AMID SECRETS - CHAPTER 43
*Maduka’s POV*
The day after Nwanyieze’s departure, the first meeting between my cousins and I after over twenty years happens to go with ease. The last time I had seen them, we were children who had played in the sand the day before the death of my family.
Onyebuchi and Onyekachi.
Our compound is full of people, and so for privacy, they come into my bungalow. I expect some form of hostility, but they are pleased to see me and we all embrace while they exclaim.
Onyebuchi, the older brother, is as tall as I am but with more bulk. A few grey strands are scattered all over his hair, although he is younger than I am. Onyekachi, who lives in America, is leaner and shorter than his brother. They retained some of their childhood features, especially the huge smiles.
“We are sorry for what our father did,” Onyebuchi says when we settle down on the overstuffed chairs. “Who would have known? What an abomination.”
“We are not mourning him, either. He who ki||s his brother should be wiped out from history,” adds Onyekachi.
“I am still sorry for his death,” I tell them in a sombre tone. “He was still your father. I thought you would be hostile towards me.”
“Maduka, you are our brother. Our father ki||ed your whole immediate family, contributed to your disappearance– his death can never be enough.” Onyebuchi places a hand on my shoulder.
“Please don’t blame our mother. She has always been a good woman. She told us to also beg you on her behalf.”
I give a small laugh. “Daa Ndidi is no trouble. The day I left, I heard her crying for me to come home.”
We spend a few hours making plans, agreeing that the lands that rightfully belonged to my father were now officially mine, and catching up on the last twenty years. A few kinsmen soon join us, and we share some palm wine and Schnapps.
My uncle is buried the next day in the forest, and we are instructed not to attend. A group of men, dressed in black, come into our compound to tell us that his corpse has been taken into the forest. Out of respect for his sons, his burial was postponed until their return. But where his corpse was kept, no one agreed to tell us. He no longer belonged to us, as we were told, and so we weren’t supposed to bother about him anymore.
Daa Ndidi does not come out for the whole day, ashamed and scared of being mocked. No form of persuasion from any of us convinces her. The following days pass in a blur, full of clan meetings and visits to relatives. I have been fully accepted, and I find this welcome soothing after twenty years of being away from my people.
At night, I lie awake in bed, thinking of Nwanyieze. I wonder what she is doing, I wonder if Saheed…
Don’t think about him.
But how can I not do that?
Saheed, who has no qualms about trying to take her away from me to the point of lying? Is she even safe from him in Lagos? And he knows her address.
Stop it, this isn’t the movies. Nwanyieze is a grown woman and can take care of herself. Nothing is happening.
But my hand reaches for my phone on the floor.
“Hello?” comes her voice.
It is past midnight and she sounds wide awake.
“I miss you.”
“I miss you too.”
“What is keeping you up this late?”
“I’m still relearning to sleep alone,” Nwanyieze replies with a small laugh.
“Me, too.”
“I wish you were here. Right now.”
“If only I could fly at night…”
“You’d look ridiculous on a broomstick.”
We both laugh, trying to imagine what she has just said.
“How is your day going? I know I asked you about your day a few hours ago.”
“Maduka, it’s the middle of the night. How’s it supposed to go?”
“Cool, hot, rainy, cold?”
She laughs again, and I imagine her shaking her head. “It’s cool right now. But we should never trust our weather, because the day will likely be very hot. By the way, congratulations on pulling this all together. I wanted to tell you earlier, but it skipped my mind.”
“What?”
“You’ve settled down, isn’t that great? Your cousins are chill with you.”
I chuckle. “It does feel good.”
“I’m proud of you.”
Warmth spreads all over my insides. “I didn’t just do it for me. I did it for you, too. And I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“As usual, this makes me feel warm and fuzzy on the inside.”
Ditto,I think. “Have I said that before?” I tease.
“You know you have.”
“But seriously. You’ve brought nothing but fortune since you came into my life, Nwanyieze. I don’t know how you do it.”
