I Fought My Mother-in-law With Pie / Chapter 3: Everybody Dey Judge
I Fought My Mother-in-law With Pie

I Fought My Mother-in-law With Pie

Author: Elizabeth Lynch

Chapter 3: Everybody Dey Judge

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Her husband, Ifeanyi, grab her gently, voice low, “No dey shout, remember say you get belle.” But na only God fit hold Amaka when she vex.

Sister-in-law add, “Nnenna dey inside kitchen, no disturb her. Wait till she come out.” This one dey always try balance things. She use low voice, dey beg, but Amaka no hear.

Little sister-in-law raise voice: “Wetin she dey busy with? My mama dey do everything for her—cook, clean, take care of the house—wetin Nnenna dey do? Nnenna, come out and beg my mama!” She shake head, fold hand under breast, face squeeze like she just bite raw pepper. Her mouth no dey ever tire.

Obinna eye don red, as he shout, e voice loud like market chairman: “That’s enough from you!”

She throw hand, mouth sharp, eyes roll. “Why I no go talk? She dey bully my mama, make I worship her?”

Obinna try maintain elder status. “Even if she wrong, she still be your second sister-in-law. If wahala dey, wait till your second brother come settle am.”

Little sister-in-law scoff: “Big brother, you dey expect second brother to defend Mummy? That one don turn woman wrapper. If he care, he no go allow Nnenna dey do anyhow for here.” She hiss, shake head. "See as Chijioke let wife dey ride my mama. No be so men suppose dey."

Big brother clap hand for air, try restore order. "Enough, everybody sit down. I go call Nnenna out. Abeg, no bring disgrace come outside."

Obinna enter kitchen, call me: “Nnenna, abeg come explain why you throw the pies away.” Obinna voice calm but strict. As I hear am, my heart dey drum kpum-kpum. E no get where to hide, na time to face music.

If e go good, e go good. If e bad, you no fit run. I remember my mama advice—“No let dem see your fear”—but my voice dey hide for throat. Since dem don catch me, make I face am.

I sigh, wipe sweat for my face, adjust scarf, waka come parlour. E better make everybody hear me than make story dey twist.

As I dey enter, my leg dey shake. Even light for ceiling blink, like say e wan witness fight. All eye dey on me, like person wey NEPA just catch for illegal connection—everybody dey watch my next move.

She jump up, voice loud: “Nnenna, tell me, wetin my mama do you? You dey your papa house, dem pamper you, you no sabi cook. My second brother work dey special, he dey travel well well. My mama pity you, since you marry enter, she dey stay with you to take care of you. Three times a day, she dey cook and serve you. She dey sweep and mop for you. She dey wash your clothes and even your pants. She dey even wash your underwear! She dey almost worship you for altar! E never do you? Wetin give you right to disgrace my mama like this?” Her voice dey crack, emotion dey drip. You go think say na Nollywood audition. She even stamp foot, as if ground offend her. The other siblings dey nod like council elders.

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