Chapter 4: The Curse Deepens

After that, everything change for our family.

Air heavy, secret full everywhere. Neighbours dey waka pass our gate careful, chickens dey shout anyhow, dog dey cry for night. E be like say everybody dey wait for bad thing to land.

Dad and Grandma see say as dem vent anger for Mom, luck dey shine.

Dem begin count am like arithmetic. "We flog am last week, na so rain fall!" Grandma dey boast. Dad believe say na their right.

Drunken Dad break bottle for Mom head, next day win five hundred thousand for cards.

The gist spread for village. People dey come ask Dad for him secret, bring palm wine, kolanut. He go just laugh, dey wink like say he get magic.

Grandma thief Mom wedding gift, accuse her of disrespect, then old man next door begin follow Grandma. She use Mom sweat start second youth.

She parade market in new wrapper, head high, old men dey follow. Same women wey gossip before now dey envy her, dey whisper.

My sister and I wan protect Mom, but she no let us near again.

She dey far, eye flat and cold. Even if I sneak food or medicine, she go turn face. Na like she dey build wall nobody fit climb.

Grandma laugh, "You two still no sabi. This woman na woman wey bone dey soft—the more you beat am, the more luck dey land."

She go wave stick, dare anybody challenge her. Whole village believe am. Women dey whisper for daughter, "No go get soft bone like that one."

"Tonight, we dey cook catfish pepper soup. Who go break her head today? Na only person wey get mind go chop catfish."

The thing turn my belle. Grandma eye dey shine. Promise of meat fit tempt anybody, but me, I no fit move.

She face me and my sister, dey tempt us to cross line.

She lean close, voice low, "Who go do am? Who go be lucky one?" My hand shake, I shake head, no fit look her.

My stomach dey rumble, but I still shake head. I see hesitation for my sister eye.

She look me, eye wide with hunger and fear. For moment, I think she go refuse too—but hunger strong.

After secondary school start, her grade poor. Because we poor, she dey collect from bully for school. Dad and Grandma dey tempt her:

Every night, dem dey whisper, "Just beat your mother small, your luck go change." E turn poison, dey twist her dream till she only see escape.

"Just beat your mother, all your wahala go disappear."

Na chorus for house. Even when I try talk to her, she go just bone, eye cold.

She see how Dad and Grandma luck dey shine after beating Mom.

She begin believe say suffering fit trade for success. I see change, the way she look Mom—no be as mother, but as tool.

The day before university entrance, my sister carry needle enter Mom room. Mom scream all night. I knock, cry till morning.

Cry no let me sleep, every shout dey cut me. I bang door, beg her stop, nobody answer. By morning, my voice don die.

Next day, my sister—wey no sleep—go write exam, energy full body. Result land, she, wey only fit polytechnic, enter best federal university, become school dark horse, praise full everywhere.

Village celebrate. Auntie dey dance, neighbour bring gift. My sister dey show her letter, smile big. But I know wetin e cost.

From the proud look on her face as she hold admission letter, love for Mom don die.

She avoid Mom eye, waka with head high, like say she don pass us. I see Mom watch her, eye sad but accept fate.

From then, I truly alone for family.

Nobody talk to me unless dem need something. I turn ghost for my own house.

Beating Mom become way to move up. My sister immediately turn golden child. During her post-exam holiday, she wan travel, Dad and Grandma no gree give her money. She pull Mom hair—next day, find fifty thousand for street.

I watch her pack bag, count money she claim find. Grandma wink, proud. Dad clap her back. Mom just turn, silent.

She buy new phone, begin travel.

Her picture dey my old Tecno—nine bright, happy photo—caption full of slang: "Omo, na me be correct babe now. No wahala."

"But Mom, life na wilderness."

I read the words, try understand. Maybe na true—maybe only strong dey survive wilderness.

Mom, life na wilderness…

I whisper am for darkness, try believe. But my mind know true—our wilderness na on top Mom pain.

I curl for dark room, dey think.

Night heavy, air thick with heat and sorrow. I hug myself, listen to rat, wish for better life.

But sister, that wilderness you see, na from on top Mom blood and pain you dey stand.

I see am clear. My sister freedom, her laugh, her waka—all on top Mom pain. Na debt wey we no fit pay.