by Maya Rossi
I picked up the card. And stopped at the sight of my face staring back at me. I had no idea where and when the picture was taken. But it was me. The camera captured the right side. Without the scar.
“What--” Then I saw the groom. Pa Nonso.
“No.”
“Madam Gold already called your parents. They should be here within the week.” Madam caressed my scar with a forefinger. I froze. Over and over, she traced the tissue. “You remember when you got this? Remember your promise?”
“I will serve you, do whatever you ask,” I mumbled.
“Nothing has changed.” She held out her hand. “Come.”
I would forever curse my naivety. I followed her up the stairs. At the top, she stopped. “Don’t fight it. Steve already told me you never fight. And I saw the pictures.”
“What pictures?” My stomach rolled with dread.
“You and Steve.”
I wanted to vomit. When did Oga become Steve?”
“Don’t fight him. Tochukwu, not you will suffer if he has any complaints.”
She headed towards Oga’s room. I pirouetted in confusion. “Ma?”
“Come.”
I followed as I had done faithfully for almost twelve years. She knocked on the door, and Oga opened.
“Remember your brother,” she said.
For the first time in my life, I felt betrayed. She knew about Oga’s antics even before she traveled. She knew everything. Now she was threatening me. With my brother.
I knew what would happen if I failed. A harsh Madam. An accusation of theft. Or nothing at all.
I entered the room, and Oga closed the door.
That evening I sat on my bed, a painful wound between my legs. Some maids began servicing their Oga from childhood. It wasn’t anything new. So why did I feel so empty?
I stared at the card. A wedding invitation to my own wedding.
A rat screeched, pushing through my door. I had a stick I used to block the small gap between the door and the floor. I must have forgotten8 to put it in. My gaze flitted about the room. Why did I bother the poor rats? What did I have to protect?
I went back to staring at the invitation.
Then I heard the sound again. With a sigh, I grabbed the stick and went to the door. Someone knocked.
My heart stopped beating.
“Ada, Ada? Open up. Fuck, you sleep too much.”
Joy. I rushed to get the door open. “What are you doing here?”
“Riggy asked for you.”
I was already shaking my head. “I can’t, uh, without Mary, it’s somehow?”
“Somehow? That’s the word you learned from that village school?” Joy smirked.
It was true I missed Mary, but I also didn’t want the girls finding out about tonight. I remembered Riggy’s flat stare from that ill-fated engagement party. “How’s she?”
“Just there,” Joy said with a shrug.
Just there. How apt.
“She asked for you,” Joy snapped.
I recognized the signs of her getting worked up. “Let me get my slippers.”
Joy refused to say what Riggy wanted. Half way to the Babalola mansion, I gave up and stopped pestering her for answers. The last thing I expected was a party.
There were drinks and snacks and music. Very low music, like the brush of light feathers across the skin. There, but barely. “Just the three of us?”
“Yes,” Riggy smiled and gave me a glass of Fanta, “we need it.”
There was something off about her, not that I could put a finger on it. Joy clasped my shoulder.
She pressed close, her lips brushing my cheek, spreading alcoholic fumes. “The only thing worse than an abusive Madam is a kind one who breaks bad, have you watched that series? Of course, you haven’t. It’s like a sheep in lion’s clothing.”
“How much have you drunk?”
“Enough. But I’m fine.”
Joy could hold her liquor really well. She staggered towards the makeshift bar set up right in the living room.
“Why didn’t you set up in your room, Riggy? This is too risky.”
Riggy held my gaze, solemn and profound. “We thought you wouldn’t make it, not after that.”
I swallowed, toed a discarded bottle. “Yeah, well. I survived.”
Riggy inclined her head. “Here’s to you.”
I grimaced. “I can’t stay long. Today was--”
“What did she do?” Joy asked, weaving her body to the beat.
“Starved--”
“How long?” Joy snapped.
I scratched my neck. “Got me out today.”
“Fuck.”
“You’re alive,” Riggy threw back her drink, “isn’t that all that matters? Every other thing doesn’t matter. Isn’t it?”
“Yes,” I agreed. “But I can’t stay long.”
“Is that all?” Riggy prodded. “You did the unthinkable, and she deprived you of food and patted your back?” She threw an arm around Joy’s shoulders. “That woman’s a gem, an angel.”
I stayed for thirty minutes. Joy sprawled out on an expensive-looking sofa, drunk. Riggy wasn’t much better, but she saw me to the door. At the living room entrance, I studied the mess.
