Chapter 4: Loss and Acceptance

My papa na chief’s doctor. I be pikin from second wife, my mama die early, but my papa love me well.

Every Sallah, he go buy me new lace, fry dodo for me, call me "small madam." Even as second wife, he dey always defend my mama right for family meeting.

After my papa die, my stepmother try collect all the property, wan sell all second wife pikin give traffickers.

She wicked no be small. Dem say her heart hard like kpankpan. She no gree let us even chop leftover rice. When papa die, she call local touts make dem carry us for night.

The night before dem come carry us, I go beg one poor teacher wey I dey always give food.

That teacher, Ibrahim, na orphan. Him cloth always rough, voice gentle. My papa dey pity am, give am small change for school.

I hear say he just pass WAEC, but he no gree open door.

Inside, him voice sound like stone. "Halima, abeg, I no fit open door tonight."

He stand inside, voice cold: “Halima, I don already engage Chief’s daughter. Men and women no suppose mix, so I no fit open door. Take this pouch of money as thank you for the food you give me. Abeg, dey go.”

He add small, "Na the way my people do. Woman no suppose enter bachelor room for night." Him voice low, but sharp.

He throw the money pouch over the fence.

The pouch land near my leg. I look am, na old ankara purse, money small inside. My chest tight. I carry am, tears threaten my eyes.

My heart pain me like say needle dey poke am.

I stand for gate, no fit move. I remember every time I share food for am, hope say he go rescue me. But na just ordinary money he get for me.

Later, I fight my stepmother for street.

She drag my hair, call me all sorts of name. Neighbours gather, nobody help me. My heart strong, I no gree let her break me.

She threaten say if I try am again, she go sell me enter brothel.

She hiss, "Na only ashawo house go fit train you!" My body shake with anger and fear.

Na so Chief’s wife waka pass, see as I dey suffer, buy my contract, carry me come her house as maid.

Chief’s wife, Madam Rukayat, get soft heart. She see me, call me, "My daughter." She no let my stepmother touch me again. Since then, na her house I dey serve.

Not too long, that teacher marry my Aunty.

I hear say dem do small wedding, kill two chickens. My Aunty wear new gele, show off for compound. The teacher act like say he no know me again.

I bone, act like say I no know am, dey serve Aunty well.

I greet am "Good afternoon, oga," like stranger. For my mind, I dey build wall make nobody fit reach my heart again.

But she still catch me.

Aunty sharp eye. Even when I dey try avoid teacher, she still dey suspect me. Sometimes, I hear am ask, "Halima, you and Ibrahim get old gist?"

No need fight again.

I just surrender, accept my fate. Sometimes, I dey talk with God for heart, beg make better thing meet me one day.

I raise my skirt, kneel down in front of Mama Musa: “Mama, I gree marry General Musa, make luck follow am, serve you for your old age.”

My voice steady, even as my body shake. I press my forehead for ground, respect Mama Musa. For our place, na big thing to kneel for elder, especially for marriage matter.

I look myself for mirror, chest full, waist small, lips red, hand fair, eye dey shine like say water dey inside.

If this body na blessing, why e dey bring me only pain?