Chapter 6: Homecoming

Third day after wedding, Ozioma too happy, wake early, dress fine, dey show herself to me.

Her wrapper tie well, ear ring dey shine, her skin dey glow like say she rub ori overnight. She even dey sing old Igbo song as she dey brush hair.

“I dey go see papa, mama, and brother. I too happy.”

Her voice sweet like agbalumo. I dey float for air, dey observe, dey jealous, dey vex.

“I dey wonder if dem miss me?”

She dey form innocence, but her eye dey twist like person wey get plan.

“Of course dem miss me—na only me be their daughter.”

She talk am loud, as if she dey declare for all spirit wey dey house.

“The only one.”

She smile, teeth dey shine. My spirit fit break mirror if I try punch am.

Jeep dey wait outside, driver dey wipe sweat, horn dey blow small. Na that kain marriage ride wey big family dey use show say dem get money. Timi stand for side, help her hold wrapper, even help arrange her shoe for leg. For that moment, e look like say him really dey care.

“You dey happy?” Timi ask like play.

His voice light, but eyes no dey smile reach deep. I dey study am—my hope still dey float.

“Of course! First time I never see them for this long—e dey somehow.”

She dey gist as if she dey complain, but na lie. She dey happy, her body dey bounce like squirrel.

She just dey talk all those small small things wey happen for my family—some, even me don forget.

She dey narrate all my childhood story—how I break mama plate, how brother carry me go fetch water, how papa dey call me ‘my gold.’

That time, I dey sickly, no dey go out, no like party, no get friends, na only Ozioma I dey yarn with for yard.

She dey use my story, dey garnish her own life. I dey look, dey wonder if na so person dey steal destiny.

I tell her everything—from mama best puff-puff to the flower brother bring for me when he travel.

That flower still dey inside old Bible for my room. I dey remember how I dey show Ozioma, dey tell her say e mean love.

All the gist, I give her.

Na my mistake. My heart dey too open. I never know say spirit dey keep record.

Who know say, na help I dey help her.

Life no balance. If to say person fit see tomorrow, I for lock my mouth.

Timi just dey listen, sometimes smile, but him mind no really dey there.

He dey nod, dey answer ‘ehn ehn’, but his eye dey outside window. I dey wonder wetin him dey think.

He always dey like that?

My mind dey ask—maybe I never really watch am well. Maybe Timi dey deeper than I know.

I no sure.

E be like say I never really sabi this my childhood friend.

For spirit world, time dey different. But even as I dey watch, my own memory dey fade, Ozioma own dey strong.

...

For chief house front, carriage slow down.

Wheel touch gravel, horse dey snort. Old house gate dey open, people dey wave. Na my papa compound, full of pride.

Curtain lift, one fine young face show.

Na my brother, Chuks. Him smile dey always warm. For that moment, my spirit rush, I dey hope say he go see me.

He smile well, joy full for him face.

He dey wave like say he never see me for ten years.

I shock—na…

Na me, Chika, dey shock say my own brother no fit see me. My spirit wan break.

“Brother!”

Ozioma, like bird wey see nest, jump go hug brother.

She dey jump, wrapper dey fly. Chuks catch her, laugh, call her ‘smallie’ like before.

He hold her, no vex, just dey protect her, fear say she go fall.

He rub her back, call her ‘my baby.’ I dey float near them, dey cry spirit tears.

“Small girl, you don marry, still dey play anyhow—how you take look like noble pikin?”

Chuks dey tease, but love full him voice. He dey pamper Ozioma, no suspect anything.

“Chika miss brother die. Where the hairpin you promise me? You no forget, abi?”

Ozioma dey ask sharp, voice high. She dey act my excitement perfect. Na so spirit dey behave if dem study you well.

“How I go forget? I make am since. I go give you soon.”

Brother hand enter pocket, e wink. I dey remember that promise—hairpin wey dey carry rabbit shape.

I just float for air, dey look all of them, my eyes dey pain me with longing.

My spirit dey weep. If to say tear dey drop for spirit, the whole compound for flood.

Brother still gentle—but no be me…

He dey treat Ozioma like say na real Chika. The pain dey deep—my own place no dey again.

“Cough, cough, cough.” I hear the cough wey I know well, look that side.

That cough na my papa own—deep, raspy, old. For my mind, I dey shout, ‘Papa!’

“Papa…” I float go meet am, dey call am.

I dey touch him agbada, dey beg make e look me. Nothing.

But papa just waka pass me, go meet Ozioma, dey complain, “Hmph, you only get eye for your brother.”

He dey pretend vex, but face dey soft. He dey use that him special voice wey dey melt my mama heart.

“No, I miss papa too! No vex for Chika.”

Ozioma dey shake him hand, dey smile. My papa dey try act hard, but e dey melt.

She just dey act like small pikin, dey shake papa arm, make papa want pamper her more.

She dey copy the way I dey behave when I want beg for new shoe. The thing dey pain me.

Papa laugh big laugh, but to me, e just dey pain my ear.

The laugh na thunder for my spirit ear. E mean say dem don forget me true true.

I want pull Ozioma hand from papa arm, make this spirit comot from my family.

I dey drag her, dey shout, but my hand just dey pass through her like breeze. Spirit frustration dey real.

