Sold to the Chief’s Son: My Husband’s Secret Wife

Sold to the Chief’s Son: My Husband’s Secret Wife

Author: Veronica Petersen


Chapter 4: Home Shadows

Night market dey open for midnight, close for morning.

I carry basket of vegetable go house, from far I see say the door dey half open.

Ifedayo wear green cloth, don wash sotey the colour don fade, dey sweep compound.

Morning mist still dey hang for ground, dew soak my slippers. The broom for him hand dey dance small small, sand no even dey raise. E clean compound like person wey dey look for peace inside trouble.

As e see me, e stand well, smile, him eye shine like mango blossom for early rainy season.

"Wife, you don come."

"Why you waka go farm so early? Cold dey—morning dew dey heavy. Abeg, make you no catch cold."

The way e talk, e sweet like palmwine for tongue, but my mind dey suspect. Person wey get secret dey always overdo kindness.

E waka come meet me, collect basket for one hand, use the other hand hold my own make e warm.

"Your hand cold like ice—na cold catch am? Enter house go warm up. I don make your favourite stewed pear soup."

I just dey look am, lost.

Na the Ifedayo I sabi—my husband.

Juju woman, after sixteen, must waka go find juju insects.

That year, I jam Ifedayo for Benue side as e dey travel go read book.

Him and him friends go climb mountain, accident catch dem.

After I help Ifedayo, e begin follow me everywhere like shadow.

Anywhere I go, e go dey.

Later, we use God and ancestors as witness, bow for one small church altar.

Juju women no get plenty marriage wahala like city people. If we like person, na to marry be that.

No need for plenty bride price or big wedding, just heart wey dey true.

Ifedayo talk say e no get mama and papa, na far people raise am.

I follow am go Ibadan, stay for one village near the city.

Ifedayo promise say once e pass exam, e go carry me go meet him people.

If I count am, in seven days, e go write exam.

"Wetin dey your mind?"

Ifedayo use finger tap my nose soft, him eyes full of love.

"You don tire?"

For my heart, question full ground. But for Yoruba home, woman no dey ask man heavy talk before food. I bone, manage smile.

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