“When are they returning?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Riggy staggered into my arms.
“I can come really early, clean up and rush back.”
“Nonsense. You have to be really careful now. Who knows how Madam Gold will play this?”
“Are you sure you’re drunk? I haven’t had a drop and I haven’t given a thought to that woman.”
She touched my cheek, eyes soft. “You’ve always been too…”
“Too what?”
“Loyal. Optimistic. Faithful. Take your pick.”
“Is that a bad thing?” I asked.
She kissed me. Deeply. On the lips. “I’m scared you still have to ask that question.”
I stepped outside. The sky was bright, like it was daytime. It reminded me of Ipaja and lying on the mat with Merrick. Just watching the stars. Where was he? Was he even alive?
I got inside without incident. With everything I thought I would have difficulty sleeping. I slept like a baby. No dreams, no fears, no worries. Just straight to sleep. The last time I slept like this was with Merrick.
I stretched. Mid yawn, I held the pose and sniffed the air. Was that smoke? I looked at the window and saw a black cloud. At first, I thought I must have woken too early. Then I heard the shouts, the splatter of feet.
I stumbled out of bed.
Outside the smoke was so dense, I had trouble breathing. Down the street I stopped. The fire raged, whistling and cackling. A beam cracked and the Babalola house collapsed on itself.
Nobody went for help because there was no point. The fire was too thick, too angry to be put out. They let it burn itself out.
“You’ve always been too…”
The look in her eyes, soft, resigned? Riggy, what have you done?
Twenty-four hours later, the fire department confirmed my suspicions. Murder suicide. Riggy burned the Babalolas and their house with them inside.
“Fucking Riggy, that’s what I call leaving in a blaze of glory.”
Joy.
I whirled. I grabbed her hand and pushed through the crowd. At a discrete distance, I turned on her. “You knew, did you do it together?”
She raised both hands in surrender. “I’m not taking credit for someone’s hard work--”
“Did you know?”
Joy smiled, sweet and lovely. I fell back. Her hair was askew. Her shirt button missing a spot. She looked haggard, exhausted. “Are you alright?”
Her smile widened. “I thought you wanted to know if Riggy confided in me?”
“She had Ngozi, Ayo, and the husband tied up in their bedroom. Thought you might want to see, after everything they did to you, but I warned her against it.” She drew in a breath. “I was right, wasn’t I?”
Joy caught my s
houlder and pressed a quick kiss to my mouth.
Like Riggy.
“She doesn’t deserve you.” She walked away.
As the distance between us increased, my pulse raced. Before she’d disappear into the crowd, I called. “Joy?”
She turned. A strand of her hair had slipped from her wig, her feet was dusty and she never looked more beautiful.
I blew her a kiss.
She returned it and disappeared.
Chapter twenty-three
Two weeks. It felt like an eternity. Two weeks ago, Riggy died. I didn’t mourn. Maybe that makes me a bad person. But I had that same resignation I saw in Riggy’s eyes. My life was out of my control now.
Joy had disappeared with most Mr Matthew’s money. The police had come by the house twice to ask questions. It helped that I honestly knew nothing.
“Your two friends, one a mass murderer, the other a thief. What does that make you?”
I was so used to hearing such comments from Madam that it no longer bothered me. She took the house and shop keys from me, changed the locks and installed cameras in every room, including mine.
How ironic I would suffer more for Joy and Riggy’s misdeeds. How fitting.
Madam and Oga hired two soldiers and some security guards to patrol the house. I saw the world through their eyes. From their snickers and winks, I knew the gossip about Riggy, Joy, Mary and me was rife.
No shop. No street walk. They watched me twenty-four/seven. Why did she think I would try to leave? I couldn’t, not with To at Madam Gold’s.
Blessing took the pot of soup off my hands. She was the only bright spot in my life, my only source of updates about Merrick.
“No chance he’ll be released from jail soon?”
“No,” Blessing lowered her voice to a harsh whisper, “don’t forget you shouldn’t know that.”
I banged pots and slammed cupboards angrily. “Did you not tell him of my situation? He should sell one of his lands, bribe them and get me out of here.”
She scoffed. “As if it’s that easy. And you’re forgetting your brother.”
I stared out the kitchen window at the soldiers manning the gate. “I have no choice.”
“Are you sure about this? It’s not something you can come back from.”
“I’m sure.”
In the living room, my mother sat with Madam, talking and laughing. My crazy mother who seemed normal, who I hadn’t seen for years. Not since I left for Madam Gold at age six.
