My Mother-In-Law Called Me Murderer / Chapter 4: Hotel of Shadows
My Mother-In-Law Called Me Murderer

My Mother-In-Law Called Me Murderer

Author: Cameron Lambert


Chapter 4: Hotel of Shadows

After Mama Zainab talk finish, she just waka commot. Nobody fit stop am.

Her step steady, no hurry, no shake. People try hold her, but she push dem gently. Her head dey high, her back no bend. Na so old women dey waka when dem get mission.

She appear just like that.

E be like film trick. One moment she dey my front, next thing, na her back I dey see. Some people dey check say maybe she be spirit, or maybe she dey vex sotay she no wan talk again.

And vanish just like that.

Nobody sabi where she go. One mama say she see her enter keke, another say she waka go inside bush. Everybody dey confused.

Like say she just come talk that one thing.

For my mind, I dey ask God, why she no come before? Why now? The pain wey she leave dey bite pass knife.

Everybody just dey look, then rush come console me.

People surround me, dey rub my back, dey pour prayer, dey beg me no cry. Some dey curse old woman under their breath. Some dey say, "No mind am, na sorrow dey talk."

"Kamsi mama, the old woman dey confuse with sorrow. No mind am. No let am worry you."

They dey speak softly, dey pet me. One mama dey wipe my face with her scarf, another dey fan me.

"Yes now, all those village women no too sabi, dem dey believe rumour. Just talk to her later, e go clear."

One man add, "You go see, when everything calm, una go settle. She no mean am."

"How come we never see Lawyer Abubakar mama before? Now wey e die, she just show. She wan come drag pikin or property?"

Some women dey whisper, dey calculate, dey check who get right for land, for house, for everything. Na so family matter dey start for burial.

"No be only say we never see, we never even hear of am. Kamsi mama, the woman talk say she never meet you. You sure say na Abubakar mama she be?"

People dey doubt, dey ask question. For Naija, strange woman for burial na wahala. I just dey pray make trouble no start.

Me, I just quiet, my body weak sotay I no fit stand.

Na only hot tears dey my eye. My head dey spin, my hand dey cold. I dey wish say ground open, swallow me.

Neighbourhood committee woman give me hot tea.

She pour am for plastic cup, press my hand, dey beg me sip small. She talk say hot tea fit calm spirit, make I try rest.

"Abeg, make una leave her. The main thing now na make we do burial, let Kamsi mama rest. Every other thing go settle later."

She dey raise voice, dey send people away gently. Everybody dey respect her, dey shift, dey allow me small space to breathe.

I bow head, sip small tea, my brain dey clear small small.

The hot tea burn my tongue small, but e bring me back to earth. I dey hear children dey laugh for compound, I dey smell small jollof for air. The world dey move, but my own dey pause.

True.

I repeat the word for my mind. True. I need rest. I need peace.

Mama Zainab na Abubakar real mama.

Her picture dey my wedding album, her voice dey my memory. I dey remember all the small things wey Abubakar talk about her—how she dey beat am for school wahala, how she dey teach children for dust and sun.

Eight years ago, as I marry Abubakar, na for video call I first see this my mother-in-law.

She dey for small room, children dey shout for background. Her voice dey crack, but her eye dey sharp. She bless us, dey wish us well. I dey fear am small that day, but Abubakar dey smile, dey pet me.

She divorce Abubakar papa when Abubakar dey fifteen, leave everything, go teach for North, so since then, mother and son no dey see.

He dey always talk say Mama stubborn, say if she say yes, na yes. If she say no, nothing fit change her mind. She dey like soldier, dey move anyhow for dusty road.

After Abubakar papa die, Abubakar make money, search find her, wan carry her come city stay. She no gree, say as she go village, she swear say she no go ever leave that land.

He beg her many times, but she dey laugh, dey say, "My spirit no dey city, my leg dey bush." She dey send yam, send groundnut, dey pray for us from far.

For recent years, na only Abubakar dey go see her for North two times, me I dey see her for video call once a year, for Kamsi birthday.

Each year, she go sing birthday song for Kamsi, dey bless her, dey pray say God go open way for her. I dey thank her, dey greet her, but my heart dey always fear say I never meet her face to face.

Now, my mind just dey scatter.

I dey think say if to say I try more, maybe I for visit her once. Maybe if I go village, she for like me, for no blame me today.

I no understand why this woman wey swear say she no go ever commot North suddenly rush come from far?

How she fit take night bus, train, waka reach here, for burial? Na sorrow? Na wahala? My mind dey run.

Why she talk that kind thing give me?

E be like say she dey carry her own pain, dey pour am for my head. Or maybe na old grudge. Or maybe na just sorrow dey make person talk wetin e no mean.

Sorrow just full my head, I no fit reason am...

I dey look sky, dey beg God make e show me sign. My chest heavy, my hand dey shake.

After burial, Mama Zainab no go back.

She no greet anybody, no stay for house. She just dey move like shadow. Neighbours dey talk, dey wonder wetin she dey plan. Me, I dey fear small.

She stay.

Na only for burial ground and sometimes for small shop near train station dem dey see her. She no dey talk to anybody, no dey laugh.

Of course, she no stay for my house, but for one small hotel near train station.

The hotel old, roof dey leak, mosquito full everywhere. Ceiling fan dey hang, but e no dey work. Cockroach run pass, and generator noise dey hum for background. I hear say she dey pay with her own small money, no wan collect help. Kamsi dey ask me every night, "Mummy, why grandma no wan sleep with us?"

Night reach, moon dey shine, dey look people joy and sorrow.

Compound quiet, only generator dey hum. I dey sit for my bed, dey look Abubakar picture, dey count all the things wey don change. Moonlight enter window, dey shine for my tear face.

I sit alone, dey wipe tears, dey look Abubakar picture, make decision for my mind.

I dey tell myself say, no matter how pain dey my heart, I no fit pursue my husband's mother. Family na family.

No matter why she come.

I repeat am for my mind, dey reason all the possibilities. Maybe she wan drag land, maybe she wan just curse me. But I no fit lock her out.

Whether na for pikin.

Maybe she wan carry Kamsi go North. Or maybe she wan just dey look her face small. I dey ready for anything.

Whether na for property.

Even if na to drag house, or car, or even my small wedding ring, I go still dey humble. I no fit disgrace myself for Abubakar sake.

Or because she get wrong idea.

If na wrong idea, time go clear am. I dey pray make God soften her heart. Na only prayer I get.

She still be my husband mama, my pikin grandma.

No matter how, I no fit fit talk bad against her. For my heart, I dey pray make Kamsi get grandma, even if na small.

I no fit just leave am.

I go try. I go show her say I be better woman, for my late husband sake.

Just as I wipe my tears, Kamsi voice dey call me from corridor, reminding me say life no dey wait.

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