Chapter 9: Small Victories, Big Losses

As I push the half-close door, Chika dey curl for wool rug, dey color.

Crayon don draw three bent shadow for paper.

The picture rough, but I dey see effort. The sun for window dey shine for him hair. He look peaceful, for the first time in days. My heart dey melt small.

I kneel for front am, my voice dey shake. “Na our Chika be this?”

He no talk, but him eyes dey meet my own for small second. The hope wey I dey find dey flicker, but I no sure if e go last.

Him eyelash flutter, he nod small.

He point the tall person for left. “Da...d.”

Then slow slow go the person wey wear gown for right.

He whisper, “Mo...m.”

The sound soft, but clear. I dey shake as I hear am. Na so tears just rush my eye.

Tears full my eyes.

I stretch hand, dey shake, wan touch him head. “You try well well.”

My voice soft, I dey proud. For that moment, hope light for my chest, small like candle wey breeze fit off. I wan hug am, show am say I dey happy for him small win.

“No.”

He just hug him head, move back.

Crayon scatter for corner. “Hair... dey pain.”

He dey rub him hair, eye tight. My hand dey for air, the sun dey hot my skin. I fit feel the gap between us, wide like Benue river.

My hand just dey for air, sun dey burn am.

As I reach for sensory brush, na so red comment scatter everywhere:

*[Chika dey call the main woman.]*

*[The supporting character dey deceive herself, abi?]*

The comments sharp, dem dey choke me. For that moment, I dey wonder if all my effort dey waste.

The brush fall for ground.

So na only me dey think nonsense all this while.

The brush roll go under table. I just dey look, no strength to pick am. I dey ask myself, wetin remain for me?

That moment, Sade sweet voice enter my ear.

“Chika, you miss Mama?”

Her voice ring, soft like song. E dey make Chika face light up.

As her yellow skirt cross the door, Chika eyes bend, he smile. “Mama.”

He run go hug her leg. Sade kneel down, rub him back. The connection clear, e dey pain me, but I no fit talk.

I waka back, jam the new photo frame for wall.

For the photo, Sade hand for Chika neck, Ifeoma hand dey both their shoulder.

My nail dey cut my palm, blood and flesh dey mix, but I no fit hold the bitter taste for my mouth.

The pain sharp, blood dey drip for my palm. I dey bite lip, dey try hold cry. My chest dey heavy.

As I run comot, Sade laugh dey ring for back.

I collapse for my room carpet, dey bite my cry into my palm wound.

The floor cold, my mouth dey full with the salt of my tears and blood. I dey beg God make tomorrow better, but I no sure if I fit survive am.