My Mother-In-Law Called Me Murderer / Chapter 3: Sorrow and Suspicion
My Mother-In-Law Called Me Murderer

My Mother-In-Law Called Me Murderer

Author: Ryan Lopez


Chapter 3: Sorrow and Suspicion

Plenty people come burial.

People full everywhere, dem dey squeeze for compound like owambe crowd. White canopies, plastic chairs, cooler full of jollof—na burial but still, people must chop. Choir dey sing soft hymn, ushers dey share tissue. Some people dey cry, some dey gossip. For our culture, burial na big event, everybody dey show support.

Abubakar work people, friends, neighbours for compound, even charity people carry banner come.

Big men from his chamber wear black suit, dey salute like soldiers. Old friends from university dey form group, dey remember old gist. Some women from mosque dey pray for one corner. Even some street children Abubakar dey help, dem come stand with their madam, dey wipe eye. Banner wey charity people carry get Abubakar face, and bold letters: 'A Giver, A Friend.'

Na there people come know say Abubakar dey donate for children for mountain area—every year e dey send big money, don pass one million like that.

Some people shock. Dem no believe say my husband, wey dey dress simple, dey do that kind big charity for North. People dey whisper, dey nod head, dey praise am, dey call am real man of God.

People just dey pity.

"This kind good person. Why accident go meet am? Good people no dey last, na bad ones dey live long."

One old man talk say, "You see am? Na always so. Na the sweet mango wey dey drop early, na goat dey chop." People sigh, shake head, dey blame fate.

"Lawyer Abubakar do plenty free legal help these years. He just become partner, say he wan work hard for wife and pikin, now see..."

Somebody dey count how many people Abubakar save for police wahala, how e dey help old women sort will for free. Na that day I know say e good to dey kind.

"The couple love each other. How Kamsi mama go take bear am? She don faint many times for just few days. Thank God neighbourhood people dey watch her."

Even one nurse from nearby clinic come, dey fan me, dey check my pulse. Every time I faint, dem go rub my hand, dey call my name. Some mama dey hold Kamsi, dey pet her, dey sing lullaby for her ear.

"Kamsi mama no get work. House still get mortgage. If Mr. Abubakar dey alive, dem for pay am finish for one or two years. Now, wahala don set."

My mind dey run—how I go feed Kamsi, how I go pay school fees, how I go manage all the bills. But that day, na only tears I get for pocket.

"This accident na real shock. Dem say after he faint, water take 20 minutes before e cover him mouth and nose. If to say he wake, or Kamsi mama come house, e for survive. Na fate, wetin person go do?"

Some people dey analyze, dey calculate minutes, dey check say if I no stop for Halima house, things for different. But na only God sabi.

As people dey whisper, me I just sit one side, face white, dey look Abubakar picture like zombie.

My eye dry, my mouth no fit talk. Na so people dey pass, dey look me, some dey cry, some dey shake head. My spirit dey far, e be like say I dey inside dream.

All these days, na serious sorrow dey hold me. I cry sotay my body dey pain me, faint sotay people dey pity.

Neighbours dey bring food, dey send prayer, dey come check every morning. Some dey call my family for village, dey report say make dem come support me. People dey form prayer circle for compound gate every night.

One neighbourhood committee woman sit by me, dey try console me.

She dey rub my back, dey whisper, "Kamsi mama, you go dey alright. Take am easy. Make you no blame yourself."

Halima’s mama come, face full of guilt, tell me:

"Kamsi mama, abeg forgive me. If no be say I hold you for my house that day, maybe, maybe Mr. Abubakar for still dey alive."

She kneel down for my front, dey shake, tears full her eye. Her voice dey crack, she dey cover face. Other mothers dey wipe her face, dey try pull her up.

She come cover mouth dey cry.

She dey shake, dey look ground, no fit talk again. I fit feel her pain.

I shake head, sorrow full my heart.

"No, no be your fault. Na my fault. Na me tell am make he run bath early. I forget my phone, so na why he open window, na there e fall. I talk say I go come house by 11, I waste time, come late ten minutes. Na my fault. Na me kill am..."

My chest dey squeeze, hand dey cold, like say I swallow stone. My voice low, tears dey run my cheek. All the pain wey I dey hide burst out that moment. Everybody around begin cry, dey shake head.

Neighbourhood committee woman quick try console me.

She hold my hand, dey pat my back. "Kamsi mama, abeg, no think like that. Sometimes, accident just happen. Police talk say na pure accident, very rare one."

She dey quote Bible, dey say God no dey sleep. I dey listen, but my heart no gree.

That day, as I scream, na Uncle Seyi first rush come. As he see wetin happen, he block Kamsi make she no enter, help call police.

E quick use cloth cover Kamsi eye, carry her run go neighbours, then rush come help me for bathroom. He dey shout, dey run up and down, dey call police number, dey beg them hurry.

After police check everywhere, ask question, dem piece together how e happen:

10:40, Abubakar start run water for bathtub, open window talk to me.