She giggles and in my mind’s eye, I see her covering her mouth with her free hand.
“I can’t wait to see you again.”
“You’ve said that about ten times, and I only left two days ago.”
“You have no idea, do you? I want to see you every day.”
She yawns, a sign of suddenly feeling sleepy. It is on the top of my tongue to ask her of Saheed, if he has contacted her yet. But it feels like a bad idea, like it will run our conversation. After all, I trust her and she promised to tell me if something happens.
“Get some sleep, baby girl.”
“You, too, Madi. I’ll be waiting for you.”
“I love you.”
I hear her breath hitch, and just as I’m about to tell her good night, to my surprise she whispers, “I love you” before clicking off. I choke on my own saliva for a few minutes, coughing with teary eyes and laughing at the same time.
For the next two hours, I lie in bed, staring into darkness and blinking in disbelief, my cardiac muscles struggling to function normally.
Work desperately calls and after another week, I leave my village for Lagos. Daa Ndidi is the one who cries at my departure, telling me that it reminds her of the past. I promise to visit as much as I can; after all, this is my home. My cousins are also preparing to leave, as they have lives to lead as well. The farewell is a bittersweet one, and we plan to return for the next major holiday.
“Bring back our wife for us oh,” Onyekachi jokes. They had heard about Nwanyieze, the dark skinned beauty I had initially come home with. Apparently, she is held in high regard already, as they heard from Daa Ndidi that she was the one who had encouraged me to come back home.
My bags are filled with gifts: corn cobs, avocados, coconuts, wraps of ugba, dried fish. I don’t have the heart to reject them, and so I pay for excess luggage at the airport. The lady attending to me laughs when I tell her about this.
“So generous, these village people,” she says with a huge smile. “But they don’t know how heavy these things can be if you’re travelling by air.”
When the plane lands in Lagos, the elderly woman beside me stands up and screams, “Praise the Lord!”
“Hallelujah!” I reply with a laugh. I’m in high spirits today.
“Pilot Jesus has landed the plane!”
What about the one here?I wonder, my smile still in place. But I know better than to ask her that.
Somto to picks me from the airport. She had been calling me everyday, demanding to know what I have been up to. The rest of my family had believed me when I said I was busy with work, but not Somto. And so I had directed her to pick me up at the airport so I could explain on the ride home.
“You look tired. And negodu the mosquito bites on your face!” She exclaims when I have loaded my luggage into the trunk of her Jeep. Somto, a small woman, prefers big cars. And fortunately, she can afford them.
“Somto, that is the least of my concerns.”
“Where did you go and what was so important that you had to keep it a secret?”
“I went back to my place, Somto.”
“You mean-”
“Yes. I always remembered where I come from.”
“Wait. Just wait. Let me get us to your place in one piece before you start this!” She exclaims.
Somto drives to Alausa like a madwoman. “Oga, move this kabu-kabu from the way!” She yells at an elderly man who had decided to stop and buy Gala on the highway. “If you’re not careful, you will have accident! Anuofia,” is screamed at a Danfo driver who overtook her wrongly.
When we arrive, it takes us a maximum of three minutes to get into my bungalow with my luggage. My sister settles on the couch, not bothering about the dust. That is Somto; when she is focused, nothing else matters.
“Talk.”
I tell her that I had always known where I had come from, but never told anyone.
“Why?”
“Because I thought I wasn’t wanted anymore. And I was right, my uncle did ki|| my family. I was supposed to have died, too, but I didn’t take the palm wine he poisoned.”
She gasps in shock. “Maduka, that’s terrible. I’m sorry.”
“That’s fine, Sisi.”
“You never told us this.”
“I thought you…you would send me back. I never even told the Sisters at the orphanage. They just assumed I was born and raised on the streets by beggars.”
Somto stands up and embraces me. “I can’t imagine what you went through. What happened when you went back? And why did you decide to go back, after all?”
