Chapter 7: My Name Finally Loud

That night, rain fall well.

Thunder rumbled, rain drumming hard on the zinc roof. The whole house seemed to mourn with me.

When I climb rooftop early the next morning, green plant soak, my small rabbit doll don soak water finish. Peg no fit hold am again.

The rooftop smelled like wet earth and old soap. My poor rabbit lay in the mud, ears drooping, stuffing showing through a rip.

Now, e just dey ground, full of mud, dirty.

Its white fur stained brown, a forgotten casualty of last night's storm.

I carry the rabbit go wash for almost one hour before e clean.

I scrubbed it carefully, trying to wash away not just the mud but the sadness of the night before.

Around nine, after I tidy everywhere, I wan go out when I see Ifeoma for pleated skirt, dey smile as she come out her room.

She floated down the hallway, humming a tune. Her mood had lifted with the rain.

As our eyes meet, she hide her smile. "Where you dey go?"

She asked as if she cared, but her eyes darted away, busy with other thoughts.

"Part-time job," I answer.

My voice was flat, but polite. I waited, but she didn't say more.

Ifeoma no talk again, just run go master bedroom. "Mummy, see my cloth! E fine?"

Her voice shot through the house, full of excitement.

"Anything my baby wear dey fine," Mummy answer from inside.

I heard laughter, the rustle of fabric, Mummy's voice soft with pride.

Ifeoma say, "Na Seyi give me this one."

Her words floated into the corridor, heavy as stone in my stomach.

I no hear the rest, I just waka go.

My feet found their own way out, my heart heavier than before.

After I help the twins with homework, I go wait for keke.

Their mother pressed two gala and a bottle of Fanta into my hand. "God bless you, Amaka," she said. Her kindness soothed me a little.

Na one o'clock, keke almost empty.

The road shimmered in the heat. I slid into the back, letting my thoughts drift with the movement.

I sit for back, get message from my class teacher.

Her words popped up, bright and encouraging.

She say I really be the state best arts scorer this year.

The message hit me like cold water. For a second, I didn't believe it—then a smile crept onto my face, slow and sure.

She happy, dey praise me well, say the last state best for our school na Seyi.

I read the message again, heart pounding. Seyi—even now, he was always a step ahead, always the benchmark.

As I see that name, my eyes just dey pepper me. I look window.

The sun glinted off passing cars. I let the world blur as I blinked away the sting.

Shade from mango tree, sun dey flash for my face.

The old mango tree at the estate gate swayed in the breeze, its shadow comforting.

After my breathing calm, I look my phone.

I pressed my hand to my chest, letting the news settle.

—The TV people wan interview you. Since you go come school collect your file next tomorrow, make we fix the interview that afternoon, okay?

I read it twice, stunned. TV—for me? I nodded, though nobody could see me.

I reply, "Okay."

My fingers trembled as I typed, excitement mixing with fear.

When I reach house, Ifeoma wear pink pleated skirt, dey sit for carpet, centre table full of application forms.

She sorted through them with fierce determination, her lips pursed in concentration.

Mummy sit beside her, see me, call me.

She waved me over, her face softening as I approached.

"Amaka, which course you wan choose?"

Her voice was patient, but her eyes held that same old worry.

I change slippers, drop bag, say, "Law."

The word felt bold in my mouth, a dream I had finally claimed.

Ifeoma hiss, "Amaka, talk true. Your score fit carry you go law?"

Her doubt hit me like slap, but I refused to back down.

Mummy say, "Amaka, your sister fit go local university for degree. The cutoff for primary education low. Why you no choose that? You fit teach English."

She listed the options, her voice practical, protective. I could see the love in her eyes, even as she doubted my ambition.

"No need." I no even reason am. "I don decide. I go read law, become lawyer."

I squared my shoulders, daring them to argue.

Mummy frown, small wahala for her face. "That course score high o, unless you choose second-tier school."

Her words were a warning, but I was ready.

"My score reach." I wan explain, but Ifeoma hold Mummy hand. "Abeg, Mummy, leave her. Help me choose course!"

She pulled Mummy back into her world, and just like that, the attention shifted.

Just like that, she carry Mummy attention again.

I faded into the background once more, used to the rhythm of our family.

E don always be like that since we small.

I wondered if it would ever change.

I never dey lively, and for twin, na that kind personality dey stand out.

But today, I let my ambition speak for me, even if nobody listened.

I no talk again, wash hand, go my room.

In my quiet, I found small peace.

The day we go school collect file, Mummy drive us.

The drive was long, filled with the smell of car freshener and the sound of gospel radio.

On the way, Ifeoma sit front dey gist with Mummy, I dey read my interview script.