“Papa, I dey here. Papa!”

I dey shout loud. If na real life, voice for scatter glass.

“She no be Chika. Na me be Chika. Papa, look me—I dey here!”

My spirit dey struggle, dey call, dey hope say papa spirit go answer.

But papa just look past me, look Timi, wey dey stand dey watch.

Timi eye dey sharp. E dey look Ozioma, dey study everybody. My spirit dey wonder—who be Timi for real?

“Thank you for taking care of Chika.”

Papa voice get gratitude, even small pride. He dey trust Timi pass government.

Timi nod. “Papa-in-law, no need thank me. Chika na my wife—I go always protect her.”

Timi own voice steady, promise dey inside. My spirit dey wish say na me e dey promise.

Papa happy, carry Timi enter house.

Papa hand big, dey clap Timi back. E be like say blessing dey flow. My own spirit dey cold for door.

As we enter yard, mama show.

Mama dey stand for front veranda, wrapper tie well, eyes red like person wey cry all night. My heart dey run.

Gentle, fine woman stand for veranda, her eyes full of hope.

Her hand dey shake small, but her smile dey stubborn. I dey float near, dey beg for mama touch.

Just one look, my heart cut.

If na real life, I for kneel, beg God make e turn things back.

My mama—she don slim.

Her cheekbones stand, eyes deep. I know say worry chop her.

She look tired.

Her back bend small, as if she dey carry load wey nobody fit see.

She must miss me well, dey fear say my husband people no like me, dey worry say I dey suffer where I go marry.

Na so my mama be—always dey worry for her own. My spirit wan hug her tight.

I try hug mama, but my hand just pass through her like night breeze. Spirit pain dey cold, e no get comfort.

I no fit hold myself, I rush go her—but she already dey hug Ozioma, dey smile.

She dey press Ozioma head to her chest, dey rub her back. My heart dey break piece by piece.

Her eyes just full of love.

Tears dey fall for her face, but na tears of happiness—she dey thank God say her pikin dey okay.

“Mama, Chika miss you die.”

Ozioma voice dey sweet, full of emotion. I dey cry inside.

“Good Chika, mama miss you too. Make mama look you well.”

Mama dey touch Ozioma face, dey check her cheek, dey search for sign of suffering. I dey wish say she go see something odd.

Mama dey touch Ozioma face, dey cry small.

Her tears dey fall, but she dey smile. Spirit pain dey bite me.

“Hope say you dey okay for Timi house? You no get wahala? Try learn from your mother-in-law. Timi dey busy, no disturb am too much.”

Na advice wey she dey give me since I dey small. Her own way of showing love.

“I hear, mama. I no dey disturb am. If you no believe, ask am.”

Ozioma dey act loyal, dey hold mama hand. My own spirit dey pray make mama see through the disguise.

She pull Timi sleeve, smile sweetly.

She dey do that small play wey I dey do when I want mama smile. I dey hope say Timi go talk something different.

Timi reply soft, greet mama. “Chika dey behave well. My papa and mama like her too.”

His voice dey soft, but for spirit ear, e sharp. I dey wonder if Timi dey pass message for back.

“That’s good, that’s good.”

Mama sigh, relief dey her voice. I dey wish say she fit see the truth.

Family sit for main hall, everywhere lively.

Fried plantain smell dey mix with egusi soup, laughter dey bounce for wall, generator hum dey background. The room warm, but my own spirit cold.

I just stand one side, dey watch, like say cold water pour me.

I dey float for corner, dey count my losses. Nobody dey see me, nobody dey hear me.

Nobody.

Nobody see say Ozioma no be me.

I dey cry, but spirit tear no dey stain cloth.

...

After food, brother bring out the wooden hairpin wey he carve for Ozioma. “See am, small rabbit.”

The wood still dey fresh, the edge smooth. I dey remember how I dey beg brother every night, dey praise him work. Now e dey another person hand.

Na the hairpin he dey talk.

E fit fit my hair perfect. My spirit dey ache.

My zodiac na rabbit, and I fair and quiet. Brother dey always call me ‘small rabbit.’

He dey joke, say na only rabbit dey quiet for bush, but get sense pass all the animal.

I beg brother for this hairpin since, dey praise am before he gree carve am for me.

E take am two months to finish am. Every day, I dey wait for porch, dey admire his handwork.

Now e dey Ozioma hair.

She pin am well, dey shake head, dey shine teeth. My pain no get measure.

I just dey look all their happy face till my eye begin pain me, tears just dey drop.

For spirit, e dey different. Pain just dey deep, dey wide. I wan shout, wan scatter table.

“Papa, mama, brother…”

I dey call all of them. My spirit dey yearn for touch, for hug, for smile.

“Abeg, see me too…”

Na only silence answer me. The pain cold, deep.

Ozioma dey make papa and mama laugh, dey play with brother, but still dey look me with eye like say she dey mock me.

Her eye dey sharp, mouth dey form small curve—like say she dey talk, ‘See your life.’

Like say: Stop to cry. Dem no fit see you.

Her smile dey carry mockery, her body language dey sing victory.

I no sure if na my mind, but I see Timi look over, dey follow Ozioma eye—almost catch my own.

For split second, his eye flash my way. I dey freeze—hope rise again.