Chapter 2: The Cycle Repeats

My hand just move go the spot where that tear fall.

For my mind, e be like say the spot still dey hot. I fit swear say that tear dey mark my soul forever.

Once upon a time, we don old together—body don weak, no be like before.

Our skin don soft, hands dey shake, voice don low. We go dey sit for front of house, dey look small pikin play, dey remember old days.

He dey sick for bed, me sef don wrinkle, hair don gray.

Na me dey rub balm for him back, dey pray make God just give us small more time together. Neighbours dey pity us, but we dey content.

But as I touch my skin now, e dey soft and smooth, the dream just scatter.

I look my hand, surprise catch me. E be like say I dey borrow body from another person. All the wrinkles, pain, everything just disappear.

This year—

Na 2002, new millennium vibes still dey everywhere. People dey rush buy mobile phone, but for our village, na the same old story. Life just continue.

I, Morayo, still never marry, and Musa Ifedike dey near eighteen.

See wahala. This time, I still be small girl for house, people dey disturb my mama say time dey go. Musa just dey start life, all him swagger never finish.

This day for my last life, na that time dem just promote am.

I dey remember the celebration that time—talk, music, even the masquerade wey dance for street.

Full of pride and energy, he ride horse for all of Okeoma, see all the spring flowers in one day, come meet my cousin for the palm grove outside town.

The breeze that day fit cool hot soup. Musa waka with him head high, people dey hail am as e pass. Flowers dey fall for ground, air just sweet.

Na there dem connect, become close, dey gist everything.

The two of them just dey sit down for under palm tree, dey laugh. I pass that place that day, but I no know say na beginning of big story.

He hear from my cousin say dem dey pamper me for house, say I sharp and lively.

Zainab no dey ever keep quiet. She just dey praise me give Musa, say "Morayo na correct babe, she sabi everything." Na so Musa begin dey notice me from corner eye.

So every festival, Musa go invite both of us sisters, add three or four people join.

Any small celebration, na to call both of us, make we follow go. Sometimes, e go add other friends join, make e no be like say him get favourite.

No be say I no suspect say Musa like my cousin.

For mind, I dey observe. My spirit dey tell me say something dey go on, but I dey pretend say I no notice.

But he never show any sign.

E no show for body, Musa just dey act coded. No touch, no secret message, nothing. I dey wonder if na me dey overthink.

Even when my cousin suffer die for her husband house, he just answer coldly: "I know."

When news reach Musa, e just talk am like say e no concern am. I surprise, but I no fit ask question.

Later, when he hear say my cousin in-laws no gree bury her body,

I shock. For our place, no be small thing if in-law no gree bury woman. Na big wahala. E pain all of us.

na me beg Musa make he carry my cousin ashes come house.

I kneel down, beg am well well. Musa no talk, but later, na him use him own hand go collect her ashes. People for village respect am after that.

But this same day, month, and year—why he come propose to my cousin?

The thing just dey scatter my head. I dey ask God, "Why you do me like this again?" Na the same day for my past life—why e turn upside down?

But e get as e be. Mama always talk say, "No use another person joy measure your own." But e no dey easy.

The hall full, everywhere dey lively.

Even the drummers dey play ogene, women dey dance, children dey run up and down. The air thick with the smell of fried plantain and new wrappers.

Musa and my cousin na the main people for the day, everybody dey hail and joke with them.

Na dem be king and queen for the moment. Old women dey use them gist for side, young girls dey eye them, dey pray for their own turn.

Grandma don old well well.

Her back don bend, voice dey crack, but her mind still sharp. She dey sit for special stool, dey look everything.

She just ask Musa, "When you wan marry?"

She talk am with small smile for corner of mouth, eyes dey shine. All the small children gather, dey wait answer.

Musa face steady, him answer calm, no rush at all.

He no even let nerves show. He stand like man wey don ready for anything. Everybody respect am for that.

He just talk say he wan marry my cousin quick quick.

No time to waste, na him talk. "I go like marry Zainab as soon as possible," Musa announce. Crowd just dey shout.

I dey observe am.

I just dey one corner dey peep. I wan read him body, wan see if na real or if something dey hide.

I notice say him different from before.

The Musa for this life dey serious, matured face, no be that small boy wey dey play for river side. E surprise me.

For my last life, that eighteen-year-old Musa never see wahala from him stepmother, so him still dey act like small pikin.

Back then, Musa dey play like goat wey just chop cassava leaf, no wahala. Na this life shape am quick.

When we dey go river, he like splash water for my body, then go pick hibiscus flower give my cousin.

He go run, throw water for my body, laugh, then pluck that red flower give Zainab. Na small things dey show love that time.

For New Yam Festival, he go let my cousin choose yams wey he guess, the rest na for me.

He dey playful, but always put Zainab first for some things. I just dey look, dey feel small jealousy.

That moment, everything clear for my eye.

E be like say old gist dey replay for new radio. I just know say something don connect for this life and the last one.

He sef must don get the same dream as me.

How else e go explain? Maybe e dey remember too, even if na only for sleep.

Now wey dream don scatter, make we both wake up.

Time to move on, abeg. No use old story tie my leg. If God say na so e go be, I go accept am.