Chapter 1: Wahala Pikin No Dey Change

The third year wey I dey try redeem that wahala pikin, but him stubbornness still strong like cement.

Na wah o, three whole years and the matter still stubborn. For our side, if person carry your palava reach like this, dem for don talk say I too try. But this one, Timi, e head hard pass stone. Sometimes, I dey reason whether na jazz dey follow am, because even all my church prayers and fasting no gree move am. My auntie for Ajegunle go just shake head say, "Person wey no wan gree, even angel go tire."

He no gree talk to me, no wan make I near am at all.

E dey carry face like say I be market woman wey dey owe am money. You sabi those kain people wey go dey act like say your existence dey disturb dem? Na so e dey do. Even if breeze blow my side, e go shift away small, as if I dey carry wahala come.

Even the gifts wey I dey buy for am—e go just tear am, throw am inside dustbin.

My chest go dey do me one kain, but I go just pick the pieces, hide my tears. The thing dey pain me, sha. Sometimes, I go squeeze through Balogun market, traders dey hail, sun dey burn, but I still buy the drawing book with last card. I go tie am well with ribbon, write small note join. But as Timi see am, e go just tear am without even look. The last time, e even scatter the chocolate on top, pour everything for gutter. The chocolate just melt for gutter, ants rush am sharp sharp. Omo, e no easy.

But once the main babe show, na so e go blush, bend head, dey shy, dey present the drawing wey e don prepare with care.

You for see as e dey change like harmattan breeze wey turn to rain. The same hand wey dey tear my gift, na him dey gentle, dey arrange paper for Zainab. Even the way e dey hold pencil, e soft. Na wa o, man pikin.

At last, I just give up.

My mind just break small. I no fit carry person wey no want make you near am for head again. For Naija, dem dey talk say, "No be by force to carry load wey no be your own." I just tire.

I waka go meet the main babe, make we talk.

I fit no reach her level, but at least I fit clear my chest, abeg. Sometimes, e good make you talk true, even if e go pain small.

I dey prepare to travel go abroad.

As I dey pack my small Ghana-Must-Go, my mind dey heavy. To dey leave Naija no dey easy, but sometimes, to start again na the best thing.

Abeg, fit you help me look after Timi for your family?

I dey look Zainab Musa face, dey beg with soft voice. "I know say your people get better heart. If una fit carry Timi, e go better for am." For my mind, I just dey pray make she no vex for the wahala I wan drop for her head.