Buried Daughter, Unfinished Hide-and-Seek / Chapter 5: The Game We Played
Buried Daughter, Unfinished Hide-and-Seek

Buried Daughter, Unfinished Hide-and-Seek

Author: Timothy Perry


Chapter 5: The Game We Played

Next day.

Sun never rise finish, my wife wake everybody. She cook tea for children, make sure they bath and dress sharp. I dey watch am, my mind dey turn.

Me and my wife pack as normal.

She arrange the small bags for parlour, even wrap bread with old newspaper. She dey act like everything dey normal, but her eye dey sharp, dey look my move.

Keke and her brother dey happy, dey run up and down, dey try put their toys inside bag.

Keke carry her doll, dey hug am tight. Her brother dey drag toy car, dey chase am for corridor. That kind happiness wey only pikin fit show.

When time reach, Morayo give me eye signal.

I know wetin e mean. My hand dey cold. I look Keke, she dey laugh with her brother, no know wetin dey plan for am.

I understand, but my mind no still settle. I waka go meet my daughter.

She dey play with chalk for floor, draw circle for ground. I squat near am, touch her shoulder. My voice low so her brother no go suspect.

"Keke, daddy don tire for packing. Make we play hide-and-seek."

I try smile, but my face stiff. Keke look me, eyebrow raise small.

My daughter no too like hide-and-seek, she just mumble, "I no wan play. I wan pack my things."

Her voice small, she twist her mouth. I know say she dey suspect something.

At that moment, my son join mouth: "I wan play hide-and-seek. Sister, abeg play with me."

He dey jump up and down, clap hand. Na so Keke look her brother, then look me. She no fit refuse am, as her brother always dey beg her.

I no dey play with the children steady; my son really wan make I play with them.

True talk. Most times, I dey work. This one na rare moment. My son dey happy say daddy dey join.

Because her brother beg, Keke gree at last.

She smile small, stand up. Her hand still hold her doll, she look me with hope.

So I pretend say I dey play with the two of them.

I shout, "Who go hide? Who go find?" My son laugh, say he go be police, Keke go be thief. Small happiness dey her face.

Until Morayo give me another signal say packing don finish, we fit move.

She stand for kitchen door, wipe her hand for wrapper. Our bag dey ready. She give me sharp look, na time.

I know say na time.

For my mind, prayer dey run. "God, abeg, forgive us."

"Last round. This time, na sister go hide. Me and your brother go find you. Keke, hide well o."

I force laugh, but my voice dey shake. My son dey clap, Keke just nod her head, small fear for her eyes.

My wife sef join mouth: "No worry, I sabi where you fit hide well for this hide-and-seek. Nobody go find you, Keke. Come, make I show you."

Morayo voice dey sweet, like person wey dey play with pikin. Keke dey follow her, no suspect anything.

My wife carry my daughter go the small store room.

She hold Keke hand, lead her gently. I dey behind, my leg heavy.

Only me and Morayo know say for under the storeroom, cellar dey.

The entrance dey hide behind broken chair. Na old secret wey my papa pass give me, say make I no tell anybody except my own wife.

The cellar na my great-grandpapa dig am many years ago, for keep food if hunger come. As life better, nobody dey use am again.

The walls dey damp, cobweb everywhere. Only cockroach dey waka for corner.

Inside the cellar, one big iron wardrobe dey. E don dey there since I small.

The iron wardrobe big like coffin, iron strong. My papa say na from railway yard dem buy am that time.

The wardrobe strong and heavy, na like three or five people fit carry am. The door be like iron block; small pikin no fit open am.

The lock dey for middle, big padlock, key dey hard to turn. Even me, I dey struggle to open am sometimes.

As Morayo dey carry Keke go down, I see say she hold padlock.

Her hand dey shake small, but her face still dey hard. She tell Keke say, "Hide inside, no let your brother find you." Keke dey giggle, no know.

Her chest stuck like eba when water finish—she no fit move. The father hesitate, wipe sweat from brow, before locking the iron wardrobe.

Small time.

The silence heavy for the air. I hear Keke voice inside, "Daddy, I dey hide now!" Morayo close the wardrobe, lock am, stand up. She squeeze my hand tight, her own hand cold.

Morayo come up from cellar.

Her face no show anything, but I see tear for her eye. She close the cellar entrance, arrange slab back. We no talk.

Na only she waka come.

I stay for back, listen for small voice. No sound. I tell myself say e don finish.

That night, we go meet community elders, talk say our daughter miss.

We dey kneel down for ground, Morayo dey cry, I dey act like man wey don lose pikin. The elders dey shake head, dem pray for us, say God go bring Keke back.

That time, people dey kidnap children anyhow, and as Morayo cry for front of the elders, nobody suspect us.

Dem call vigilante, search bush, but nobody find Keke. Everybody pity us.

Twenty years waka pass like that.

Sometimes, her brother go ask, "Where Keke dey?" We go say, "She don go visit aunty for Port Harcourt." Life just move.

We go the old house sometimes, but me and Morayo no ever talk about am.

Even if we pass cellar, we no ever look that side. Our heart dey block.

We no even check cellar.

Na taboo for us. We just act like nothing dey there.

This time, because of my son wedding, I must go there.

The fear grip me, but my son happiness dey my mind.

"You hear wetin the baba talk about 'dead suppose dey buried'? E mean say because Keke no dey buried, baba fit sense am. I go bury her for our family land. Make she rest, so e no go affect our son wedding."

I dey pray say after this, peace go return to our house.

Morayo talk: "True, go now. Nothing suppose spoil our son wedding."

She dey tie her wrapper, no look my face. For her eye, I see relief. We just want close this chapter.

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