I clutched my notepad, lips moving silently as I practised my answers.

"Mummy, our school science best this year only reach tenth for state, no reach last year. But arts get state best. E be like say school focus on arts this year. If I know, I for choose arts."

Her words were light, but I heard the regret hiding underneath.

Mummy surprise. "Really? No be science your school dey focus?"

She turned down the radio, curious.

Ifeoma just dey mumble, "Principal change this year. Teachers no too try. If I choose arts, I for go same school as Seyi."

Her voice trailed off, a sigh at the end. I could tell she still measured her steps by his shadow.

She look back at me. "Amaka, I really envy you. Na luck make you choose arts and pass cutoff."

Her words stung, but I just smiled. My journey was more than luck—it was late nights and silent tears.

I say, "Anyhow, na our own effort."

I met her gaze, my voice steady.

Ifeoma frown, turn face.

She brushed off my words, returning to her own thoughts.

As we come down, Mummy say, "Babies, call me when una finish. I dey go shop with Aunty Bisi."

She hugged us both, her bag slung over her arm, her perfume lingering after she left.

Me and my sister dey different department, so even our class dey separate.

The school halls buzzed with excitement, students running up and down, hugging, shouting.

Back to class, everybody dey talk. As I enter, everywhere quiet small.

Heads turned, whispers floating. I felt their eyes on me, hot and curious.

I shock, think say class teacher enter, I look back. Nobody dey door.

For a split second, I thought I was in trouble. My heart skipped.

Next thing, everybody clap.

Their hands thundered, their voices rising in cheers.

"Correct babe, best student, state best!"

"You too much!"

"Congrats!"

I just dey look, then smile.

Their praise washed over me, a sweet balm on old wounds.

I never too dey show for class, even as English rep, I no too get presence.

But today, they made me feel like I belonged.

But now, as everybody dey hail me, I just feel: na so youth be.

This moment, this joy, I wanted to keep forever.

You go just dey smile.

And for the first time, my smile reached my eyes.

After we collect file, everybody talk small then go.

There were hugs and photos, promises to stay in touch. The hallway echoed with laughter and hope.

Mummy call, "Amaka, you finish?"

Her voice was warm, checking up on me as always.

I dey follow class teacher go lecture hall for interview.

My feet felt light, nerves and excitement mixing.

"Never, I get something to do."

I texted back, voice firmer than before.

"I still dey shop. I go tell your sister make she find you, okay?"

I pictured her arms full of groceries, her face always busy with something.

I pause. "I dey lecture hall."

I sent the location, hoping she would find me quickly.

Interview last twenty minutes. As e finish, Ifeoma enter.

She came in with her usual energy, scanning the room.

She look around. "Amaka, wetin you dey do?"

Her voice bounced off the walls, curious.

Reporter dey pack up. As he see Ifeoma, him eyes light up. He ask me, "Na your friend be this?"

His smile was friendly, welcoming. I shook my head.

"No," I shake head. "Na my sister."

The word tasted sweet, even after all our quarrels.

Reporter really praise us, "You and your sister fine well."

I blushed, mumbling, "Thank you."

"Thank you," I answer.

Ifeoma come closer, see badge for reporter chest.

Her eyes widened, curiosity sparking.

"You be TV reporter?"

Reporter nod.

He showed her his press card, smiling.

Ifeoma look surprise.

She stepped back, glancing between us, a question in her eyes.

She come dey reason something. "Why you dey here?"

Her voice grew small, the pieces coming together.

Another reporter dey pack camera.

Their presence made the whole event feel bigger than life.

Class teacher enter with three bottles of water.

She handed them out, beaming with pride.

I just look Ifeoma.

I wondered what she was thinking, her face unreadable.

Reporter say, "We dey interview state best for arts."

He gestured towards me, voice full of respect.

That time, Ifeoma face blank.

Her mouth open small, eyes dey shake, as if she just see ghost. For that moment, she no fit talk.

She freeze, her eyes empty.

Her lips parted, but no words came out.

She look me, then reporter.

I felt her confusion, her shock.

She ask low, "You talk wetin?"

Her voice trembled, barely a whisper.

Reporter look me, repeat, "We dey interview state best for arts."

He spoke slowly, as if explaining to a child.

Ifeoma look around, see na only me for hall, her face white. She bite lip, ask, "Where the best student?"

Her eyes darted everywhere, searching for another answer.

Reporter look confused.

He scratched his head, unsure.

He no fit understand why Ifeoma as my sister no know.

He glanced at me, then back at her, puzzled.

I stand up, calm, answer, "Na me."

I held her gaze, steady and proud, letting the truth settle between us.