Chapter 3: For Pikin Sake

I rush go front, carry Chinonso enter my arms. I know say I no fit offend these kind people, so I bow my head well, talk with respect:

As I kneel, my knees touch the rough tar, sharp stone dey bite through wrapper. I remember all the times wey life humble me, but na for pikin sake, I dey ready do anything.

'If I no beg now, dem fit carry pikin go, or worse. For this city, woman wey no get power na dust.'

"Young Master, I no sabi wetin this pikin do wey vex you. Abeg, forgive am for my sake."

My voice quiver small, but I force am steady. For dis Nigeria, sometimes na mouth dey save life.

Silence just hold everywhere for inside the car. Person lift the curtain, I feel one hot eye dey burn me.

The air thick, even the street noise no enter this side again. I feel like say God dey watch.

I bow even lower.

The noble young master ask, soft soft: "You dey beg for am? Who you be for this pikin sef?"

The voice no loud, but pride full am. This kind question fit break person.

I answer, "Na me be im mama."

No shame, no lie. I talk am from my heart, even if na only God believe.

Somehow, the young master vex come high. E laugh one kind wicked laugh. "Okay, beg then. But you wan stand so?"

The laugh dey cut my chest. I just tell myself say make I endure—na so dem dey do people wey no get power.

I get the message sharp sharp, kneel down, knock my head for ground till e make sound.

As my forehead touch ground, dust enter my nose. For village, dem dey say person wey humble for earth, God go raise am. But for here, I no sure.

I don used to am—in the past, anytime those big people vex, person like me no get choice but to kneel and bow head.

I no dey shame; na only to endure I fit survive.

But Chinonso fear catch am. Na pikin wey no dey cry, but now e dey wail, dey try pull me up: "Mama, mama, abeg stop! Na my fault!"

E grab my wrapper, tears just dey drop for im face. E no wan make I suffer for im head.

Funny enough, the young master sef shock. I never even kneel and knock head reach two times before the guard rush come drag me up.

The shock for young master face show say e no expect I go humble reach like that. Maybe dem never see woman knock head with such force, beg for pikin.

But the broken stone wey hide under sand don scratch my forehead, blood dey blur my eye. I no even see the young master face well.

Blood dey warm for my palm, but shame dey cold for my heart.

Pain dey bite me, but na Chinonso cry dey worry me pass. For my mind, I dey pray make this drama end.

As I see say dem no wan do wahala again, I hold Chinonso hand—e still dey cry—carry am waka comot bridge, my eyes for ground. I no look back, but my heart dey bleed pass my wound.

Chinonso leg dey shake, e grip my fingers tight. Crowd just dey clear road for us, some people dey look us with pity, others just waka pass. Na only Mama Kemi voice I hear faintly, dey pray under her breath.

Everywhere quiet like grave. Breeze just dey blow, small small dust dey fly.

The moon don shift small, shadow long for ground. I feel like say the ancestors dey watch us.

Who go believe say from inside car, one correct man voice just sigh: "This cold too much. Enter inside."

Na that moment, my heart wey just calm down freeze again. Even the cold wey touch my face be like needle, dey pain me everywhere.

Inside my chest, I dey beg God make trouble no come again tonight. I grip Chinonso arm, whisper make e calm.