fish wey just commot for river.

My head spin, everywhere dark. I no believe say dem wan wipe me commot like that. I dey plan to find excuse run, but na Musa first come meet me, say make we go back him village school, ask if I go follow am. I no fit ask for better thing.

E just talk am for low voice, “Temi, you wan follow me? I fit hide you, we go live for school, dey teach small children. No need to fear.” For that moment, na real family I see for him eyes.

So I hide for one far town for three years. When Musa go capital for exam, na then I fit come outside small.

For that three years, I dey live like shadow, but peace still dey my heart. For Musa side, even when palm oil finish, joy no dey far. Every morning, na fresh breeze and bird song dey wake me, no be palace wahala.