Chapter 1: If I Could Choose Again

I be queen for three years, then queen mother for twenty.

Even now, as I dey think back on those years, e be like say I still dey waka for palace corridors, my wrapper dey sweep the cold smooth tiles, my footsteps dey echo memories of laughter and pain. Sometimes, late at night, when the Benue breeze carry the smell of rain and old stories, moonlight from the river go slip through my window, bathe my bed with silver, and I go remember those days of glory and sorrow.

After I die, my descendants gather around me, even palace chiefs cry well well for my burial.

My people come from far and wide, some with gele as tall as palm fronds, others waka barefoot from the hinterlands. Dem chant my praise names, pour libation, and women wail—tears mix with ochre dust and the smell of fried akara from mourning neighbours—because a great tree don fall. Even the stubborn council elders wipe their eyes with the edge of their wrappers, and the drummers play sotay their palms dey bleed. The king’s horses just stand, quiet like say dem too dey mourn.

By all standard, life like mine suppose end with no regret.

Dem say my story suppose dey sing for every festival; my face suppose dey woven for every cloth. But for my inside, one quiet ache no gree leave me, not even as I die. Sometimes the thing wey world dey call success na the same thing wey go keep you awake when everywhere for compound don silent.

But if dem give me another chance, that time wey Mama Nkechi ask who I wan marry, I no go pick the crown prince again. Instead, I for choose Prince Anayo, the one wey always dey guard the northern border.

Ah, that strong, silent one. Him be like harmattan wind: steady, unbending, faithful even when nobody dey look. My heart dey always beat fast when I hear news from the north, dey hope say he dey safe.

From that moment—north or south—na only you I wan dey with. I no even wan see the crown prince face again.

Some heart dey waka up and down, but my own always dey find you—even inside crowd, even if your face dey hide because of distance or duty.