Chapter 6: Truth for Blood

Musa dey look me, im eye cold, like say e wan bite me.

Wetin I talk remind am of old days, how e leave everything for me, but I throway am because of money.

My stomach dey pain me. I no wan talk again, I turn to go, next thing, I feel weightless—Musa carry me for shoulder.

E resemble conductor wey dey drag passenger for bus stop, cigarette for mouth, carry me commot bar.

People dey look. I dey struggle, dey tell am make e drop me.

E slap my yansh, dey shout, “Ifeoma, maybe for my last life I offend you, na why you dey punish me like this...”

E throw me inside car, press my leg, hold my face, dey curse, “Sometimes, I fit finish you.”

E face show say e hate me, but im eye dey show say e still love me.

The way e dey talk, e voice shake, e dey press me like say e dey fight ghost inside. Old feelings wey never die dey dance for air, na only both of us sabi the meaning.

My stomach pain no let me talk. I dey sweat, dey look am.

Musa open glove box, bring out stomach medicine, force am for my mouth.

I see for the corner, my old lipstick wey I no fit throway, hair tie wey don cut, and pink hair clip wey Musa buy for me before...

Everything about me, e still dey keep.

My tears just drop. I turn my face, wipe am before Musa see.

After all these years, e still remember my weak stomach, still dey buy pain medicine keep for me.

But I harden my mind, use all my power, push am.

I force smile, tell am, “Musa, abeg leave me. You dey worry me.”

“You no sabi? I don marry, I get pikin. No dey chase old story.”

“You still wan come back? Musa, no dey disgrace yourself.”

E shift back two steps, freeze.

As I wan go, e hold me for car, grip my neck, voice dey shake, “Ifeoma, I no believe you.”

“Better tell me say na play you dey play, else I go finish you.”

I look am straight, talk calm, “Okay, make I show you.”

I carry Musa go children hospital. Around nine in the night, light still dey for ward.

I stand for outside, through the glass, I point the small pikin wey dey read inside, tell Musa, “Na my pikin be that.”

Im name na Chisom, my small treasure.

E resemble me, but e get Musa character—caring, gentle, stubborn small.

E carry all the good things from Musa. Na correct pikin.

But e sick. Never reach six years, skinny, but obedient sotey e dey pain person.

Musa look the pikin for long, then punch wall hard.

E bend head, I think say tear drop from im eye. I never see am like that before.

That night, last thing Musa talk be, “Ifeoma, you get mind.”

E no ask who born the pikin.

E no even know say na im own.

I look Musa that night, the moonlight faint for hospital corridor, everything just silent. My heart dey jump. The nurse walk pass, nod me, she sabi say our wahala deep, e no be today. The way Musa hold his fist, I know say e dey fight tears. Na only God know the kind wound wey dey between man and woman for this country.