Chapter 1: Family Arrangement, Family Betrayal

Olawale Adegoke na the childhood fiancé wey my parents choose for me.

The first time wey Olawale enter our house, I still remember as I kneel proper for floor, greet my papa, "E kaaro sir!" Olawale just drop for ground, chest flat, do that deep Yoruba prostration wey dey show respect. My papa nod with approval, my uncles dey smile, even my grandma whisper, "This one get home training."

E dey old-school, proper, always dey package himself like person wey no fit slack for public. Sometimes, e go arrange him kaftan so correct, you go think say e dey go greet governor—even if na only him dey house. E sabi greet elders with respect, always dey talk soft-soft, like say wahala no dey this world. The way him dey talk, e fit quench fire for market with just im soft voice. Even my uncles dey respect am.

Since I small, I don dey like am.

But as e gentle reach, e still dey keep body for me, like say e no too send me. Sometimes e go just look me with that im brown eye, smile small, but nothing go come out. E no dey give me that kind attention wey dey make my body do gish-gish. Na only when elders dey around, e go allow make I near am. Even my mama dey tease me say, "You sef, na only you dey carry face for Olawale, e no dey look your side!"

No matter how I try use style catch am, e no dey ever shake. Even when I wear my finest iro and buba, tie gele like party queen, e go just dey read Guardian newspaper as if I no dey exist. I go dress up, wear all those ankara skirt wey hug my body, spray perfume everywhere, waka pass am like say I no send, e go just dey clean shoe. Sometimes, e go even ask me, "Morayo, you don chop?" as if na only food dey my mind. My own frustration dey increase.

Until my long-lost, pitiful sister, Halima, come back.

Na so e begin allow am enter im life, dey do special things for am. I notice say im laugh dey longer whenever she dey around, e go dey buy all those expensive chocolates wey Halima like, dey drive her go spa, dey ask her if she wan travel. E go even dey escort her enter garden, dey pluck flowers give her. The scent of her vanilla perfume go just fill the garden, and her laughter—sharp, sweet like bell—go make everywhere light. Something wey e never do for me.

And anytime e need choose between both of us, e go just sharp sharp leave me aside, no even reason am. E go look my eye, talk say, "Morayo, abeg manage, I go come back." But e no ever come back. My papa sef notice, but e say, "No mind, na children play."

Na that time I come realise say, no be say e cold naturally—na just me e no dey show that soft side. E dey keep all im real self for Halima, dey treat me like old shoe.

I come tire for the whole matter, say e no get meaning again, so I decide to give them wetin dem want. After all, why I go dey drag person wey no want me? For Naija, no be by force to love, even if arrangement dey.

So I smile tell my parents, “Make the wedding continue as una plan—just change the bride to Halima.” I make sure my voice sweet, like person wey dey sell gala for traffic, so dem no go suspect anything. I even wear wrapper well, sit down like proper Yoruba girl.

The hospital room quiet reach to hear pin drop.

Dem no even first talk say I dey craze or anything. Everybody just dey look me like say dem dey see spirit. Even my uncle wey sabi shout, mouth open, but words no come out.

After dem look each other, dem ask me small small, “You sure say you don think am finish?” My papa voice low, e eyes dey beg, but I no gree shift.

I hiss, “No be una always dey talk say una owe her?”

“Since Halima come back, na so I forfeit my room, my clothes, even my parents. I waka comot from the old compound, now na only Olawale Adegoke remain wey she never collect.” I cross my leg, rub my palm for wrapper. My mama eye don red, my papa dey look floor like say im dey find lost coin.

My papa squeeze face, try change topic. “Yesterday na your fault sha.”

“Halima talk say she fall by herself, say e no concern you.” My mama wipe her tears add, “Morayo, abeg go apologise to your sister, ehn?” Her voice crack small, e pain me but I bone face.

“No.” I talk am with vex. “Anytime she set me up, una go still dey pamper her. Since I don ready to leave Olawale for her, make she pay the price too.” I no even look their side. My chest dey heavy, my hand dey shake small as I talk am.

For yesterday night party, Halima give me that her usual, sure smile from the top of the stairs.

She no talk anything, because she sabi say I fit dey record or dey film am. She too dey smart, ehn. She go just eye me, lips pressed tight like akara wey stubborn for oil, but her eyes dey shine with wahala.

But I sabi all her ways.

Since she come back at sixteen, she don perfect how to set person up.

See as she dey look me, I just weak. Na so I tell myself, "Morayo, if dem go still blame you, abeg do am with your chest."

“Abeg, you no need do all this wahala.”

As I talk finish, I just raise leg, push her down the stairs.

Since dem go still blame me, make I kuku do am myself. Better make I no dey suffer for another person mistake. My palm sweat, my heart dey hammer, but my mind just blank as I push. I close eye, push her, my heart dey beat like talking drum.

But I no expect say before she fall, she go hold my dress.

Drag me follow her go down.

Before I faint, na only one thing dey my mind: E pain me sha. Next time, I go kick harder. Na real wahala. Dem say two of us just roll for floor like pounded yam. But as I land, na only one thing dey my mind—this family wahala no go ever finish.