Chapter 3: Family Table, Heavy Tension

This family no be old-school or do-anyhow for boy pikin. The room wey Mummy arrange for me big reach Ifedike own, but because I get body like wrestler, na the gentle Ifedike dey get more pamper from adults.

For our side, e dey normal to see mama dey treat the quiet child like egg. Na dem dey ginger say dem get fragile spirit, meanwhile na dem strong pass all of us sometimes.

If na the original Morayo, I for dey vex say this ‘different’ brother dey collect my parents’ love. But as person wey don spend thirty years for life, I no send this kind small favouritism at all.

Na so my mind just cool, abeg. Small meat and extra hug no dey move me again. My own na peace of mind.

Time reach for evening food, I chop well. Mummy dey eye me, small guilt for her face. She use spoon carry one piece of stewed goat meat, put for my plate: “Morayo, chop more.”

She dey try make up for all the years dem waka me for village. Na the Naija parent way—food go solve am.

I look the meat—half fat, half lean—heart do one kain. “I no like am.”

Na true. I no dey chop fatty meat, only lean one.

I just talk am straight. I no dey do all those corner-corner. Small tension hang for air, but I no send.

As she hear, Mummy face just strong. She look Daddy, wey just dey chop quietly, then use spoon shift the meat from my plate to Ifedike own.

Even Daddy just clear throat, like say e wan mind him business make dem no involve am. Na so men dey do for table sometimes.

So na Ifedike dey like this kind food.

I wan continue chop when WhatsApp comments flash again:

[Wetin this supporting character dey plan again? That meat sweet die! She dey do am on purpose!]

[She dey find attention from her parents. See as she dey compete at this small age—she go fight woman tire when she grow.]

[This girl dey vex person! Why main guy parents go born this kind sister?!]

All these keyboard warriors dey para, but dem no sabi real Morayo don change. Na dem sabi.

As I see the comments, my appetite just disappear. I manage finish the last small food, stand up: “I don belleful. I dey go my room.”

I just drop fork small loud, so dem no go say I sneak away. Sometimes, to disappear from wahala, na small drama you need.

Mummy quick stand half: “Morayo—”

I stop, turn look back. For the table, the woman wey don nearly reach forty, her eyes dey shake. She wan talk, but she just shake head: “Go.”

For her voice, I hear small pain. Maybe she dey remember years wey pass, or she dey think say e too late to fix am. Na so life be sometimes.

I no too understand, but I carry my plate go wash for kitchen, then waka enter my room.

For kitchen, the tap dey make that screechy sound, like all those old zinc tap for village. I just rinse the plate sharp-sharp, then enter my room, lie down for bed, dey stare ceiling.

Omo, I expect say na so things go be as I come back, so e no pain me. I think say the night go just end like that.

I try listen for compound, hear distant generator hum and neighbour pikin dey cry. Mosquito dey sing for my ear, and the fan just dey blow hot air. The house just dey settle.

But na lie—just as I finish bath, dey ready sleep, person knock my door.

I pause, heart beat small. You know say for Naija, night knock fit mean many things. I think say na Mummy, I go open. But surprise—

Na Ifedike stand for outside.

The boy just dey there, dey look me with him black eyes. “Brother, you dey find me?” I ask, small worry. Wetin fit make am come my door for night?

For inside, I dey wonder if e wan complain or just dey lonely. Night fit dey long for pikin wey no dey talk.

As I ask, e face come tight. He quick raise hand, give me notebook wey get writing for am.

For Naija, if pikin dey hand you paper, e mean e no sabi talk him mind for mouth. My heart just soft small.

I blink, no sure wetin to expect—na apology, na complaint? I just follow as he show me. As I see the writing, I freeze.

For the page e write—

Sister, which food you dey like? Tell me, I go remember. Next time, make we chop wetin you like.

Na that moment I realize, for all the wahala, this my brother get heart wey pure. Small act, but e heavy well well.