Chapter 2: Who Be My Family?

2

After the pikin run go, I sharply call my childhood padi, Musa, make I try find out wetin dey happen. My hand dey shake as I dial, sweat dey my palm even though AC full everywhere.

I no even know wetin don sup for these ten years, my phone sef no get any better information.

Most of my old friends just disappear from my contacts like say dem vanish.

The phone ring taya before Musa finally pick.

Before I fit talk, e don vex: “Tunde, you get mind call me?”

I scratch head, no even sabi why e dey para, I say, “O boy, Old Musa, I… something dey happen wey I no understand. Abeg, fit come my side?”

Musa na my padi from small, na the person wey I trust pass.

I still remember that Christmas wey one small pikin throw banger inside gutter, the banger explode kpraaa! for gutter, my ear ring like church bell. Na me and Musa dey near. If no be say he use body block me, I for don blind that day.

But because of am, na hospital him enter for half month.

As I dey stammer, Musa come dey worried.

“Tunde, you don sick again? Wetin happen, you still dey think of Halima, come dey call me insult again?”

Halima na the campus beauty wey gree for me yesterday.

She and Musa never even meet before.

E be like say plenty things don really happen for these ten years.

I tell Musa say I no fit talk everything for phone, say make e just come.

E still insult me small, but finally e gree.

As I hear him voice for phone, old memory flash come my mind—how we go run enter rain, play football for muddy field until mama go flog us with koboko. The thing sweet me small, but the worry no allow me rest. Even his voice, e still get that Ibadan baritone, but e hard now, like say life don show am pepper.

3

As I drop phone, one aunty knock for door.

Who be this one?

I just keep face, dey wait for her to talk.

I hear her voice, careful: “Oga, you don wake. You go chop?”

Na so I know say na house-help she be.

E be like say ten years later, I don hammer.

I nod, try act like big man, before I know, na better food dem serve me—jollof rice, fried plantain, and chicken. The jollof rice red well, with aroma wey fit wake dead man. Even the plantain dey golden, no be all those burnt ones.

I no expect say ten years later, na this kind life I go dey live.

I try ask the aunty about my ‘wife’.

She look me somehow, say madam travel for work, no go come back till next month.

As I no even know who be my wife, I no wan ask too much make I no cast myself.

Na so I just carry spoon begin chop.

True true, na all my favourite food.

As I dey chop, I see the small pikin dey peep me from door.

I reason say maybe na my son, my eyes just bright, I wave am: “O boy, come here.”

E dey shake, but e waka come my bedside gently.

Why this pikin dey fear me like this? E dey look me like say I be masquerade, no be papa.

I scratch my head, try talk soft: “How far, wetin be your name? How old you be?”

The boy face just full with wahala, like say e no understand why him papa no remember him name.

“Daddy, my name na Jide. My nickname na Fanfan. I be four and half.”

Jide?

I still dey push: “Fanfan, make I ask you—wetin be your mama name?”

“My mama na—”

“Fanfan, you dey here! Come downstairs go do your lesson. No disturb oga as e dey rest.”

The aunty show for door, cut Fanfan short.

“Oga, sorry o, I suppose dey watch Fanfan. I go carry am go down now.”

She rush come carry Fanfan go.

I just nod, no fit talk.

Since I wake up, the aunty dey look me like say I be witch.

As I no fit get anything about my wife, I decide make I find clue myself.

The bedroom fine die, but I no see wedding photo or any sign say another person dey live here.

E mean say the marriage no too pure.

If we dey do separate room but never divorce, e fit be because of property wahala?

The kind way the aunty dey tiptoe around me, I dey suspect say I no get good name for this house. Even the curtains na new pattern, different from wetin I remember my mama dey use. House get AC everywhere, but e still cold, the kind cold wey no be from weather—na the one wey dey inside family.