Chapter 3: Return to the Palace
My sister spend ten years dey fight for her position for Garba dynasty harem. When she finally become Consort Ifedolapo, she call me back to Kaduna sharp sharp, as soon as she get small power to shield me.
By then, I don become adult. I carry myself with pride, but the pain of exile still dey my body.
She use all her power, beg Musa Garba tire, just to get me position as concubine to Prince Sani, Musa Danladi. She give away her own jewels, her pride, her hope.
Musa Danladi na unwanted prince, dem send am Sani Town as soon as he grow. To be him concubine mean lifetime of quiet safety—exile in velvet, but exile all the same.
"Amara, all I want na for you to dey safe." Her voice dey shake, but her grip strong for my hands.
My sister force smile, lips barely cover the bitterness underneath.
I stare, lost. She don old pass her years. White hair dey show for her head. Powder no fit hide the tiredness for her eyes. Skin wey dey glow before now dey stretch, laughter lines now deep furrow.
Pain cut my chest, like knife wey sneak enter rib.
I remember how, not long ago, palace attendant with sharp voice come call her to serve Musa Garba. Him words be like slap.
"Consort Ifedolapo, prepare yourself. King dey wait."
Once he waka finish, my sister begin shake, knuckles white as she grab her wrapper. She dey look ground till servant go.
Again, memory of our country downfall come—her blood, my blood, my mama blood all join for her hand.
Looking at her, guilt and sadness drown me. I wish I fit carry her pain, but I be shadow for this palace—powerless.
Sister, the peace you fight for me no be wetin I want. I see cracks for your smile, pain behind your gentle words.
From the day I step Kaduna again, only one thing dey my heart:
I wan grab power, scatter Garba dynasty. I wan light fire wey no go quench.