Gold Under My Mother’s Grave / Chapter 1: The Subtitles No Lie
Gold Under My Mother’s Grave

Gold Under My Mother’s Grave

Author: Sonya Arnold


Chapter 1: The Subtitles No Lie

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I just dey ready put my hand inside the box when, from nowhere, some floating subtitles hang for my front:

[This poor babe no even know say her papa and mama hide gold for ground, bury am for land wey dey behind her house.]

[I hear say na the babe fiancé arrange that land secretly to give his real madam.]

[Na true talk, the guy fold that paper into triangle so that his main woman go pick am. The babe just dey suffer.]

My hand dey shake small as I try hide my face, but nobody seem notice. I look down, confused.

True true, one paper wey them fold like triangle dey inside the wooden box.

The hot morning air for Palm Grove village just thick with wahala, even my shadow sef no fit stay straight for ground. I look round, as if somebody fit see the subtitles hovering for my front. My chest dey rise and fall, small sweat dey my upper lip, but na confusion full my head.

1

[Abeg, no spoil am for me, I just start to dey watch.]

[Why the babe dey look? Why she never pick her own?]

Wetin dey happen like this?

As I still dey stand there dey wonder, the other villagers wey dey line up to draw lots begin complain:

"Which kind delay be this? We dey draw or we no dey draw?"

"Abeg, make you hurry up! People still dey wait."

Their voices dey sharp, some people even hiss, shift leg for sand as the sun begin burn harder. One small pikin even tug him mama wrapper say, "Mama, make she quick now, na garri time."

The mama slap the pikin hand: "Quiet! You wan chop slap?"

No time to reason whether those subtitles na real or fake.

Confused, I just grit my teeth, reach inside and grab the triangular paper.

The village chief open the paper and read am loud:

"Ngozi’s family, plot number 5."

The chief voice deep, like thunder, echo for the open field. People begin murmur.

My heart begin beat like talking drum. Sweat drip for my back, my wrapper dey stick to my leg.

Plot number 5—

Na the land wey dey directly behind my house,

The same one wey those subtitles talk say gold dey inside.

[Wetin be this?]

[How the babe take pick am? She don wake up? Abi na another life she dey so?]

[Hmm, this second round, the story go change?]

Some elders for the back shake head, some women just dey whisper for ear, like people dey watch film for open air. Na real suspense dey everywhere.

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