Chapter 3: Packing Out
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My mama and papa die early. My dowry no too big, but e no small either.
I remember the day dem bury my papa, rain no gree fall, but my tears no gree stop. My mama own, sickness carry am quick. From small, I learn to fend for myself. My dowry list get small gold chain, wrapper, old bronze, all my mother memories. I hold am like treasure.
All these years, I put all my mind for Odogwu house, my things don mix with Odogwu Nnamdi own.
Anything I get, I add to Odogwu house. My wrappers dey with his shirts, my pots dey for his kitchen. I forget say I get my own life before him.
I tell Chinyere make she check the dowry list, carry all my things come out.
She arrange everything for one big Ghana-Must-Go, dey count items one by one. Even the spoon wey my mama leave, she wrap am with soft cloth. I dey watch, memory dey flood me.
I send them commot for Odogwu house at night.
I no want drama. I plan everything for midnight. Chinyere and one gate man carry my load, use back door commot. My chest dey beat, but I no show fear. Night breeze dey cold, moonlight scatter for compound, dogs dey bark far.
I tell the steward make e check the shops wey Mama Nkechi dash me, prepare to change all the people wey dey inside.
The steward, Baba Musa, na faithful man. He no ask question, just nod. I trust am, so I give am instruction, "Abeg, remove Odogwu name for all the shop documents." Na my only legacy, I no fit lose am.
I come tell the house girls make dem wipe out anything wey fit remind person of me for the house.
My own flower pot wey I dey care for, I say make dem dash am to old woman for junction. All my framed pictures, Chinyere pack commot, so house go clean of my shadow. I wan disappear like breeze.
Especially the flowers and plants wey I dey grow since.
Those flowers, na my only joy for Odogwu house. Each one I plant with hope, now I pluck them one by one, hand over to Chinyere. My heart dey break small small.
Last last, I pack my load myself.
I carry my own bag, the weight no heavy but my spirit dey heavy. Even as Chinyere offer help, I say, "No, let me carry my own cross." I step out into the night, moonlight follow me.
Na small thing I get.
I look my things, na only two small boxes, nothing much. All my years, everything fit enter one okada.
Just some small jewelries.
I bring out my jewelry box—very small, just like sardine tin. Na the only thing wey remain from my mama and from Odogwu.
This pair of cowrie shell pendant—Mama Nkechi say make I choose husband. I dey fear say Odogwu Nnamdi no send me, but I no fit reject the marriage. So I give am scented sachet. E give me cowrie shell back.
That day, Mama Nkechi look me, smile say, "This your destiny tie with am." I remember the scented sachet—how I pour small perfume, wrap am with lace. Odogwu collect am, him own return na cowrie. For our side, cowrie mean good luck. I hold am till today.
That night, happiness no let me sleep.
That night, I dream better dream. I feel say future go sweet, like palmwine for festival. But now, the pendant just dey heavy for my neck, memory of things wey pass.
This gold hairpin—na the day wey I come back after wedding, Odogwu Nnamdi give me. He talk say even if I no get papa house again, from that day, make I see Odogwu house as my own mama house.
I remember the day clear, rain dey fall, but Odogwu bring out the gold pin, fix am for my hair, talk with soft voice, "No cry again. My house na your house." Tears fall for my eye that day, happiness carry me.
The thing touch me, I cry for corner.
Chinyere see me, she hug me, say, "Aunty, God go bless you." I feel loved, I feel at home.
This matching pendant—first Christmas after we marry, Odogwu Nnamdi bring am for me early morning. Both of us wear one each.
That Christmas, Odogwu surprise me, come room early, carry two box. "Wear am, make we dey match!" We snap photo, both of us dey shine. Neighbours hail us say, "Love dey sweet o!" For that moment, I believe am.
This ring, this hairpin, this green stone…
Each of them get story. The ring, na for our anniversary. The hairpin, na for my birthday. The green stone, he buy am from local chief trip. I dey arrange them, dey remember the way he dey smile before.
He really treat me well before. I believe say he love me that time.
I remember how he go market buy me yam, how he dey surprise me with chinchin. No be today things spoil, but I dey hold on to those small good memories.
But na only one year e last.
As the months waka, his love just dey reduce like pure water wey leak. I try patch am, but e no gree.
"Amaka, this house big reach like this, you still dey wait for me for parlour every time?"
Sometimes, I go sit for parlour, dey hope say he go come back early. He go see me, frown face, talk say, "No dey wait for me, I no be visitor."
"Amaka, I get work. Just stay your side, abeg."
Whenever I talk, na so he go brush me off, face his phone or waka go room.
"Amaka! You no dey tire person?"
If I laugh too much, he go shout. If I quiet, he go vex. I no fit please am. Marriage turn wahala.
Good thing for this world no dey last; rainbow go scatter, glass go break sharp sharp.
Na so happiness for my marriage vanish. Even rainbow no last, glass break easy. Na the story of my heart.
Even before Halima Musa show face, Odogwu Nnamdi don tire for me.
Before Halima enter picture, love already dry. Sometimes I ask myself, maybe na my fault. Maybe na so life be.