Chapter 6: Family Ties

Im phone for table just light up. I look, see one picture, shout: "Ah, you get Mama old photo."

Mama young for the picture, like say she wear school uniform. Her face round, smile full, eyes dey shine like new coin.

Before Papa talk, I show am the wallpaper for my children watch: "See, I get photo with Mama too."

For that small wallpaper, Mama dey carry me when I be two, dey smile for camera. I dey wear pink dress, my cheeks fat like bun.

Papa look the picture long, then ask: "Why you think say I be your papa, no be another person?"

"Mama dey look your photo dey cry." I tell am.

No be barrage talk am, na me see am.

Mama heart get person wey dey make her sad. When I small, she go dey look picture for phone, dey cry for night. Sometimes, I go wake up, hear her sniffle, but I go pretend say I dey sleep.

"Oga Okoli," the uncle talk, "meeting go soon start."

Im stand, look me, then tell am: "Make Secretary Zainab come watch her. Till I finish, nobody go carry her."

So na only me and one fine aunty remain for big office.

She bring plenty snack, dey smile: "Baby, you wan play with big aunty?"

"Okay!" I jump for sofa, make the chin chin almost scatter for tray.

Secretary Zainab tap my cheek, like say she like as e soft, tap am again. She gossip: "Baby, how you take relate with Oga Okoli?"

"Na my papa."

Her hand freeze, she hold my face, voice full of wahala: "Him? He fit get pikin wey fine like you?"

You go know say Sister Zainab dey suffer for her oga hand. Her eyes round like puff-puff, she bite lower lip, shake head.

She open drawer, bring out one yellow sweet: "Take, chop this sweet, na better one from Onitsha."

Mama work long pass as she talk. When I tire, I send her message with my watch, make she no worry. I type: 'Mama, I dey okay. Big aunty dey with me.'

After about one hour, Papa come back, face still hard. Im shirt no even get one wrinkle, but im eye dey like person wey dey swallow hot pepper.

As im enter, Sister Zainab stand: "Oga Okoli."

My mouth full of chin chin, I mumble: "Daddy."

Papa look Sister Zainab: "You fit go."

"Okay."

When door close, im come sit: "Your mama never call you? Maybe she no want you, na why she drop you with me?"

I put hand for waist, glare: "Okoli Chuka, no talk about my mama like that."

"No manners, you no just call me Daddy?" Im clean chin chin for my mouth. Im try act serious but I see smile dey hide for corner mouth.

"Mama like you, so you be my papa. If Mama like another person, that person fit be my papa too." I talk am.

"Mama pikin." Im hiss.

Mama pikin?

I keep hand for waist, nod: "Na true, I be Mama pikin."

"......"

As time reach for food, I touch belle, drag im sleeve: "Daddy, I dey hungry."

"You just chop plenty snack, hungry again?" Im poke my belle, like say im dey check if na true.

"Snack na snack, food na food." I talk. My voice stubborn, eyes wide, no be lie.

"See this small pikin wey sabi book pass age." Papa talk, then call person make dem bring food.

Na my first time chop with Papa. The rice dey sweet, the stew red, and the meat soft—like party jollof, but for office.

I no know why, im just dey look my face. At first, im wan feed me.

But I don big. Big pikin dey chop by herself. I hold my spoon tight, eat gently so im go see say I be better pikin.

After food, Mama never come. She must get wahala for work. Rain begin fall for outside, glass window dey mist, I dey watch as water dey rush for gutter below.

I begin sleep, no see Mama message, just doze for Papa body.

I no know how long, my watch ring. I dey half sleep, person answer, I hear Mama voice, but my eye heavy.

Person shake me: "Ijay, your mama dey come carry you."

I just cuddle: "Daddy, I dey sleep."

So the voice quiet. After that, e be like say dem carry me, big chest hold me. I feel the smell of papa perfume—fresh, strong, like man wey no dey use small soap.

When I wake, I hear people dey quarrel. I open eye for sofa, rub am, see Mama.

"Okoli Chuka, I talk am before, Ijeoma no be your pikin."

For the dull light, Mama look extra slim for where she stand for front of Papa. Her wrapper loose for waist, her hands dey tremble small, but her voice steady.

"If she no be my pikin, why she run come call me Daddy?" I hear Papa hiss, "She say she be four. If she no be my pikin, then you cheat for that time. Anulika, talk true, who be the man?"

"Wetin you wan talk am for?" Mama voice just tired. "All this don pass, Okoli Chuka. She no be your pikin. I dey carry my pikin go house."

"You talk say she no be, so she no be? I don carry her do DNA test today. When result come out, we go know who dey lie."

Mama just shake. Her mouth move, but she no talk.

"Mama." I call her. My voice low, like rain for night, but I see say her eyes dey water.

"Ijay," Mama finally look me. She come hug me, her eye red, "You make Mama fear die."

I press my face to her own, whisper: "Mama, sorry."

Mama kiss my face too: "Sorry, na my work wahala, I no watch you well."

Papa voice just spoil everything: "Wetin, na only you and your pikin get love? Me nko, I be villain?"

I look. Papa fine face don dark. Even the small dimple for im cheek hide. Rain still dey beat window, thunder dey grumble like old generator.

I ask Mama: "Mama, how you take like person wey dey fierce like this?"

"......"

Both of them just quiet. I look dem.

"Ijay, make we go house." Mama no talk again, she carry me, wan go.

Papa reach hand, still dey cold.

"Make I carry you. I no know how you dey live all these years. Pikin dey strong like yam, you dey thin like broom. You no dey fear say your back go break?"

"Papa, I no fat." I tell am. My mouth push out, I cross arm, stubborn.

Im weigh me, hiss: "Na you dey chop all the food for house, abi?"

I just decide say I no go answer am again. My face squeeze like person wey swallow unripe mango.

Mama just dey look me and Papa, her face get plenty meaning.

For stairs, Papa finally ask: "Anulika, that year you just break up and disappear. Why?"

Mama just bend head, no talk.

"If you really no send me, why you born my pikin?"

For that corridor, time just freeze. Rain dey drop for zinc, and I just dey wait, small heart beating like bata drum. For my mind, I pray: make Mama answer, make wahala end, make all of us sit down chop rice as one family—like Sunday for village house. But Mama just hold her breath, and the only answer na the thunder wey shake the whole building. My chest dey tight—this story never finish.