Chapter 7: A New Zainab Emerges

The next morning, my aunty and I were eating breakfast when someone from Tunde’s side came to report.

They said the young master was sick and couldn’t come to greet madam, asking for her forgiveness.

Tunde, always the gentleman, never missed the proper greetings. Even though he wasn’t close to my aunty, his stepmother, he always followed etiquette.

My aunty dropped her spoon and asked, worried:

"How did he suddenly fall sick? Has the doctor seen him?"

The servant, Musa, glanced at me.

I ignored him and kept drinking my old goat pepper soup.

The aroma curled into my nose, but my appetite was thin. I stirred the bowl, pretending not to notice Musa’s side glance.

Musa answered respectfully:

He said last night, the young master drank some palm wine at the party, missed his step, and fell into the well.

The early harmattan water was freezing. No matter how strong you are, you can’t handle that kind of shock. He had a high fever when he got back last night, and it still hasn’t gone down.

My aunty was so worried, she stood up immediately to go and see Tunde.

She was already at the door when Musa suddenly asked:

"Is the young lady not going to see the young master with us?"

My aunty turned to look at me.

"Yes, Zainab, you always follow your cousin everywhere. Why not go today?"

I put down my spoon.

"I won’t go. Aunty, please help me greet cousin."

Then I added seriously:

"Before, I was young and foolish. From now on, I won’t bother cousin again."

The quiet fell heavy. My aunty’s eyes searched my face, seeing the change but not understanding it yet.

Tunde was sick for a long time, and I never went to see him, not even once.

I even dismissed the teachers who used to teach me bata drum and ayo.

In my last life, I broke myself down, ground myself to dust, and remade myself into the person Tunde liked.

He liked the bata drum.

So I forced myself to practice, just hoping he’d look at me once.

He liked ayo.

So I found a master, studied ayo books, just to spend more time with him.

But Tunde never knew.

The truth is, I didn’t like the bata drum, or ayo, at all.

This time, I want to be the real Zainab.

I want to dance when I feel like it, wear what I please, eat pepper soup without waiting for approval. I want to belong to myself.