Chapter 2: The Weight of Stolen Lives

The medical people confirm say Mama Nnena don die. When my mama reach hospital, she dey pet me as I dey cry. She no blame me say I no find the medicine quick. Everybody think say na accident kill her.

My mama tie two wrappers, kneel down for mortuary corridor, dey pray. She no let me sleep alone for that first week. Neighbours carry cooler of jollof rice, some bring malt, everybody dey say “Ndo, take heart.” But for my mind, something dey disturb me. I dey look everybody eye, dey wonder if dem sabi my secret.

But after the burial, I begin notice say something no pure. Suddenly, I sabi do things wey I never learn before—cook, sew, even farm work. But I no get any memory say I learn am. The knowledge just appear for my head.

I dey dream sometimes say I dey with Mama Nnena for her kitchen, dey cut ugu leaf. Sometimes, I go dey sing one old Igbo song, and my mama go ask me, "Who teach you that one?" I go just laugh, say na school. But my mind dey fear. Sometimes for dream, I dey hear her voice: “If pikin no chop, e no go grow.”

One day, I taste the shredded yam wey I fry by myself. E taste exactly like Mama Nnena own. Na that time I understand: all these things, na from her head e come.

Even the small way she dey fold moi-moi leaf, the way she dey use palm oil fry okra—everything just dey flow for my hand, as if I don dey do am since I born.

From that moment, one kind wicked suspicion enter my mind. I hide am deep inside, no tell anybody. But the thing just dey grow for my chest.

For night, I go dey wake, sweat dey my body, dey look my hand. I go ask myself, "Na me be this? Or na Mama Nnena dey live inside me now?" Fear dey pursue me, but I no fit tell anybody. I begin dey quiet pass before.

...

For junior secondary, my result bad. I nearly no fit enter ordinary secondary school. By luck, one girl for my class wey dey always get better result dey live for my area. We dey ride bicycle go and come from school together. To talk true, I dey envy her. With her kind result, she fit enter the best school for town.

Her name na Folake. Her papa be landlord, dem get fine compound, flowers everywhere. Sometimes, after lesson, she go carry me go their house, give me small Chin Chin. But any time I see her books, jealousy go burn me for chest.

The day before the entrance exam, during break, I sneak enter bike shed, use small stone shift the brake wire, my hand dey shake. I no fit even explain why I do am. I no sure say I really wan kill her. I just wan test that suspicion wey dey worry me since.

As I dey use small stone to shift the brake line, my heart dey beat like generator. Sun dey hot, sweat dey my brow. I look left and right, make sure nobody dey see me. Na so I waka comot quietly.

On our way home, as God go do am, we reach junction as one big trailer just run red light. She no fit stop, the trailer jam am for my front, she die there. The trailer driver dey drive tired, no sleep for two days. Last last, dem talk say na accident. Nobody suspect me.

Blood stain dey road, people dey cover mouth, somebody pour water for ground. People gather, dey shout, "Yeh! See as trailer just finish am!" I stand there, leg dey shake, but tears no come. For night, my mama hug me say, "Thank God say na you no die." But my mind no dey there.

Later, as I dey write exam, all those hard questions just dey easy for me. When result come out, I carry tenth position for the whole class, enter the school wey I dey dream for. Everybody say na luck, dey envy me. I just smile, no argue. Dem dey right—I really lucky pass most people.

Inside me, I dey laugh small. All the maths wey I no sabi before, e come dey easy, like say na water. I dey answer teacher with confidence. For once, I dey feel important.

Sometimes, as I dey answer question for class, I go pause—who teach me this one? My own hand dey shock me.