Chapter 8: Territory and Outsider

Those days, Tunde get cold, I dey waka house-company to bring him herbal medicine.

I dey waka like nurse, carry flask and bag, dey look for solution. All company staff sabi me, some dey greet, some dey look with pity.

One day for company, small boy run hit me, make me stagger.

The boy sharp, his head knock my bag, my phone fall. He start dey cry. For a moment, I dey confused, dey look for how to calm am.

His head jam my bag chain, he start cry.

Tears dey flow, the noise loud. Everybody dey look our side.

Halima come, face strong, carry the boy.

She rush come, sweep the boy from ground. Her hand dey quick, her face stone.

"Aunty Morayo, wetin my nephew do you, you wan transfer anger to small pikin?"

Her voice sharp, but e still get sweetness for ear. I just stand, dey clean my bag.

I look the boy—he resemble Tunde well.

His nose, lips, even the gap for teeth. Na so resemblance strong. My heart twist.

"Your nephew?"

Halima just smile small, like say she dey mock me.

She adjust the boy’s collar, her finger long and painted, like person wey dey mark territory. Her mouth turn up, her eyes dey shine. E be like say she dey win secret battle.

"Yes, my nephew. E be poor pikin, Aunty Morayo, abeg no bully am."

She use 'poor pikin' shade me. I no talk, just dey pack my things.

I ask, "Why e poor?"

I try maintain face, voice low. I dey test her mind.

Halima sigh, "This pikin, for now, no fit recognize real papa and mama, no fit go house. No be pity be that?"

The words dey sting. For Naija, identity strong. I rub the boy head, dey pity am, dey pity myself.

I nod. "Na true, e pity."

The boy sniff, rub eye. I smile small, dey hope say one day e go get peace.

She look me, then smile.

Her smile sharp, but her eyes dey calculate. I hold my own ground.

"But him papa love am well. To protect am, he do DNA test early—so you fit say him papa dey thoughtful."

Her voice low, but the shade dey plenty. I smile, pretend say I no dey hear the real meaning.

I rub the boy head, smile:

I dey remember old Naija proverb: 'Pikin no know papa, but papa dey know pikin.' I whisper, 'God dey.'

"E get sense well."

I smile, use hand clean his tear. For inside me, my own tears dey flow, but I hold am.

I carry medicine go GM office, see my uncle family full there.

Dem dey crowd the office, their voice loud. I greet them, but dem no even answer well.

Unlike my father-in-law wey do business, my uncle family go another way. Husband, wife, two sons—all get work for government company.

Dem dey wear suit, carry briefcase, dey talk grammar. For dem, government work na pride.

Adegbite family dey help each other.

No be today. Any small connection, dem go slot family member. I dey envy sometimes, but I no talk.

Voices dey come out from inside.

Their talk dey loud, dem dey argue. I dey wait outside, dey hold medicine, dey hope say Tunde go let me in.

"Tunde, your uncle property dey your name. You no fit fail us."

Tunde dey sound tired. The pressure for this family no be beans.

"Uncle, make we clear—na una use my name because una dey fear wahala, no be me beg."

Tunde dey try explain, but I know say dem no go listen. For Naija, family wahala na forever.

Tunde voice dey hoarse.

He clear throat, sound like person wey no sleep.

The cold still dey worry am.

I hear am cough, I dey worry say his chest dey tight. Na why I dey always bring herbs.

I open door.

I carry the tray inside, dey greet. Everybody freeze, but no smile follow.

Tunde frown as he see me.

He dey vex, eye red. He no like make I enter office when family dey around.

"I tell you say no bring medicine. I get project, no get time for slow recovery. You buy the cefalexin?"

He ask, his voice sharp. I no talk, just open bag.

His voice sharp, he cough.

He cough, cover mouth. I dey try give am water, but e act like say I dey disturb.

I drop medicine and cefalexin for table. "Herbal medicine slow, but e no get side effect."

I try explain, but I know say e no go listen. Na so e dey every time.

Just then, his phone ring, he go window answer.

He shift curtain, dey talk low. I know say e dey run from wahala.

I greet uncle and aunt.

I dey smile, but dem no reply. My cousin dey form busy for laptop.

Dem just nod, no even look me.

But my two cousins throw mouth:

Dem dey form big boy, dey run mouth. For their mind, I be outsider.

"Sister-in-law, your brother never wake?"

The question sting me, but I just nod, dey smile. For Naija, if you get problem, na you alone waka come.

"Everyday dey spend money—na from Adegbite Group. E even make sense to dey support am?"

The words dey heavy, but I just dey act like say I no hear. I hold my ground, dey pretend say na joke.

"For that kind state, better make person die."

My heart cut, but my face no change. I dey remember Grandpapa words: 'Poverty no be curse, but bad mouth fit kill.'

I pour water, waka go give Tunde, hand am medicine.

He collect am, just swallow.

He no look my face. I dey hope say e go feel small pity, but nothing.

I give am water.

He drink.

The swallow loud for my ear. I dey watch him neck move.

I talk, "Tunde, after you take cefalexin, no drink alcohol tonight."

My voice low, but I dey try be caring wife.

He bone me, like say breeze just blow pass.

He turn, no answer, just dey press phone. I dey try remain patient.

I talk again, louder.

"Tunde, you just take medicine—remember tonight—"

His voice thunder. I freeze. Even my cousin stop laugh.

"Enough."

Tunde turn, vex. "You no see say I dey call? Comot!"

He talk am like command. I bow head, pick tray, waka out. The shame dey my body.

I shock, waka comot.

For corridor, my hand dey shake. I dey try hold back tears.

For door, I hear my aunt laugh.

Her laughter follow me, sharp like broken glass. I wipe eye, tell myself, 'You go survive.'

"She no sabi anything. Na why she dey tire person."

Their words follow me, but I no go let dem break me. For this family, only strong dey last.