Chapter 1: The Pikin Nobody Wants

My mama na that notorious side character wey everybody for this world no like.

For our street, her gist dey always fly up and down, like harmattan dust wey no get respect. Mama own wahala get branch—if you carry her matter go meeting, even elders go shake head. Children for our compound dey avoid her like government mosquito spray, and market women go hide their face when she waka pass. Even the malam wey dey sell suya for junction dey cross to the other side when he see her shadow. He go mutter small prayer under him breath, dey dodge like say na masquerade pass. Na so her reputation stubborn reach.

Just three months after she kpai, Mr. Folarin and Yemisi—the babe wey everybody dey hail as better wife—finally become couple.

The whole community begin dey make noise about their love story. Church group even sing one special song for them for Sunday service. People dey say na so God dey work wonders. Nobody send say my mama grave still fresh like new yam.

The way dem take dey praise the couple, e be like say na happy ending for film. Some aunties even dey plan wedding aso-ebi, dey look for how dem go take do makeup on the day. The talk for street na, 'God punish witch, na so good wife enter house.'

As the villain hear the news, she just swallow more than half bottle of sleeping pills, use blade cut her wrist, then go lie down for bathtub quietly.

Dem say as she dey go, her spirit no even shake body, like say she dey wait for cool breeze to carry her away. She no shout, no cry. Na only silence full the house, like the kin hush wey dey before rain go fall. That her final act, e pass film—na true Nigerian woman way, to suffer quietly, no let neighbors hear your pain.

As her body dey turn cold,

I carry my small backpack, knock for her door, come ask with my pikin voice, “Hello, uncle, you be my papa?”

Na so I gather all the boldness wey small pikin fit get for this wicked world, my hand dey shake like fish for dry sun. My slippers na rubber one wey don chop corner, my uniform shirt dey dirty with dust. I dey wonder if na today my whole life go change.

For morning, na only Mama Iya from the next street come sweep the compound, mutter, "Wicked woman, make earth soft small for your body."