Chapter 3: Strange Exercises and Secret Hopes

Three more days waka pass.

Mosquitoes no let us sleep, but wild spirit papa no even notice. E just dey shine teeth, dey happy. Even small children for compound dey run come look as e dey do him strange display.

The wild spirit don chase all sickness comot from my papa body.

Village women dey point am out, dey talk: "E no dey limp again o! See Baba!"

He dey do strange exercise for compound, dey excited. E dey jump like frog, bend like broom wey soak for water. People gather, dey laugh, dey shake head.

“Turn your neck, shake your waist!”

He dey teach like primary school coach. Even old Mama Onome try am, almost fall.

“Sleep early, wake early—make we dey move!”

He shout so, even the cockerel for neighbour roof join chorus.

I frown, cover ear, dey watch am. I dey shame say na my papa dey make this kain scene. If my friends hear, dem go laugh tire.

All those moves na real yeye work. I just dey wonder if na so spirits dey behave for their world—just dey do anyhow.

But… I still dey practice am secretly for night.

Sometimes I go stand for back of hut, dey try small small. I fit feel my bone dey loosen up.

Wild spirit power na wah—maybe this exercise fit work wonders.

True true, after five or six days, the chest wahala and dizziness wey dey worry me don reduce. I no dey tire again when I waka fast.

I begin get small strength, even my voice dey sound strong again.

But wild spirit no sabi stay one place. E dey jump from one compound to another. Sometimes e go disappear for whole afternoon, come back with strange story.

As he fit run and jump, he go waka about anytime.

Neighbours don tire for am. Some dey lock door when e pass, some dey greet am with fear.

But today, he rush come back…

Dey mutter, dey vex:

“Chai, everywhere for road na wahala, na dirt full ground. These slippers no get use.”

E wipe leg for door post like chief wey return from long journey.

He enter, see as I dey cook, open pot.

Him face wrinkle like dry okra. “Bitterleaf soup again? I go soon turn green for all this soup.”

He sigh like market woman wey dey price yam wey pass her money.

I look him face think: [Which green? Na yellow you dey, abeg.]

For my mind, I dey remember papa skin be like ripe mango. Even if e eat ten pot of ugu, na yellow e go remain.