Chapter 5: My Childhood Room, My Goodbye

Halima go stay.

Her bags come, workers help am settle. I hear her voice for corridor, dey thank dem. I peep from window, see as dem arrange her things.

For the room near Uncle Tunde own, the room wey used to be mine. That time wey Uncle Tunde first bring me here, he even ask his friends for help, draw the plan by himself, change the whole room.

I remember the painting, the excitement for his face. He dey call carpenters, dey choose pink paint, dey check catalogue for bed and curtains. Na love he put for the work.

He turn am to pink princess room.

The walls pink, the curtains white with gold trim. The carpet soft, as if you dey walk on bread. Everything fine, fit for real princess.

He buy plenty limited dolls put for my bedside.

Porcelain dolls, teddy bears, even one Barbie from America. He dey display dem, always arrange dem neat. I love those dolls like sisters.

He raise me like princess.

Every wish, he dey grant. He treat me like say I be last born, always dey praise me. Sometimes I dey think say my life na fairytale.

From small to now.

Even as I grow, he still dey buy me gifts, dey call me "my princess." My birthday, he go arrange surprise. My friends dey envy me.

He always talk, “Anything wey go make Jin Yemi happy, I go do am.”

He dey boast for his friends. "If na ice cream she want for midnight, I go find am. Anything for Yemi." I dey feel special, my head dey swell.

“I wan make our Jin Yemi grow up healthy, happy, like princess.”

He go say am for front of everybody. My chest dey sweet. I dey laugh, dey hug am. The memory dey warm, but now dey burn me.

That time, his eyes dey gentle like say na only me dey for the world.

If he look me, na only love I dey see. The way he dey treat me, my heart dey melt. I dey believe say nothing fit change am.

Na why I fall for am.

All that care, all the attention—na why my heart dey where e dey. I no fit help am. Na love catch me.

But from start to finish, he no ever cross the line.

He never touch me anyhow, never make me feel uncomfortable. Always respect me. The boundary clear. Even when people dey tease, he go just laugh am off.

For the room, Uncle Tunde lean for door, look me cold, talk:

His shadow long for door. He cross arms, eyes cold. The authority for his face strong. My spirit shrink small.

“Aunty Rose don clean the guest room for downstairs. For now, stay downstairs.”

He talk am like order, no room for argument. His voice no get pity. I just nod, no talk back.

I no talk, just fold my clothes, dey pack am for my box. When I wan carry the doll for my bedside—

My hand dey tremble. I dey look the doll, the pink dress, the shiny hair. My heart dey heavy, but I try strong. The memory of happy days dey haunt me.

My hand stop.

I freeze, eyes wet. I dey ask myself, why I go carry the doll? E no get meaning again. My childhood don end.

Uncle Tunde look the doll too. See as I dey hesitate,

He look away, cough small. The air between us cold. I see regret flash for his eyes, but e disappear fast.

He talk, “I go bring the doll come down for you later.”

His voice softens small, but I no gree look am. He dey try, but the gap between us too wide now.

I breathe deep, remove my hand, force smile: “No need. Give am to Small Aunty.”

I force laugh, voice crack. "No worry, make Small Aunty enjoy am." I fit hear my own pain for my voice, but I hide am. I dey try move on, even if e dey pain me.

Even Uncle Tunde—I no want again.

I dey tell myself say I no need anybody to complete me. My heart dey strong, even though e dey bleed.

Wetin be doll?

I ask myself, what be the use of all these memories? Wetin be childhood compared to now? I fit start afresh.

Wetin dey real before, now e mean nothing.

All the things I hold for hand, now dey heavy. The dolls, the room, the love—nothing remain.

“Jin Yemi, you still dey vex for me?” Uncle Tunde ask, voice cold.

His tone dey harsh, but I fit hear worry inside. I turn face, no let tears drop.

“Why I go vex for Uncle?” I answer. “Uncle get your own life now. You get person wey you like, person wey you wan protect. I suppose dey happy for you, no be so?”

I say am with small smile. But inside me, na sorrow dey. I dey try show say I don move on, even if my heart dey break.

Uncle Tunde eyes dark, lips move, but words no come out.

He open mouth, then close am. He look ground, rub neck. E be like say he get words, but e no fit talk am.

When I drag my box go—

The wheels of the box dey make noise for tile. My head high, but my vision blur. I dey try act strong.

Halima dey wait for door, her eye carry small mockery.

She dey look me up and down, small smirk for lips. I see the look—like say she win trophy. But when she see me, she shift, arrange her face quick.

Just like before, always act innocent, but always dey target me, cry at any small thing.

If weak person cry, people go always pity am.

The tears dey win people heart. She sabi am. Her own method sharp—act like victim, collect all sympathy.

“Miss Yemi, sorry for wahala.”

Her voice dey soft, but I fit sense the edge. She dey try sound caring, but I sabi her ways.

“If no be say I no fit waka, Tunde no go need do all this.”

She dey remind me and everybody of her situation. She dey use her pain hold Tunde for hand. My chest tight.

My hand hold my box strong. I wan pass her go, but she hold my wrist. I sharply free myself.

Her grip dey cold, light. I yank my hand free, no waste time. I dey ready for any drama.

“Ah—”

She scream, wheelchair roll. The noise loud, echo for house. All the workers for kitchen and corridor rush out.

Halima wheelchair just lose control, start roll go stairs. Her scream fill the house, all the workers rush come. Somebody shout, "Blood of Jesus!" as the chair dey roll.

The wheels dey spin fast, na small thing remain make she fall. The whole house dey scatter, people dey shout.

“Tunde, save me, save me—”

Her scream tear air. I freeze. My own heart stop. The workers dey fumble, dey block stairs.

As Uncle Tunde hear her shout,

He dash out like say fire dey chase am. He push me aside, no look my face. Na only Halima matter dey his eye.

He run out, push me aside, rush go grab the wheelchair, stop am.

He grab am just in time, the wheels still dey spin. He hug her, sweat for face. Everybody dey hold breath. My own hand dey shake.

I just stand, throat tight: “No be me.”

I try explain, voice low. Nobody look my side. All eyes dey on Halima and Uncle Tunde. My chest dey squeeze.

The wheelchair hang for stairs, workers block the way.

Dem dey sweat, dey thank God say nothing bad happen. Everybody dey talk at once, confusion full ground.

Uncle Tunde sharply carry Halima for hand, come my side.

He hold her close, dey pet am. Halima bury face for his chest, dey sob. He glare me, like say na me cause the whole wahala.

Workers help move the wheelchair.

Dem quickly carry am back to corridor, clean sweat, dey talk soft to Halima. Some dey look me with side eye.

“Tunde, fear catch me die.”

Her voice dey tremble, tears dey roll. She hug am tight. "I think say I go die, Tunde. My heart almost stop." Her acting sharp.

“I think say I go die...” Her eyes red, the fear real.

She dey shake, lips quiver. Even me, I dey pity am small, but I hide am.

After Uncle Tunde calm her, he face me, anger full his face.

He turn, eyes red. "Yemi, wetin you dey do? Are you mad?" His voice loud, the whole house dey hear.

“Yemi, you dey craze?”

His voice like thunder. I dey shiver. The insult pain me, but I hold my chest.

“If anything bad happen to Halima, dem go say na you kill am. You dey hear?”

He point finger, voice steady. The warning clear. My own pain choke me. I just look am, tears for eye.