Chapter 6: Boil Am, Chop Am

Little sister-in-law vex reach her peak. I know say if not for her husband, she for don come beat me. But the guy dey hold her waist, dey beg, “Abeg, babe, remember your belle.”

Ifeanyi dey sweat. You go see fear for him eye. He just dey whisper for her ear, try cool her down. Na so family matter dey go for Naija.

The siblings talk everything wey dey their mind. For their eye, even if my mother-in-law no perfect, na still my fault. So why I go bother to explain?

Everybody dey pour their heart. Even the ones wey no like each other before, today unite to finish me. I just stand like akamu—soft for inside, no strength to fight again.

I talk straight: “Na Chijioke tell me make I throw them away.” I talk am with bold face, eye straight. If wahala go bust, make truth set me free.

Chijioke na my husband. Big brother na Obinna. Little sister-in-law na Amaka. For clarity, I call all their names. If dem wan fight, make e clear who do wetin.

As I talk am, Amaka vex scatter. She jump, point my face and shout: “Lie! Even if my second brother dey pamper you, he no fit tell you to throw away the pies wey my mama suffer make! You do bad thing, now you wan blame my brother!” Her mouth wide, eye red. Ifeanyi hold her back, whisper “Calm down, abeg, for the baby.” But Amaka no dey gree.

Her husband fear, hug her, dey shout, “Abeg, no jump! No jump!” He fit see say this matter fit reach hospital if care no dey.

Mother-in-law cry louder: “Nnenna, abeg talk true. Chijioke dey work, he no dey house. How he go tell you throw away pies?” Her hand dey for head, tears dey run. She dey sob, “You wan spoil my name? Chineke, see my life!”

My husband job dey confidential. If he dey work, dem dey collect his phone. So, anytime he dey work, nobody fit reach am, and all the family sabi this one.

Everybody know say when Chijioke dey for site, na only God fit reach am. If person die, you fit wait till he come back.

So as I talk am, nobody gree with me. Dem all look me like say I just talk taboo. For their eye, na me dey yarn opata.

I talk, “He tell me before say, if I no wan chop something, make I throw am away, no force myself.” I remember wetin my husband talk before—“If you no like something, no kill yourself, just throw am away.” But I no fit defend myself, dem no dey listen.

Little sister-in-law shout: “He dey talk about takeaway or junk food, no be the pies my mama make!” Her mouth sharp like razor. If to say na court, na she be prosecuting lawyer.

Big brother face strong: “Nnenna, no think say because Chijioke no dey house you fit lie anyhow. We dey talk to you like family. We want make you face your own wahala.” He fold hand, voice heavy. I just look ground, because I no get person for my side.

Face wetin? Anything I talk, dem no go believe. Na only their mama matter dey their mind, not me—the outsider.

For this family, once dem don side their own, na full squad against outsider. Even if Jesus descend, dem go say, "Family first."

As time don reach afternoon, I stand up say, “Make I cook something for una.” My stomach don turn, but I summon courage. I for just run go room, but pride hold me. I gree cook for all of una—make una see whether I no sabi.

Mother-in-law quickly say, “Leave am for me, you no sabi cook.” Her face squeeze, hand wave, as if to push me go room. "Abeg, I no get strength for your food."

Little sister-in-law pull her: “If she no sabi, make she learn! She don marry, she suppose dey act like wife. She suppose dey serve you—why you go dey serve your daughter-in-law? You go fit dey serve her forever?” Amaka voice loud. "Mummy, make she cook, let her learn! Woman wey no fit cook, which kain wife be that?"

Mother-in-law sigh: “Her food no dey sweet.” She shake head, eye small. "Even small salt, she dey forget."

Little sister-in-law hiss: “I no care if e sweet or no sweet, as long as na she cook am—even if na dog food, I go chop!” The siblings laugh, some even clap. "Make she cook, let us judge am today."

This one sweet me—let dem see by themselves. E fit shock them.

I enter kitchen, bring out the biggest pot, wash am well. I clean pot, check stove, tie wrapper tight. Today, my own dey.

I boil big water and pour all the pies inside. Na so I boil the pies, one by one, all of dem swim for hot water. The aroma no too good, but I no send. Make dem chop am today.

As dem don cook, I serve everybody big plate. I arrange plates well, use tray, serve with small smile for mouth.

Parlour dey smell like bakery wey get small wahala. I set the plates, invite dem: "Come and eat."

Mother-in-law suddenly panic: “Na you I make these pies for, so you fit chop every morning. Now you cook everything at once—wetin you go dey chop again?” Her voice shake, hand on her chest. "Chai, Nnenna, why now? Na for your good I make am."

Little sister-in-law roll eyes: “Mummy, abeg. She no send your pies, and you still dey worry for her. If she no chop breakfast, na she go hungry, no be you.” She wave hand, face away. She no dey hear motherly worry.

Mother-in-law talk to me again: “Your big brother and little sister no dey come always, you suppose cook better food for them. Pie alone no reach.” Her tone don soft, like say she dey beg me show small family sense. "At least fry egg or beans."

I reply, “Chop pie first. I go fry something join.” I try act gentle, even though my mind dey hot. "No wahala, make una manage this one."

Obinna say, “Since dem don cook, make we eat. To tell truth, I never chop Mummy pie for two months.” He grab plate, smile. "Mummy, your pie dey always sweet. I don miss am."

Amaka say, “Me too! I dey crave am but no fit chop—Mummy dey make pie only for second brother house, and dem no dey appreciate.” She roll eye at me, belly jump, mouth full of story. For her mind, na punishment for me.

Sister-in-law and brother-in-law help bring out the pies for everybody. Dem dey pass plate, laugh, dey try form happy family. The tension still dey air like harmattan dust.

I pour pepper sauce for small plate and keep am for table. I drop hot ata for side, the way Yoruba people dey do am. "If you like pepper, abeg add."

Obinna and siblings no even wait, dem pick pie, dip for sauce, begin chop. Dem rush the pies, forget quarrel. First bite, everybody mouth busy. I watch, arms folded, ready for anything.

Sister-in-law and brother-in-law join. The whole house dey chew. I fit hear only the sound of teeth and awkward silence.