Chapter 6: The Cost of Plenty

Early morning, my mama finally stretch, waka comot.

Her wrapper drag ground, face fresh like person wey win money. I no even wait, I jump.

I rush enter my sister room.

The air heavy, like market after rain, with thick smell of palm oil and blood. I see her, she dey lie down, eyes half-close.

She dey naked for bed, her face white like chalk. Blood stain dey the wrapper for bed.

I shock. I wan cover her, but hand dey shake. The wrapper soak, red everywhere. I nearly cry.

I call her name many times before she slow slow come back.

Her lips dey move small, like she dey talk for dream. When she see me, she force small smile, but her eyes empty.

I wan talk, but my mama shout cut me short.

Mama voice land for corridor, "Wetin you dey do there? Come out sharp sharp!"

I run go see wetin dey happen.

Na fear dey push me. My heart dey beat, I rush come out.

My mama face red with joy. Goat pen full everywhere with fat, shiny meat snakes—three, five together, even more than before.

Snakes dey move everywhere, pen full. Mama dey dance, people dey gather. She dey count her blessings, voice loud.

She dey dance, say, “God don butter my bread!”