Dem mark the time for police report, say he wave from window, na the last time anybody see am.

Because the window dey beside bathtub and e dey open inside, he need lean out small. As he wan close window, e lose balance, fall enter tub, faint.

Dem say maybe he hit head for tap, na why e faint. Water dey pour dey rise. Nobody dey to help.

10:40–11:00, water dey rise small small till e cover him head.

Twenty minutes na long time if person no dey conscious. E hard to believe say just that small time fit change life forever.

11:00–11:05, after five minutes inside water, Abubakar suffocate, die. E no wake up, because no sign say e struggle or water splash for ground.

Police check, say no struggle, no evidence of foul play. Everything too quiet. Na accident.

11:10, I come house, see wetin happen.

I remember how my shoe scatter for corridor as I rush enter. That memory dey burn for my head.

During all this time, from when Abubakar show face for window till I come back, nobody waka pass corridor, no suspicious sign. Police say na accident.

They come write report, advise me say make I no blame myself. But sorrow no dey hear advice.

Person just sigh.

"E be like say na as dem talk—when God don ready call person, nobody fit stop am... Ah, who be that woman for door, dey wear heavy cloth for this hot weather?"

Another mama answer, "She dey waka slow, see as shoe old. Na stranger?"

"No be small heat o. She no dey sweat?"

Na so people dey point, dey whisper. In Naija, stranger for burial dey always raise eyebrow.

Me, I just dey like ghost, no dey see anything.

I just dey lost for my pain. People dey move around me, but na like I dey inside water, everything dey slow.

"She dey waka come meet Kamsi mama."

One person tap me for shoulder, whisper, "Aunty, see woman dey come your side." I look up, no recognize the face.

"She wan come collect money for burial? That one no good na. This no be wedding."

I dey confused, but I no fit talk anything. My mind dey blank.

I see one woman shoe—grey sneakers.

Dem be like old school type, the kind wey teachers dey wear for morning assembly. Patch dey side, lace don tear, but she still waka with pride.

The shoe old, get small patch, dust full am, e show say e don waka far.

From the way her feet dey land ground, you go know say she no be Lagos woman. Na traveller leg, na woman wey don cross bush, train, danfo.

"Kamsi mama, you sabi me?"

One kind rough voice talk near my ear.

Her voice na that kind wey dey sound like chalk for blackboard, rough but steady. My heart beat quick.

I look up slow slow.

One old woman face dey front of me.

Her skin dry, wrinkle full everywhere, hair don dey grey, but her eye still sharp under eyelid.

Her eyebrow strong, lips pressed tight, but her eye dey shine. You go know say na woman wey suffer, wey no dey laugh anyhow.

For this hot season, she wear thin wool coat wey no fit the weather, carry one old black bag for hand, another hand hold old plastic cup.

She dress like person wey no care for Lagos heat, maybe because her mind dey somewhere else. The coat tear for elbow, bag get small badge for one school. The cup na that type wey old women dey use take medicine. E show say she waka come from far.

"I be Mama Zainab, your mother-in-law wey you never meet before."

The name choke me. I nearly drop cup for ground. People for compound dey whisper, dey look both of us. Some dey try remember if dem ever see her before.

I look am blank, my body weak, brain just dey try connect things... Suddenly my eye open:

"Mama?"

I choke, my throat dry. I no believe say na the same woman I dey see for video call every Kamsi birthday. Her voice deep pass phone, her face hard pass picture.

Mama Zainab nod slow.

Her nod slow like person wey dey count prayer bead. You go know say she dey carry plenty pain for chest.

"E good as you recognise me."

Her voice no shake. People dey gather, dey look, some dey try block sun make she rest. Na respect dey show for her old face.

People gather.

Some dey whisper, dey look her up and down, dey try remember where she from. Others dey pray for me, dey beg God make things no spoil pass like this.

"So na Mr. Abubakar mama. Eya, parent wey lose pikin, God go comfort you."

A woman from mosque dey hold her hand, dey recite small prayer, dey pat her back. People dey nod, dey show sympathy.

"E good as you come. Family go support each other. Kamsi mama and her daughter no go suffer alone."

One elderly man dey say, "Family must hold each other tight. If person no get people, na there wahala dey start." Everybody dey agree.

Person try help Mama Zainab carry bag and cup, but she shake head, look Abubakar picture, then face me direct.

Her movement sure, her face hard. She no dey smile, no dey look left or right. All her eye focus for me.

"From the day I hear say my pikin die, I waka from Garba village, no rest, rush come here to tell police one thing."

Her voice loud, no shake. People quiet. Even children stop to cry. You go know say wetin she wan talk, no be joke.

She fix eye on me, face strong, voice steady as she talk each word.

"Na you kill my pikin."

Her mouth bend as she talk am, but eye no blink. Sorrow and anger dey show. I freeze. The compound dey silent, nobody fit talk for that moment. Na only breeze dey blow wrapper for clothes line.

Aunty, Oluwa a da e lohun. Allah ya jikansa.

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