Chapter 5: I No Go Hide Again

When I reach house, Ifeoma and Mummy dey parlour.

The air inside felt tense, full of hope and worry. NEPA light was back, the TV humming quietly in the background.

Laptop dey on top centre table. Ifeoma dey type her exam number and ID.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, biting her lip in anticipation.

Mummy sit near her, dey hold her shoulder. "No fear, baby."

She stroked her back in small circles, whispering prayers under her breath.

I change shoe for door, drop my bag for room.

Ifeoma shout, "Amaka, come o! You don check your result?"

Her voice carried through the flat, part excitement, part nerves.

I come out say, "I don check."

My voice was even, but my heart was doing acrobatics inside my chest.

Ifeoma ask, "You pass university cutoff?"

Her eyes widened, her smile half-hopeful, half-incredulous.

The cutoff wey dem announce before na 180 for arts, 200 for science.

Everybody in school knew these numbers by heart—they were the gates to the next stage of life.

I say, "I pass."

A small smile played on my lips, but I kept my eyes down.

Mummy raise eyebrow, small surprise. "Good one, darling."

For the first time, I heard a note of pride in her voice. It was faint, but it warmed me.

She stand, hug me well.

Her arms felt safe, steady. I closed my eyes, letting her love fill the spaces inside me.

I feel somehow, but small happiness dey inside.

I didn't know if I deserved the hug, but I hugged her tighter.

Ifeoma suddenly shout, "Mummy, I dey click confirm o!"

The room held its breath. Even the TV seemed to pause.

Just like that, she carry Mummy attention away.

It always happened like that—her needs brighter, louder than mine. I learned to step aside.

I lower my eyes, no talk again.

I fiddled with my sleeve, willing myself invisible.

The page dey load long before Ifeoma score show.

Each second crawled, Mummy's hand squeezing hers tighter.

She quickly cover the screen, take deep breath. "Mummy, I dey fear."

Her voice shook, her body trembling.

Mummy dey calm her.

She whispered, "You go do well, my pikin." I could see her lips moving in silent prayer.

I just stand dey look.

I tried to keep my own nerves in check. I knew how much this moment meant to Ifeoma.

She dey fear for almost ten minutes, dey move finger.

She hesitated, clicking back and forth, searching for a different result.

At last, her face even lose colour.

Mummy shock.

The air felt heavy, as if thunder would strike the TV.

I look screen: total, 200.

I blinked. It wasn't bad, but not what she wanted.

After that, I just message my class teacher.

I typed quickly, reporting my score, hoping for words of encouragement.

Ifeoma cry, "No way! No be my score be this!"

Her voice broke, high and desperate. My chest tightened for her.

"Mummy! Dem don swap my result!"

She buried her face in Mummy's chest, her body shaking.

She run enter Mummy arms, dey cry serious.

Her sobs filled the parlour, loud and raw. Mummy rocked her gently, humming an old lullaby.

My ear no fit take am. I wan go my room when Ifeoma, red eyes, look me. "You say you pass university cutoff—na true?"

Her voice was sharp, full of suspicion. My own pain pricked at me.

"Na true."

I nodded, wishing she would believe me.

Ifeoma press, "But you dey always get just above one hundred before!"

Her disbelief stung, but I refused to let it show.

For once, I no gree hide. I look her straight: "Sister, I pass. You no happy for me?"

I looked her in the eye, my voice steady. For once, I wanted her to see me.

Ifeoma pause.

Mummy pat her shoulder, frown. "Darling, how you go talk that kind thing to your sister?"

Her words were stern, disappointment flashing in her eyes.

After she scold am, she turn to me. "Your sister no too try this time, Amaka. No take am for mind."

She reached for my hand, squeezing it gently.

"E no matter."

My voice was quiet, almost lost. But I meant it.

I quietly go my room.

I slipped away, the noise of their voices fading behind me.

Once inside, I breathe deep, my throat tight.

I pressed my hand to my chest, willing the tears to stop.

I no fit talk how I dey feel.

The ache was deep, raw. I wanted to shout, but only silence came out.

My nose dey pepper me, eyes dey water.

I bit my lip hard, the salty taste of tears on my tongue.

I just hold am, carry my phone, try distract myself.

I scrolled through old messages, looking for anything that would pull me back from the edge.