“One small part of me always wanted to go back. Last year, I went back to the village but I wasn’t courageous enough to go into my compound. Then I met someone who convinced me to give it a shot.”
“This someone is a woman, right?”
I smile, confirming the answer to her question. “My uncle, he tried to poison me again. And Nwanyieze.”
“Blood of Jesus! You mean this?”
“My aunt- his wife- stopped him. She changed the wine and exposed him. He disappeared and hung himself before we could find him.”
Somto shudders. “I’m so sorry you had to go through this. You need a lot of rest, ok? This is a lot to process, how come you’re even still standing sef? I now understand why you were reluctant to tell any of us what you have been up to.”
“I’ll tell the others when I’m ready, Somto. Don’t say anything.”
“You have my word. And where is this your woman? She deserves a medal.”
I think of Nwanyieze, who had risked her life for my sake. My smile comes back. “She’s at her own place. I sent her back to Lagos immediately after the poison incidence.”
“That was a wise thing to do. Did this incident affect your relationship?”
I turn the question over in my mind for a few moments. Really, what went on in her mind after that? Was she keeping it together for my sake? Is she going to distance herself from me over time, and for good reason? I had never thought about this…
“She took it quite bravely. I’m hopeful this doesn’t terminate our relationship…”
Somto sighs. “This is too much. Go and sleep, Maduka. I will cook you a meal with wh@??ver I can find in your kitchen. You need to rest.”
I appreciate my sister with a kiss on her cheek. “I can’t say no to that. I am exhausted. And grateful to you.”
The moment my head touches the pillow, I fall into a deep, dreamless sleep. I wake up in the evening to find a note on my dining table:
I cooked some plantain porridge with the ugu from your garden. I also cleaned your sitting room. Rest well and remember I’m always there if you want to talk. Love, Somto. P.S., I’m looking forward to seeing your woman.
After enjoying Somto’s delicious porridge, I decide to call Nwanyieze. She picks at the first ring.
“Somebody’s excited about hearing from me,” I tease.
“I just happened to be playing Candy Crush when you called.”
“Admit it, you can’t stop thinking about me.”
“Don’t fool yourself,” she tells me with a small laugh.
“I’m coming over to see you.”
“I’ll wear something special.”
“Please don’t provoke Mama. She might start to think I’m corrupting you. By the way, do you want to go out tonight?”
“Yes, definitely! What do you have in mind?”
“You choose.”
“You choose.”
“How about Sailors Lounge? Their fish and chips taste really great.”
She is silent for a few moments before saying, “No, try something else.”
“You have until I get to yours to decide. And please bring some lip balm along, because you will be needing it.”
Nwanyieze giggles before clicking off.
We could go to the University of Suya, and reminisce on our first date, when I had managed to get pepper into my eye and made her hold her breath for almost a minute. I remember the curiousity I had felt, how I had bombarded her with questions, her defensiveness.That night, I had started to peel off her layers even without knowing it.
In the distance, a series of loud knocks sound at my gate while I am searching for my car keys, and I tell myself that it can’t be Nwanyieze, because the traffic won’t let her come over to surprise me so fast. It has taken me fourty-five minutes to clean my room, shower and dress up after our phone call.
And, she would never knock on my gate like that.
At the gate, I see no one. On the street, people are going about their businesses. A brown envelope on the ground catches my eyes. It has my name boldly written in black marker. Back in my sitting room, I examine it. No return address, just my name on it. The envelope is flat and light. Carefully, I tear the flap open and tip it over. Photographs spill out. There are about ten of them, obviously zoomed in and taken in a sequence. As I look at each of them, progressing to the final scene, my hands start to shake.
Nwanyieze, on the parking lot of Sailor’s Lounge with Saheed, walking away from him, then turning to argue with him, then hitting him, being held by the wrists, and finally, locked in his embrace in what seems like a passionate kiss.
I sigh heavily, wondering how I should process this. Finally, I switch off my phone and decide to go back to bed.
I am a fool,after all.