Chapter 4: Shifting Shadows

When I reach house, Mama Nkechi don already wait for me.

Her wrapper tie tight, her gold earrings dey swing as she adjust for the mat. Even the house cat dey lie near her foot, quiet for once. The air thick with unsaid words.

She dey half-lie down, maid dey press her shoulders gently.

The maid dey press well, sometimes small groan escape Mama Nkechi mouth. The smell of balm dey strong for room, mix with the leftover incense.

She look normal, but I sabi say her mind no sweet.

Her eyes dey move too much, and her finger dey tap for her knee. Only person wey know her well go sabi say she dey vex for inside.

As she hear my steps, she open her eyes, look me well:

She no dey miss anything. Even the way I breathe, she notice.

"You injure anywhere?"

Her voice gentle, but na worry dey inside. Mama Nkechi na lioness, her own children na her world.

My heart soft, I just shake my head.

I wan tell her sorry, but the words no come. I just look am, nod my head slow slow.

She sit up, her face strong as she look me:

She adjust her blouse, straighten her wrapper, ready to drop news wey fit scatter ground.

"Today, crown prince send message. He say he wan take Ifeoma as second wife, and Queen Mother don agree."

The words choke me. For my chest, na cold water somebody pour. I fit see the way Mama Nkechi hold her jaw, like person wey swallow pepper.

Ifeoma—my half-sister.

So na her again. My spirit no dey surprise, but my heart dey jump.

I shock. This one no happen for my last life.

I remember every detail from before, but this move na new wahala. Something don shift, like when wind blow roof tile comot for house.

Where things come spoil?

I dey try remember which day this new path begin, which word wey person talk wey cause am.

Mama Nkechi still dey smile, but the smile no reach her eyes:

She dey force the smile, but her eyebrow dey betray her. The side of her mouth dey tremble, like say she dey hold plenty pain.

"I want make she be main wife, but she insist say she wan be second wife."

Mama Nkechi never gree for small thing before, so this one shock her. She expect Ifeoma to reach for sky, but she settle for ground.

"If I no promise His Majesty say I go keep your marriage quiet for now, I for like see her face when she find out…"

Her laugh na just small huff. She wan show say she no care, but her voice crack for end. Mama Nkechi like power play, and Ifeoma dey play her own game.

I quiet.

I just keep my face flat. Wetin I go talk? This palace drama don tire me.

Last life, Mama Nkechi marry me to crown prince, Ifeoma be Prince Anayo’s main wife. This life, with Mama Nkechi’s way, if I marry Prince Anayo, she go try make Ifeoma queen.

She always dey find way to balance her pikin’s future with palace politics. Her plan dey always twist like yam tendril.

But Ifeoma choose to be second wife.

That one na sharp move. Only God know wetin dey her mind.

I remember Mama Nkechi words earlier, my mind move:

Her voice echo for my head like drum. I dey connect dots, dey try piece wetin dey really happen for palace.

"Mama Nkechi, you know why His Majesty wan keep the marriage quiet? And for how long?"

My question serious. I wan know if I dey enter another wahala wey I no bargain for.

Mama Nkechi think small, then talk:

She tap her finger, count her thoughts before she reply.

"Since Queen die, His Majesty no dey treat crown prince like before—maybe him dey suspect am."

Her voice low. Palace secrets plenty. If king dey suspect, wahala fit burst any moment.

She look me as she finish:

She dey search my face for fear, maybe for hope.

"No fit hide long. Next month, when Prince Anayo return from border, dem go announce the marriage."

Her words settle for my chest like stone. At least, no be forever.

I count the days—thank God, na just about ten days remain.

My heart dey beat small fast, but e get hope for inside. Ten days, I fit endure.

Ifeoma’s wedding dey three days from now.

Market people dey already talk, old women dey gossip under mango tree. Palace dey prepare, but everybody dey move like person wey dey walk for eggshells.

Crown prince wan carry her enter before the big wedding, both to make his love happy and warn me.

His action dey loud. E be like say he dey shout to whole world say Ifeoma na him own, make me no get mind again.

Because dem rush the marriage and she be only second wife, the party no too big.

No drum and dance till morning, no festival for street. Small small food, just family.

