Chapter 3: Chop and Thunder

Evening chop time reach. For Okafor house, evening food na big matter—rice, stew, small dodo, sometimes egusi and semo if person lucky. The aroma of egusi soup and fried plantain dey everywhere, but my appetite don lost.

As I enter dining room, my eldest brother, Chisom—wey rush come back—dey complain loud. His voice thunder, scatter the whole place. Chisom tall, skin shine, always get that Lagos confidence. Today, na vex dey his face.

"Mummy, Daddy, how una go give Ifunanya room to another person? Una know say she no fit sleep for another bed since she small. If una make her change, how she wan take sleep?"

As he finish, he turn, see me, come frown, look me like say I be wahala. Him frown deep, eye dey scan me like airport scanner. For him mind, I be stranger wey just land uninvited.

"You just come back, you don dey collect room. You sef, you no get shame."

Him words sting, but me I just dey look am. For this house, everybody get him own drama.

As their own son dey vex, Papa and Mama Okafor face come dark, eyes dey blame me—as if na me cause all the problem. Even Mama Okafor fit no chop well tonight, na so her face squeeze.

Only the slow Ebuka still dey explain, "Brother, na Ifunanya say she wan give the room herself." Ebuka voice small, but e try defend me. E be like say small sense dey enter am.

Chisom just shut up immediately. Mouth close, hand for table. Eye dey blink, like say e no fit believe wetin e hear.

Ifunanya rush hold his sleeve. "Brother, abeg no talk again. This room suppose be Sister Zikora own." Her voice shake, but she squeeze Chisom hand, her own way to beg peace.

But as she dey talk, face still show say e dey pain her. Tears gather for her eye, lips dey quiver. She dey try act strong but body dey betray am.

Chisom rub her hand to console, then give me cold eye. Him hand gentle for her, but him eye cold reach ice when e look my side. For am, na me be the wahala.

"Ifunanya wan give you the room because she get good mind, but you suppose reason am too. Ifunanya no dey used to another bed. After food, abeg shift go another room."

His voice no dey beg—na command. For Naija house, elder brother voice dey carry weight.

I no even send am, I just turn to Okafor parents. "And una nko? Una dey support am?" I raise brow, eye sharp. I dey wait make dem talk true for once.

Papa Okafor just press mouth, no talk. Finger tap table, eye dey look anywhere but my face. The silence heavy.

Mama Okafor hesitate. "Zikora, your brother talk true. Ifunanya really no dey used to another bed." Her voice crack, she dey try use soft plea. She wan make peace but no wan offend anybody.

"But me, I no wan move." I just pull chair, siddon. "And I no see how Chisom talk make sense."

I carry chair, sit for my own, arrange cutlery well. I no go beg for my right.

I bring out recorder from pocket, drop am for table, press play. The talk wey happen for afternoon—me dey choose room with the Okafor family—play loud for dining room.

Voice echo for table, everybody quiet. Even house help for kitchen pause, dey listen.