Chapter 4: Letting Go

Tunde wan marry Zainab?

My heart stop for one second, shock and relief join together. For my mind, I dey calculate: na so life go be, him and Zainab for house, me for another. Maybe e even better like that, make peace reign. I rub my palm for wrapper, waiting for Tunde next word.

I pause, surprise, but relief join am. I suppose don see am since—wetin better than marry am and keep her for house?

I look Tunde, the old pain now dey turn to tired laughter. My cousin dey watch, mouth open. I feel like person wey finally drop heavy load from head.

I give small bitter smile, look Tunde. Him face no change, voice just dry.

The bitter smile touch only my lips. Tunde own face be like person wey chew bitter leaf. The room hot, but I feel cold for inside. I look around, see women for market dey hustle, life dey move on.

“Morayo, Zainab go just be second wife. Her family no get name, she no fit find good husband for city. You know, Mentor treat me well—I no fit disappoint am. I don tell my mama, once Zainab enter my house, I go propose to your family.”

He talk am like say na small favour. Like say my own life dey on hold till he ready. The old pride still dey for his eyes. "Morayo, I go do the right thing," he add, as if e dey recite proverb.

Mr. Musa no just teach Tunde, he even block arrow for am during hunting festival. To say the kindness deep reach mountain, no be lie.

Everybody for Garba dey remember that hunting day—how Mr. Musa save Tunde from wild animal. They say na that day bond grow. The elders talk am for meeting, say loyalty pass gold. But loyalty no dey buy happiness, I tell myself.

Tunde wan talk more, but I just tire. How I take let myself reach this point, for Tunde to dey talk to me like say I no matter?

His mouth dey open, but I raise hand, stop am. My spirit weak, tears threaten, but I hold dem back. The shop noise fade, na only my heartbeat I dey hear.

Ifunanya, my cousin, vex, shout, “You dey craze? Our Morayo don already get engagement with Okoli family…”

Ifunanya voice loud, scatter market peace. She stand between me and Tunde, face red, eyes fierce. Other women dey whisper, "Na true! How dem go treat Morayo like this?" My cousin fit fight for me anywhere, anytime.

I stop her, give Tunde distant smile, talk slow, “Since the kindness reach like that, Oga suppose marry Madam Zainab as main wife. One man, one woman—na so e suppose be.”

I touch Ifunanya arm, calm her. My voice cool, but my words sharp like razor. "Tunde, abeg do the right thing, marry am proper. One man, one wife—na so tradition talk am." The shock for his face sweet me small. I gather my cloth, ready to waka out.

I waka comot, no look back. Na only Tunde stand there, face dark, nothing to show.

I hear his heavy breathing as I leave. Even the wind for market slow, as if dey respect my pain. For the first time, I feel truly free—no more waiting, no more hoping. As I waka comot, the sun slap my face—remind me say I fit still shine, even if e pain.