Chapter 3: Pepper Soup Names and Lost Years

The fluorescent light for the small office dey buzz anyhow. Ifedayo statement dey soak the paper with one kind cold feeling: "Oga police, I swear, I never go that place before. Since my papa carry me, the farthest wey I don reach na the town market."

As he dey talk, sweat just dey gather for him brow, harmattan cold or not. Na so the statement paper begin soft for the middle, as if fear dey soak am from the inside.

Inside their marriage certificate, one wedding photo from twenty years ago dey. The groom chin smooth like fresh egg wey dem just peel.

For the photo, the powder for face too much, as Naija tailor like to do—white shirt shine, face dey innocent like person wey never chop pepper soup before.

The boy look so fresh, like say if you pinch am, water go comot.

E get one kind baby-face, the type wey old women dey hail for church: "Fine boy, your mama try!"

I still remember as him dey complain to him wife, Halima, that time: "I talk am say make we no do am, you insist—see now, wahala don land."

Ifedayo voice get that Naija man pet-complain, like person wey dey dodge market runs.

Halima no gree at all: "If we no do am, wetin we go do then? If you no get ID, you no fit even collect vaccine! Besides, if your hand clean, why you go dey fear spirit for night? If you no do am, why you dey fear?"

Halima na true Naija woman—no nonsense, quick mouth, sharp like blade. She no let matter rest.

This their innocent love sef, dem no even realize how serious the matter don be. With that one fingerprint, the case nearly settle finish.

Dem dey do as if na small error, but this Naija, small wahala fit grow teeth sharp-sharp.

Na just to do routine check remain.

For police work, na so we dey talk—just routine check, but heart dey pound like drum for village festival.

To talk true, na Ifedayo need the new ID card.

For Nigeria, ID card na key to life. No ID, no transaction, no hospital, no NIN registration, nothing.

As I see their names, I just ask, small pikin way: "Una be husband and wife? Your names be like say una be siblings. One be Ifedayo, the other be Ifedolapo?"

I talk am with smile, but for my mind, I dey wonder how two people fit get name wey resemble reach this level. Some families for South West dey like that, generation naming dey strong.

"Na so e be. Dem bring am come our family, so my papa change him name. For our family, e suppose follow the 'Ifed' generation."

She talk am with pride, like say e be family tradition wey dey older than cocoa plantation for Ibadan.

"So, the name na after dem change am? Wetin be him original name?"

I bend closer, voice drop, make I no scare dem.

The suspect real name na Sani Musa.

For my mind, I dey think: the shift from Sani Musa to Ifedayo strong o—north to south, different culture.

"We no know. When my papa pick am, he nearly die, head wound bad, memory vanish. He no remember anything—even him own name."

Ifedolapo voice drop, her eyes look ceiling, like say she dey remember the pain of that year. Na true wahala bring Ifedayo enter their life.

Na for Idanre Hills, Baba Adebayo, him father-in-law, pick Ifedayo.

That Idanre Hill na place wey old tales dey grow. Spirit, story, hunter, all dey there. E no surprise me say na from that bush Ifedayo matter start.

That rainy season, twenty-two years ago, rain dey beat roof like talking drum, thunder dey grumble for distance. The old hunter go back bush find grasscutter wey flood scatter, but na mud man he carry come from gutter.

That rain, dem say, carry animal, carry fence, carry even sense commot from person head. For that kind rain, person fit lose way, or see spirit.

At first, Baba Adebayo think say na wild animal. As he drag am, na human being. The man right side head don tear, blood dey, but rain don wash him face white like ghost.

When e see say na human, Baba heart shake. The way rain dey beat the man ehn, e be like masquerade wey waka enter shrine by mistake.

One long knife scar dey for him left waist, more scary sef.

For Naija, scar get meaning—sometimes na street fight, sometimes na old ritual. Baba no too talk am.

He check—man still dey breathe.

Baba sigh, say make he try help—our people dey say, if you see person for trouble, you suppose stretch hand, before spirit vex.

Baba Adebayo mutter small prayer under him breath before he carry the boy enter house.

"No be bush spirit be this? Adebayo, na wahala you carry come o," the village seer spit for ground near the boy.

Na so elders dey behave for village, spit for ground, use prayer scatter evil.

Baba Adebayo no believe all those things. He boil ginger, add uziza leaf and ata rodo pepper, force the boy drink.

Ginger soup na medicine, na protection, na wake-up call for soul wey dey waka.