But crown prince come escort her by himself, even bring wild geese wey he hunt, give Ifeoma better face.

Wild geese na big thing for our side. If man bring am come, e mean say he cherish the woman well. People for Udoka Compound dey whisper.

The Udoka Compound wey dey always plain, now full with lanterns and colour everywhere, everywhere dey bubble.

Smell of fried plantain and goat pepper soup dey choke air, old women dey sing chorus for veranda, small children dey chase each other round compound.

The gate dey open wide, young boys dey run up and down. Lanterns dey glow for night, shadows dey dance for wall.

But if you look well, you no go see any red aso-oke, brocade or dowry chest.

People dey whisper, dey point. Dem know say the celebration dey incomplete. Some women dey gossip say na sign say Ifeoma no be main wife.

Even the bride’s veil na peach pink lace, not the red wey tradition demand for main wife.

People dey whisper, dey wonder why. Tradition strong for here—main wife na only red, second wife fit do any colour wey remain.

I see as the joy for crown prince face dey break small small, but he force himself smile again.

He dey try hide the pain, but his eyes no fit lie. Even his laughter dey sound thin, like flute wey no get enough air.

I look down, see their hands join—one look happy, the other just dey shy.

Ifeoma dey squeeze his hand, her eyelashes long like broom. But for her smile, I see small fear hide.

As he catch my eye, he raise his chin like say make I see am, grip the woman hand tighter.

Na challenge, but I no answer. My own face remain blank, like person wey no send.

I just face front, no answer his childish drama.

Make he do as e like. My mind don waka pass this matter.

Na when I waka comot from Udoka Compound, out of Mama Nkechi sight, crown prince drag me go one corner, his voice sharp:

He no even greet, just drag arm, mouth tight.

"Nnenna, you dey jealous now?"

His eye dey search my face, looking for something wey no dey again.

"You no even gree make Ifeoma use red veil, you dey fear say people go know she be second wife?"

His voice dey shake. E dey pain am say I still get power for small things.

"You dey do like this, you dey wound her heart, make she no fit raise head?"

Like say na me put Ifeoma for second place. His blame sharp like fresh razor.

I frown well, shake his hand off:

My skin crawl where his hand touch. I wipe am quick, face strong.

"Your Highness, second wife no suppose use peach pink?"

My voice steady. I dey remind am say na tradition, no be me start am.

"How that one take proper? Ifeoma, she—"

He choke, words jam for throat.

"She wetin?" I look am, small smile for my face.

I dey dare am make he talk am finish.

His face turn red, but he no fit talk.

Pride no gree am confess say Ifeoma get his heart.

I know wetin he wan talk: Ifeoma na the one wey dey his heart. How she go be like other people?

Even for silence, truth dey dance for air. I pity am small, but I no show am.

I talk calm:

"If Your Highness feel say she dey suffer, why you no ask His Majesty make her queen?"

Na simple solution. If e sure for am, make he fight for her.

Second wife veil na peach pink—why you dey do like say e serious pass?

I dey try hold laugh, but my face dey straight.

If you dey fear say your love go suffer, why you no just collect blessing, marry her as main wife quick?

I look am, my eye cold. His mouth dey open, but no word dey come.

But you no get mind.

He get big name, but small courage when e reach love matter.

As expected, he vex, glare me, then laugh cold:

He show teeth, but the laugh no sweet.

"So na so daughter of Chief’s house dey behave."

He spit the words, as if my family offend am for dream.

"Since you no gree give Ifeoma face, on our wedding day, no blame me if I no give you any."

He dey warn me, but I no send. Na old trick.

I just keep quiet. That time, Ifeoma come find am. I shift, wave hand:

I step aside, give dem space. I fit hear small wahala for my spirit, but I keep my mouth closed.

"Your Highness, abeg."

My voice soft, but my eye tell am say make he comot.

He hiss, waka go, fling his agbada.

The cloth almost knock breeze, but I just watch am waka far.

But Ifeoma no follow am quick.

She dey linger, her step light, her face dey shine with small joy.

She stop, look me, her smile get small pride inside:

She dey show teeth, but her eyebrow dey up, like say she win something.

"Sister, you see am? For this life, na me go wear crown before you."

Her words sharp like needle. She wan remind me say she dey win, even if na second wife.