But she travelled down for my wedding, a daughter she didn’t remember.
“It will be super strange having you as a stepmother,” Blessing whispered.
“How much did Oga pay Pa Nonso to forfiet the marriage?” I asked.
“Why?” Blessing shot back. “Does it matter? You’ll be marrying my father.”
I waited until we had served the food and returned to the kitchen before I replied. I stared into her eyes. “You know I never wanted this.”
“Do I? Almost every maid sleeps with their Oga to have a better life. Maybe that’s what you did.”
It was a struggle to breathe evenly. “I thought you didn’t care.”
She bowed her head. “I thought I didn’t. When it was you and Merrick, it was… my brother was happy. I don’t know him well, he left for Aunty Gladys when I was a baby. But I listened to dad and his rant for a better son.” She brushed back tears. “He never loved us. He wanted a son and you’re going to give him one.”
I cocked my head to the side. “You know I won’t.”
“Do I?” She shot back.
I didn’t reply. I opened the top drawer and grabbed a serving spoon. “I spoke with my mother last night. A long conversation.”
“About this?” Blessing sounded sceptical. Her voice dropped. “She knows about the abortion?”
I thought it would be easy, taking a life. It wasn’t. My mind slipped to last night.
“He said if I gave him the land, he’ll leave that girl and we can be a family again.” Mom chewed on her fingers, barely unable to sit still as she waited for my reaction. She wanted my approval.
“Is this what you want?” I asked.
She nodded so fast, her hair bounced. She looked good. Not a trace of the madness that had plagued her for most of her life. But sometimes her eyes would get over bright, her words would run together and I would wonder.
“We can be a family again.”
“If she were alive, is this what Aunty Sheila would have wanted?”
She jumped from the bed, skidding forward so fast my heart leaped. I pressed my back to the wall, pulling my knees to my chest. I hated it. Hated that my first instinct was to protect it. I unfurled my legs.
“Your aunty--”
“You mean your sister, you mean my real mother. Don’t you?”
Mom flinched. “She’s dead. Nothing can bring her back. She had AIDS, Ada. She was a prostitute.”
I tipped my head back, a cool mask hiding my crushed interior. “Was she? You ran mad and Dad left. Do you even remember?”
She waved a hand. For a second, I thought the wrist would fall off, just slice away from her arm. I hated that too. She was so thin I feared for her when she took the stairs. I held my breath when she laughed too loud. Even when she ate. I didn’t want to care.
I hated that I did.
“Remember? It’s in the past. We’re fine now. You’ll have a good husband--”
“As a second wife--”
“To a rich man. Look at your room!”
Oh, I hated it too. It was Blessing’s old room. Madam moved Blessing to Merrick’s room then moved me here. As soon as Madam suspected I was pregnant, Oga was determined the mother of his child would have the very best in life. My old room by the gate no longer qualified.
Not for the mother of his child.
“Imagine! What if you give him a son? If that child growing in your womb is a son?”
“He will be abused, he’ll love and hate me.” I laughed. “Do you really think Madam is happy with this?”
“Who cares? She’s a first wife, her time has ended.”
I stared at her in disbelief. “Well, maybe you should apply the same principle to yourself. You’re a first wife. Dad remarried, your time has ended.”
She scratched her head, looking confused. “That’s in the past.”
“It’s not. I was six years old. Six years old, mom. I won’t forget. I can’t. I thought dad would take me for ice cream since I came first in class. I ran home for ice cream and met our things outside. I thought we were moving--”
“Stop.”
“No, you need to remember.”
“Stop it.”
“I thought we were moving to the new house, the same land you want to give to that piece of shit. I heard Grandma first. I tried to hug her, and she pushed me away. Then aunty Sheila was there. She was always there when I needed her, and I never thanked her. Not once.” I pulled in a deep breath. “I was surprised to see her because before I left for school you were going to the hospital.”
“Hospital?” She looked confused.
“You were studying medicine at the University, mom. You went to school in your old pants and bra. They said you were mad. Aunty Sheila said you’ll be fine. You just needed rest. But it continued. Father didn’t listen. He had had enough of the shame. Grandma said it was a curse. Then Favor came out from your room. She was already heavily pregnant.”
“No,” Mom slapped me hard. “That’s not true. Frank said Favor happened because he was lonely… later.”
This was me. This was I.J choosing her son over her safety. This was us.
“Mom?” I caught her hand, squeezing the delicate bones until she helped. “Don’t ever lay a hand on me again, I’ve had enough of that shit.”