Chapter 6: Family Reunion

I call my mama.

My hand dey shake as I dial. For years, pride no gree me call her, but this time, shame no dey do me again.

We never talk for years, but as I call, she pick immediately.

Her voice soft, like person wey dey pray. I fit hear background sound—generator dey hum, maybe she dey home.

Tears just dey rush from my eyes.

As I try talk, my throat block. I just dey sob. The pain for my chest dey release small small.

For my last life, from when I leave house after uni till the day I die, I no ever talk to my mama again.

All my stubbornness, all my pride, na regret full my heart now. I dey wish say I fit hug her that time.

I no fit imagine the pain she feel when she hear say I die.

She go hear from police, from hospital, from newspaper. Na real wahala for her heart.

This time, I just wan be my mama’s baby girl.

No more forming strong head. I wan return to my real home, where love dey ground.

"...E good say you dey come house. E good say you dey come house."

Her voice dey shake, but I fit feel her joy. She no ask me question, no dey blame. Only prayer dey her mouth.

My mama voice dey shake, last last, na just those four words she fit talk.

Na the same word she repeat, like say e dey heal both of us.

Soon, I board flight go Abuja.

I buy first class ticket, for the first time in years. I sit by window, dey watch cloud, dey pray make new life start.

Before I enter plane, I check Facebook, see say Amarachi don drop another fake emotional post:

[Sorry everybody, I go pause writing for now. All these things wey happen don tire me. Ifeoma na senior wey I always respect. I need time to rest.]

She dey form victim, try win sympathy. Her fans dey send virtual hug, dey drag me join. Na so dem dey do for social media.

My old editor Kamsi quick repost:

[Fans, abeg, give Amarachi time to bring better books. Next month, we go do fan meet for Abuja. Everybody dey welcome!]

Clear say dem dey try boost Amarachi shine.

All na PR stunt. Make people forget say I exist, make Amarachi trend more.

I just sigh, off my phone, sleep.

I hug my travel pillow, let sleep carry me far from wahala. I dey dream of new beginning.

As I land, my mama dey wait with driver and security men for black Prado jeep.

Na like governor pikin I dey feel. Her hand wave, smile wide as I come down. I fit smell her perfume before I even hug her.

She say she hear everything wey happen, don dey arrange with her people to do PR and call lawyer.

Her phone dey ring, her PA dey follow her. She no let any detail pass her by. Na real Igbo woman wey sabi business.

"We go carry this case reach the end. I no go ever let my pikin suffer."

She rub my back as she talk, her voice full of promise. I feel peace, like small pikin wey dem just give biscuit.

I just lie down for my mama lap, as she dey rub my back, rest her chin on my head.

Her wrapper dey smell of dusting powder and fried onions, the kind hug wey dey drive fear comot. Her wrapper soft, her palm cool. My body dey relax for the first time in years. Na so tears dey my eye, but na tears of relief.

The car full with correct food and all my favourite drinks.

Meat pie, chinchin, Maltina, even small fried snail dey inside cooler. My mama no dey slack when e reach care.

My mama don prepare since I call her, no wan make I hungry.

She even bring my old teddy bear, the one wey I forget for primary three. I laugh as I see am.

I hug her tight.

The hug long, like say I dey try join two broken heart together. Na real homecoming.

"No worry, Mama. No be thing wey worth to stress."

I dey smile, but I still dey pain small. But na so e be—family first.

I smile. "Very soon, the real thief go collect her own."

My mama just nod, her eyes shine. She know say karma no dey rush, but e sure.