Chapter 4: Family Storm

For dining table, tension thick like ogbono soup.

Papa dey clear throat, dey form say all dey normal. Mama dey dish rice, smile wide like say her cheek wan tear.

Dem try ginger talk, dey ask Obinna about work, about him people, when e go travel. Each answer short pass the last.

But Obinna just dey chop, posture straight, eye far.

He no join for their talk at all.

The more dem try, the more the air just dey heavy. Silence loud pass their words. Papa hand dey shake as he refill cup.

My sister just dey, face dark, no talk.

She dey poke food, dey wound dodo with fork like say dodo offend her.

Me, I no fit touch food, dey use tiny bite dey manage rice.

Throat dry, food taste like sawdust. I dey count each grain as I swallow.

Finally, after meal, mama and papa look like people wey finish marathon.

Mama even use napkin clean sweat, mutter, "Thank God."

Just as Obinna wan leave, I remember something, call am.

“Mr. Obinna, wait.”

Everybody shock—even Obinna.

Even steward peek from kitchen. My heart dey pound, but I force myself stand.

His brow wrinkle, impatience clear.

“Just one second, abeg.” I show small gap for finger.

Voice small but I try form bold. “Na small thing, I promise.”

With that, I run upstairs, come down quick with old tin box.

Lid scratch, I hold am with two hand, fingers dey shake.

All eyes for me.

I open tin, ask,

“Mr. Obinna, na your own?”

Inside, more than dozen passport photos—some small, some big.

No be official.

Some get stamp, some get dried glue—obviously tear from somewhere.

Obinna for the photo still fine, but younger.

Apart from photos, other things dey: sweet wrapper, empty cigarette pack, pen refill, rough script…

Obinna look me, eyes sharp like blade.

He stare sotey I almost drop tin. My palm dey sweat.

I grit teeth before I fit talk again.

“I find am for corner of my closet. I no know who put am. But I see your photo, so I think say na your own, abi?”

Voice dey tremble. I try act casual but the shake for my voice expose me. I wait, dey bite inside cheek.

Obinna eye flicker, as if dey search for something.

Being stared like that, I shrink back, shoulder drop.

He say:

“No be my own. Just throway am.”

Voice dry, flat. E no even look tin again.

“Oh. Okay.”

I throw am for dustbin, wan go upstairs.

Leg heavy, head dey buzz with shame.

Suddenly, Obinna eye flash danger.

“Kamsi, you do am on purpose, abi?” he call me.

Tone sharp, almost accuse. Everybody look me.

I confuse.

“Eh?”

He look me as if e dey see through everything, eye dey mock, scoff,

“Nothing. Your acting dey okay. No need do am next time. I no dey interested.”

With that, he waka go.

Him footsteps echo for corridor, leave silence wey press my ear.

Mama lock door.

Her lips thin. I know say wahala dey next.

My sister wey dey hold herself since, finally break down, cry for table.

She cover face, sob dey loud and raw. The kain cry wey make person wan hide.

Papa no fit hold am, slap land for my face.

Sound sharp, ear ring. Cheek burn sharp.

I no expect am, fall for floor.

Leg buckle, hit ground with thud. Tile cold, pride scatter.

My head jam table edge.

E pain me—buzz for brain.

White spots dey dance for my eye. I touch forehead, hand come out red.

Mama, heart broken, hug my sister, talk to me,

“Kamsi, no blame your papa. Tonight, you really disgrace us.”

She hug Chisom close, voice dey shake with pain.

“You forget how many times I warn you?”

She almost dey shout. “How many times? Na until you destroy our hope you go rest?”

“Why you go downstairs without say I allow? Why you talk to am? You really shameless?”

Blood dey drip enter my eye, everything red.

Room dey spin. My ear full with my own heartbeat.

I hold wound, try explain.

“I sorry, I think say he don go. I no mean am…”

Words fall flat. Nobody listen. Pain crack my voice.

Suddenly, my sister grab my collar, scream madly:

“Running downstairs like that, bare foot for him front, even bring out that stupid box—Kamsi, who you dey try seduce?”

Her grip tight, collar dey choke me. I struggle but she strong.

'—She used to braid my hair and buy me suya after school. Now her hands just hurt.'

“You know who Obinna be? You know your own level? How you take get mind dey look am?”

Her spit land my cheek. Head dey pound from earlier blow.

“You sabi say because of your shamelessness tonight, I fit lose am?”

Voice crack, anger and fear dey mix. She shake me harder.

“You no fit survive without man? Even your sister boyfriend you dey eye?”

With that, she waka go.

She carry bag and key, leg stamp ground, sob dey echo for corridor.

Mama rush try stop am.

“Chisom, where you dey go this time?”

Words lost as Chisom bang front door.

Chisom glare me with hate.

She pause for door, fire for eye. "If anything happen, I swear, Kamsi, you go regret am."

“In this house, na me or her. If she dey, I dey go.”

Soon, I hear car start for garage.

Engine roar, tyre screech comot compound. My heart dey hammer.

Mama sigh heavy.

Her hand dey shake. She lean wall, close eyes.

Papa slam door, vexed.

House shake. Him slippers dey scrape tile as he waka go.

I talk quiet.

“I go stay out tonight.”

Voice low, lost for the noise wey everything dey break.

Mama pause.

“Where you wan go?”

Her eye red, but she no come near. She just dey look me from far, hand fold tight.

“I go stay for hotel. For abroad, na so I dey do—I used to am.”

Back then, I no fit bear torture. Any chance, I dey run from hospital.

I go cheapest motel, just to escape those treatment wey dem arrange.

But my sister dey always find me quick, carry me back.

She go show for door, face hard, drag me hand even if I dey resist.

Mama quiet long, finally nod, say,

“Tonight na your fault. Go out. When your sister calm, I go call you come back.”

She no look me again as I limp upstairs pack small bag, blood still drip for my face.

I didn’t know if I was running from them—or from myself.