Chapter 5: The Lamb and the Lioness

People for grassland dey talk say, as long as you catch the ewe, the lamb no fit escape.

The elders dey say if mama dey captivity, pikin no fit free. Na story wey dem dey tell for firelight, but for me, na real life. I dey feel the truth for my bone; as long as she dey suffer, my own freedom no mean anything.

Na me be that lamb.

I look myself—small, weak, voice dey tremble. The world big, but my own part small like grain of millet. Yet, I dey stubborn. I dey think say maybe I fit change something, maybe I fit bring her peace.

I been wan just stay for the corner wait make mama turn back to her normal self before I go join her again.

Hope stubborn for my heart. Even as cold dey beat me, I dey plan say if I wait small, her real self go come back. We go laugh small, she go call me her pikin again.

But she no gree make I stay near the sheep pen.

Her senses sharp. Even as I crawl far, she dey point her face my way. If I cough, if my foot break one stick, she go know. She dey guard the space like lioness.

No matter where I hide, she go always locate me by sound, those blind eyes dey face my direction for her pale face.

E shock me how her blindness sharpen other sense. Her nostrils dey flare, ears dey twitch. I dey wonder whether na mother’s love or pain dey make her always know where I dey.

As long as I no commot, she go dey threaten say she go jam herself for stone block.

Na threat wey fit move mountain. My heart dey weak, I no fit risk am. Her pain dey swallow my own, like rain wey wash away sand castle.

At the end, I waka go.

I pick up courage, body dey heavy, and I move for the darkness. Each step dey drag my soul, as if rope dey tie me back. I dey look back, dey hope say she go call me, say make I come back. But silence na my only answer.