Chapter 6: Coconut Cake and Heavy Memories

First day wey Musa come back from work, I wait for am for door with lantern. The green government cloth wey he wear make am look like iroko tree—straight and proud. He hold my hand, give me one box of coconut cake from Mama Kemi shop for south city.

Musa waka like person wey just win chieftaincy title. My heart sweet me as I see am. The coconut cake soft, still dey warm, aroma dey fill our parlour. I touch the box, remember when I first chop that cake—na Musa buy am when we no get shishi, just to cheer me up.

“See wetin I bring come for you!”

Royal Palace dey for north, but the cake still warm. Ordinary baker no fit reach palace people, but na these ones I like pass. Or maybe, na the way he dey remember me I like pass.

I chop the cake small, the taste carry me go back to childhood—when I dey jump gutter, leg dey dirty, but joy full everywhere. Sometimes, love dey hide inside small gesture, no be only for big thing.

Musa like gist me about him day—wetin he do, wetin he see for palace. I like as person dey listen to me, so even though I sabi palace more than am, I dey pretend say I dey hear am well.

I dey nod head, dey smile, dey throw small question: "So that big man for palace, na true say him nose big pass yam?" Musa go laugh, go explain as if na me be stranger for palace.

“The palm trees for palace fine no be small. I know say you like am. If chance show, I go carry you go see am! Palace get one cat, the cat dey form. Guess wetin? Today e come dey play with me! And, and…”

He dey use hand describe the cat tail, dey form drama. I dey watch am, dey pretend say I never see the cat before. For Musa, na new world. For me, na memory.

Musa dey try paint palace life for my mind, but as he dey talk, he see as my face dey pale.

“Temi, wetin dey do you?”

He drop the box, look me steady. I wan talk, but my chest dey heavy. Sometimes, old wound dey bleed when person no expect.

“You like palm tree? For future, I go plant am everywhere for your palace, you hear?”

I wan laugh, but tears dey threaten my eye. Musa no sabi say na for palm tree shadow I use hide before, na that same tree I dey fear now.

“That palace cat dirty—Temi, no touch am!”

I nod, dey hide my pain, but my mind dey far.

“Okay, if Temi beg me, I go help you hide the cat!”

I smile, try cover up, but Musa dey look me with worry.

“Temi, when I climb throne, I go…”

The words hang for air, like fowl wey no fit fly again.

…

All those old talk come rush back, last last turn to that cold command: “I go handle am.”

Palace memory dey stubborn; sometimes, even sweet gist fit open old scar. I dey try laugh, but the voice of old king just dey ring for my head.

As Musa dey look me, worry dey for him face. I force myself smile. “Nothing, I just taya small.”

I for like make my smile sweet like sugar, but e bitter. Musa just hold me, no talk.

Musa look me, then just carry me hug.

Him hug tight, like say if he loose, I go waka disappear. E dey gentle, e dey strong, na only Musa fit hold person like that.

“Temi, you no dey happy. Since we come here, your smile don disappear. Give me small time—I go beg His Majesty make I resign, make we move. If you no like here, we no go stay, okay?”

Him voice dey steady, but e get small pain inside. For my heart, hope small begin dey grow. Maybe, just maybe, peace fit come again.

Him talk give me small hope. I hold am tight too.

I hold Musa sotey my own arm dey pain. “You no dey ever gree leave me. Even when wahala dey, you dey stand.” Tears just dey hide for my eye, but I press am back.

“Musa, Musa!”

I call him name soft soft, as if I dey beg God make everything just good for once.