Chapter 3: Small Wins, Big Shadows

As for my papa and mama, dem dey always claim say dem get sense, say dem no go ever like one pikin pass because of beauty.

Dem talk am for night, especially when dem think say I dey sleep. But na lie. Even cat for house dey know who get special plate.

But anytime we dey go market, my mama go always waka side by side with my sister.

Pepper sellers dey shout, sun dey burn, my own hand dey sweat as I try hold mama hand. Sometimes she go even tie Ifeoma wrapper, dey show her off to everybody wey greet am.

If I try hold her hand, she no go push me comot immediately, but after small time, she go use style remove my hand.

She go act like say she wan adjust bag or arrange basket, but before you know am, na my sister she dey hold again.

Even book self, na my brother and sister sabi pass.

Dem dey always collect prize for end of term. My own na attendance certificate—dem even spell my name wrong.

Timi and Ifeoma enter one correct federal university sharp sharp.

People for our street dey use their name dey ginger their own children. "Why you no fit be like Timi and Ifeoma?" I just dey hear am like background music.

Me, I no even fit enter advanced class for secondary school.

I try, but na regular class I land. Teachers dey manage me, dey beg me make I just dey attend tutorial.

For the party wey dem do when my brother and sister enter university, my papa drink and talk for front of everybody: “If to say na only Timi and Ifeoma we born, for better. Na this Amaka remain.”

Chai! E pain me that day, I no fit talk. Even the small puff-puff wey dey my plate, I no touch again. Some aunties even dey look me with pity eye. One aunty try distract me, dey offer me meatpie, dey crack joke, but e no work. All the relatives nod head like say dem dey do meeting.

Uncle Sunday, the chief nodder, dey in front, dey echo every sentence. My mind just dey fly go where I no know.

I just dey there like person wey dey sit for church bench when pastor dey call people wey thief offering.

You know that kind feeling when you dey for wrong party? Na so e be. I just dey shift for chair, dey pray make ground swallow me.

Till today, I no even remember how my 13-year-old self take survive that party.

I just dey count ceiling fan, dey squeeze my hand, dey wish say mosquito go bite me make I faint.

Later, my papa realise say him talk bad, come apologise.

Him voice low that night. You know as men dey behave when dem mess up but pride still dey hold their throat.

“Papa no talk am well. Amaka, abeg no put am for mind.”

He rub my back small. I hesitate, glance my mama, dey find backup, then force small smile: “No wahala, papa.”

“What I mean be say, final year no easy for pikin and for papa-mama. Timi and Ifeoma don enter university, but I never fit rest. I still need help you grow. Journey still far.”

E get as e be. The journey long, but nobody gree carry my load.