When the boy open eye, e sharp, but he no fit talk where him papa grave dey, no even fit remember him mama name.

Baba begin worry, say maybe na small madness or spirit waka enter the boy body.

Any question wey dem ask, na "I no know" be the answer.

Every question, every time, the boy mouth stuck on "I no know" like broken record. The thing pain Baba.

Baba Adebayo just shake head: "E never clear, maybe na wild animal scare am for bush. Ifedolapo, boil hot water make he baff, give am food—maybe he go remember."

Ifedolapo run to kitchen, as e be first daughter work—boil hot water, put Dettol, fetch wrapper.

The boy baff, chop two big akara, drink two bowl pap, still, every question, "I no know."

After that, Baba even put bitter leaf under pillow, hope say maybe e go help remember.

Baba Adebayo begin get headache. Abi the boy get wahala for head?

He even rub ori for the boy forehead, call church elder, pray small. Nothing change.

But after food and baff, the mud man begin shine, fine boy, lips red, teeth white.

You know that kind transformation—Naija food dey work wonders. From dead body to fine bobo.

Baba Adebayo ask, "How old you be?"

The boy talk, "Sixteen."

Baba eyes open, say maybe spirit no too strong inside am.

So, no be mumu.

He happy say at least, sense still dey.

He ask again, "Where you from? Wetin be your name?"

The boy just shake head: "I no remember."

For village, if person forget name, na big matter. People dey fear am.

"This scar for your waist nko?"

"I no know."

The answer dey short, but eyes dey sharp, like person wey dey watch snake for bush.

Baba Adebayo go ask chemist, chemist say, "Na amnesia. Maybe as he fall for gutter, head knack."

The chemist na old man, him own English dey mix, but the meaning strong.

"But why he remember age?"

"Selective amnesia."

That one na big grammar, Baba just nod. For our side, once chemist talk, na final.

Selective amnesia na better sickness—like say you drink that water wey dey make person forget everything. All the wahala memories just disappear.

For our land, people dey fear amnesia pass malaria—person fit forget name, forget village, start life anew, as if ogbanje waka enter.

What remain na fresh new pikin.

Na so e be. The boy just dey like fresh notebook, no line, no dot, only empty space.

Baba Adebayo always want boy pikin.

Na true. Every time for beer parlor, Baba dey complain say only girl dey house. Him eye dey always look other compound with plenty boys.

Him wife die for labour, leave only small girl, Ifedolapo, wey soft like kitten.

Ifedolapo na gentle soul—her voice soft, she dey quick cry. Na so people love her for market.

"Adebayo, you lucky o—a whole big boy just drop from sky, even get amnesia, so you no go fear say him real family go come find am. Just raise am as your own, wait make him and Ifedolapo grow, marry, make he help you for old age—no better life pass this."

Na so elders dey advise—if good thing drop, grab am, no look back.

Baba Adebayo spit for ground: "Na true! No remember him name? Better sef—him name now na Ifedayo. From today, call me Baba. You be my son now!"

Elders dey spit for ground to seal matter, to show say spirit agree.

Ifedayo kneel down, greet, "Baba!"

He knock head for floor, as culture demand. The greeting scatter old dust, even the crows for mango tree begin fly.

The sound of him kneeling scare the old crows for mango tree. Ifedolapo peep from behind curtain.

Small girl eyes dey shine, she dey shy, but something for her face show relief—maybe joy say she no go be alone again.

That year, by chance, Ifedolapo just turn sixteen. The red ribbon for her hair look like two drops of blood for the boy’s fresh shaved head.

Red ribbon for hair dey mean many things—beauty, celebration, small warning to village boys say, 'this one get person already.'

From that time, the small compound wey father and daughter dey manage, gain new energy. Baba Adebayo finally get the feel of having both son and daughter, every day him body sweet am.

No be small joy. Compound wey dey dull before, now dey bubble with laughter, aroma of goat meat, and sound of children play.

Ifedayo behave like new born lamb, dey call "Baba" steady, with joy.

His voice loud, laughter full compound, e dey always ready to help, even for market runs.

Baba Adebayo dey sip him palm wine, happy like say na festival.

Sometimes for evening, neighbors gather, Baba go boast say, 'see as my son dey strong!' Him joy no get limit.

The amnesia days sweet well.

For family like this, peace na gold. Amnesia turn to blessing—no past, no wahala, only now.

Ifedayo just blend for the family—as if he don dey do all the farm work since, like old farmer. But every time harmattan breeze blow, e dey shiver like person wey spirit dey call.