Chapter 1: The Trip That Scatter Everything

For weeks, I dey count days with biro mark for wall, heart dey jump anytime I see calendar near Workers’ Day. I no fit sleep well, dey imagine how I go finally carry my eighty-year-old mama go Abuja for holiday. Every morning, as sun dey rise, I go check and re-check our plans. My neighbours dey see me dey rush up and down with list and jotter, dem go shout, "Ah-ah, Mama Kunle, na only Abuja you dey go like this?" One woman even shout, "Mama Kunle, you wan go find Abuja husband?" Everybody laugh, I just wave hand, "Abeg, na only holiday I dey go, no be honeymoon!" I go laugh with dem, but inside my mind, excitement and small fear dey drag. I no wan fall my own hand for this trip.

Who go believe say, just the night before our journey, na my daughter-in-law come scatter everything: "Mummy, abeg stay for house look after Dayo. I don already tell my own mama say we dey go Kaduna for the holiday."

She bounce enter, wrapper tight, eyebrow high like she dey ready for market fight. Her voice no get space for beg, na command full ground. Even Dayo wey dey play for floor pause, look up like say him sabi wahala dey land.

My hand freeze mid-air, socks still dey my palm. E be like say cold breeze just blow enter room. "But I tell everybody since last month say I go carry your grandma go watch the flag-raising for Workers’ Day."

My heart just sink. My hand dey shake small as I still hold the zip of my travel bag. The room suddenly quiet, except for the fan wey dey groan for ceiling. I look my daughter-in-law, dey hope say she go change her mind.

She just bone face. "Grandma don old—abeg, wetin she wan go see for there again? Besides, you be Dayo grandma. Na your work be that to look after am."

She talk am like say na small thing, like say my own plans nor matter. I try smile, but the thing nor reach my eyes. I remember how my own mother dey talk say, "Na woman pikin dey suffer pass for in-law house."

I stand my ground. "But I don promise your grandma already, and everything dey set—hotel, plane ticket, everything. When Sallah or Christmas reach, I go help you look after Dayo. You and your mama fit travel any time you want then, no wahala."

I dey try make peace, voice soft, but inside my chest dey drum. I even wan reach out hold her hand, but I know say this one don pass ordinary gist.

That one na like say I use stick scatter bee hive. Her face change quick, voice rise, "Haba! Na so? You sef no dey consider Dayo?" Even the air for parlour begin get hot, e dey heavy like harmattan.

My daughter-in-law no gree, she go drag my son come. "See your mama o."

She waka enter room, drag Kunle from inside, her voice loud so neighbours for corridor fit hear. Na so Kunle enter, shirt not well buttoned, face be like person wey dem wake from sleep or carry am commot from phone.

My son just frown. "At your age, you still dey run up and down to Abuja? You get boyfriend for there? You wan find new grandpa for Dayo?"

Kunle mouth sharp, like say na play, but the thing pain me reach bone. Even Dayo stop sucking him thumb, begin look all of us.

I shock. "Wetin you talk?"

My hand freeze, my heart dey beat fast. I never hear this kain from my own pikin before. The insult hit me like slap. My ear dey ring, my leg weak, I wan sit but pride no gree me.

My son just roll eye. "You sabi wetin I mean."

He just waka go one corner, arms folded, as if the matter nor concern am. The thing shock me so tey my mouth dry. For our place, pikin no suppose talk to mama like that, but city life don change many things.

I no wan quarrel before I travel, so I just carry my bag waka straight go my mama house. As I dey lock door, I hear my daughter-in-law hiss loud. The way my slippers drag for corridor, I nor care again. For my mind, I dey beg God make my leg no fail me, make shame no swallow me for road.

Who go believe say later that night, my son go drop payment request for family WhatsApp group, tag everybody: [Aunty Amaka, Aunty Bisi, Aunty Halima, why my mama go carry grandma go Abuja alone? Plane and hotel money—two hundred thousand naira each. Make una send am.]

Notifications dey burst my phone, voice notes dey fly like rain for rainy season. My sisters phone dey ring back-to-back, even my neighbor knock say, "Madam, wetin dey sup for una house?" The message just land for group like bomb, people begin dey type quick-quick. My sisters for different states dey call me, dey ask if I don see wetin Kunle do. Even my cousin wey dey UK send me voice note, say, "Na wetin dey sup for una family WhatsApp group?"

Night no let me rest, but I know say tomorrow wahala still dey wait.