Chapter 4: Thunder for Table

As the recording finish, all the ginger wey Chisom get before just die. Shoulder drop, mouth twist, eye no fit meet my own. Even Papa Okafor clear throat, Mama Okafor dey look wall.

But me, I no gree let am go. I look am straight for eye. My stare dey sharp, like knife. My chest dey rise, but my mouth steady. I wan make dem know say I dey serious.

I don reach sixteen. Since na me and Ifunanya dem swap, her birthday suppose near my own. My mind dey go back to childhood—how people dey talk say I no belong, how I fight to prove myself. Today na another test.

"At sixteen, if person dey earn money, law don see am as adult." I remember street days—how I hustle, repair laptop, run errand, even teach for neighborhood lesson. At sixteen, na so person dey hustle for Lagos.

Before I move in, I ask her many times if na her wish. I dey look Ifunanya face again, make she no say I no force am. For Naija, na so dem dey do—ask, confirm, ask again.

"Na only when she talk yes many times, I move in. I no see how I do wrong." My voice steady, no shake. My heart dey beat hard, but I no go let tears drop.

Chisom still wan argue: "You no see say Ifunanya no really gree? She just—"

He raise hand, voice high, but I no allow am finish. "She just wan make the family notice her, or maybe dey try clear her conscience, or maybe wan show herself because of the pressure say she be the real daughter."

I cut am off. "But anyhow, person suppose stand by wetin e talk."

I look Ifunanya. "No be so, my sister?" I wait, give her chance to talk. Even though I dey vex, I want truth make e show.

"And you, my brother." I turn back to Chisom. I let my eye linger, make am feel my pain. For this life, family suppose protect, no be judge.

I no know if you don find out about me, but I don find out about you. I dey throw small shade—make am know say I sabi him level, no be only me dey get wahala.

You always get better result for school, and even though you never graduate, you dey work with Okafor Group for important projects.

As I talk, Ebuka face dey look ground, Ifunanya just dey sniff, but I no pause.

"So I no believe say you no sabi see wetin dey happen or know wetin correct." I dey look am, my eye steady. For this house, truth dey hide, but today, e go show.

I just glance at Ebuka, wey brain dey overheat. He dey scratch head, sweat for face. E no know whether to support me or run go meet Ifunanya.

Whether na because you too care and you lose guard, or you dey support Ifunanya to make things hard for me, I feel say you suppose apologize.

"Because no matter how you look down on me, na lie you talk say I collect Ifunanya room, no evidence."

I drop the words, eye still dey burn. For my mind, I dey shout: make justice dey!

As I talk, Chisom face come change. He dey shift for chair, jaw tight. Him pride dey clash with truth.

Chisom slap table, spoon jump, him eye red. "No dey carry your wahala come this house!" Him voice tremble. The whole table shock.

"Zikora, your brother just misunderstand, abeg, no need for am to apologize, abi?" Mama Okafor try to beg. Her voice soft, her hand dey tremble. She dey hope say small word go make storm calm.

But I just look Chisom for eye. I no blink. My silence dey talk pass words. For street, na so person dey stand for right, no matter the cost.

Until Papa Okafor vex, knock table. The sound loud, everybody jump small. For Naija, when papa knock table, matter don pass play.

"Enough! Person just come house, wahala don start? Must you scatter this house?" His voice thunder, eye dey red. The authority clear—no pikin fit talk back.

Everywhere quiet, and Ebuka shrink like rat. You fit hear my heart beat for my chest. Ebuka just dey chew lips, Ifunanya dey sob quietly, Mama Okafor dey twist wrapper.

Me, I just close eyes, sigh, regret full my mind. I dey think of Mama Ireti—how she for tell me make I calm down, no let anger spoil my own.

I carry my recorder, stand up, go upstairs, pack my suitcase, and waka comot from the Okafor family compound.

As I pack, I see the sky for window—twilight dey fall, birds dey fly go nest. I tell myself, "If home no welcome you, road still dey."