Chapter 1: Wahala Jam Concert and Exam

Na so WAEC exam jam my pikin artist concert for the same day—only for Naija you go see this kain wahala. As if NEPA decide say light and darkness fit just jam one day. That sun no get rival, but my pikin vex pass even the heat. She no even send say WAEC na passport to better life. For her eye, na only that concert get meaning.

My daughter fling her exam slip for ground, rush outside, shout, "Mummy, abeg! WAEC dey every year, but Femi concert na once! Yesterday for fan meet, he cry say na we dey give am ginger—how I go miss am?"

The way she throw that slip ehn, the paper just dey tremble for tile, as if e dey fear her hand. She rock that her red beret she dey call 'stan cap', face dey shine like she win sports bet. My neighbour, Mama Ibeji, dey peep from window, dey shake head, like say she be referee for our family wahala.

I no fit just watch. I chase her reach express, block her, tie her scarf, bundle her back inside keke napep to the exam hall. At last, she write the exam, enter correct federal university—carry the glory for head like new crown.

That day, na my mama spirit enter my body. The speed wey I use pursue her, even agbero for bus stop hail me. Keke driver dey look us for mirror, dey reason if na Nollywood script. When she pass WAEC, people dey hail me for canteen, say my hand strong for pikin matter. Graduation day, family dey shout: "Na true daughter of the soil!"

Next day, entertainment news scatter everywhere: top star dey hold hand with one mysterious girl for the concert.

AIT, Silverbird—dem no gree rest. Social media dey hot, like say election result drop. All her friends dey tag am, dey ask, "Na you? Na you?"

My daughter see the trending gist, her brain nearly off.

The way she hold her phone, you go think say na obituary she dey read. She dey shiver, mouth wide open, eyes red like onion dey worry am.

For her university admission party that night, she tear her admission letter, break her phone, shout: "The cloth wey that girl wear na the same style as my own! If you no stop me, na me for dey beside am now!"

All family gather, she scatter everywhere, her voice dey shake glass for window. Aunties dey whisper, "Dis one don pass artist craze."

That night, na she use her own hand push me from upstairs. The big insurance money, she use am buy artist merch, book concert ticket for her next fangirl waka.

Omo, na so my life end, dem just talk say 'na accident'. She no even cry for burial. Instead, she dey show her new Femi jacket for Facebook. Village people dey whisper, but nobody fit talk am out.

When I open my eyes again, I don land back to the day before WAEC exam.

E be like film trick. My neck still dey pain me, fear dey catch my chest. Same wall clock, same Koran for shelf, smell of akara from neighbour window. My daughter voice loud for background, as if universe dey repeat am for my ear.

She dey shout anyhow say she wan go concert.

This time, I no let her wahala vex me. I just dey look am, my mind dey plan like old tortoise. For my heart, I dey beg God: Baba, no let this pikin use me finish. Give me patience wey pass Job own.

I just smile: "Go na, how WAEC go better pass your person?"

I smile reach ear, like say dem serve me hot bread and akara from heaven. For my mind, I dey reason how I go handle this her madness differently.