Chapter 8: Outside the Door

Mama dey live for fine place.

Small river dey front of house.

The water dey clear, e dey gurgle for morning like person wey dey pray. Sometimes, small children go throw stone inside, the fish go scatter.

Na there I see my small brother.

He dey try waka, but e leg still dey shake.

His hair dey curl, his face round. He get gap tooth, small dimple for cheek. I dey smile for him, even if he no sabi me.

As he wan fall, one soft hand catch am, gently talk:

“Chijioke, e pain you as you fall? Na floor cause am—make we scold am?”

Na Mama. My mind sweet me die.

Her voice soft, her laughter dey ring for air. I fit feel the love wey dey pour from her, like water wey overflow basin.

After so many years, I hear her voice again.

My spirit jump. The memory of her hug, the way she dey rub my back when I sick, rush come my mind.

Small white hair don show for her head, small wrinkle for her eye corner.

But she happy—more than before.

Her smile dey wide, her spirit dey fresh. I see say pain don shift, joy don settle for her house.

Na that time, Uncle come house. He carry Chijioke, kiss Mama.

He dey wear singlet, his face full with sweat and smile. When he hug Mama, she dey laugh, dey push him small, like two people wey dey play for night.

Mama full with happiness.

I happy for her, but e pain me small for inside.

I fit no dey part of this new world, but I dey glad say she find peace.

I stand for front of Mama, shy, talk:

“Mama, you fit hug Yanyan too…

Yanyan don reach nineteen this year.”

I look my small body, talk to myself, “Mama, I no grow, you fit still carry me.”

Even my voice dey tremble. Sometimes, I go wish say I fit be breeze, just touch her cheek, let her know say I still dey.

Of course, Mama no dey hear me. But Chijioke look my side.

He stretch hand, dey talk baby talk wey I no understand.

One big black dog stand for front of am.

The dog eye red, fur thick, tail dey wag slow. E dey sniff air, dey bark deep, like say e dey see wetin human eye no fit catch.

Mama smile, pinch Chijioke nose. “You this small pikin, you wan make your doggie uncle carry you?”

She tickle am, Chijioke go giggle, the dog go jump for front, dey bark like say e wan protect the house from shadow.

The big black dog dey look me, dey bark nonstop.

Uncle try hold am, but e no work.

The dog strong, e dey drag chain, e eyes dey follow me everywhere I waka. Even my spirit bone dey shake.

This dog wicked o.

I fear, but I remember say I come see Mama, so I bone, talk:

“I… I no fear you.”

I puff chest, dey act like say I be big spirit, but my leg dey shake.

Small small, Mama and Uncle face change.

Dem carry Chijioke, rush enter house, lock door sharp.

The fear for their eye clear, dem no even reason say na only animal dey bark for air.

I wan enter, but Jerusalem chain dey for door, e burn me.

The chain dey hot like pepper. I jump back, dey rub my spirit hand for air, tears dey my eye, but nobody fit see.

I just stand for door, lost, I no know wetin to do.

Night dey fall, frog dey croak for river, my own spirit cold pass anything.

That night, I wait tire, but Mama no open door.

I look the light wey dey shine behind the door, just dey quiet…

I dey hear the laughter, the clatter of spoon and plate, the soft lullaby Mama dey sing as she put Chijioke to sleep. My own spirit just dey hover for the corridor, dey wish say I fit touch door, dey wish say breeze fit carry me go inside.

Mosquito dey buzz for my ear, frog dey shout for riverbank. Sometimes, I go sit for doorstep, dey draw circle for sand, dey count how many breath I get left before morning. Na only star for sky dey keep me company. My hope dey fade, but I still dey wait—maybe by dawn, Mama go remember dream of me, or breeze go carry my whisper reach her ear. But even for spirit world, hope na stubborn thing. Maybe tomorrow go different.