At first I am only seeing the dark cloth, but as I shift the cloth and I look deep, deep inside of me, I bring myself out and put myself inside the classroom, then I am holding chalk and writing on the blackboard. Behind me, the childrens are wearing white and red uniforms, sitting on the bench and hearing me as I am teaching them all the things that Teacher was teaching me before I was leaving school.
I feel a rush of something free in that moment. Is so strong that I open my eyes quick. A laugh jump out of my mouth, shock me.
Kike give me another smile. “See? I tell you, Adunni, even if you marry my father and you think all your hope is finish, your mind is not finishing. Inside of your mind, you can be the teacher you want.” She stand to her feets. “You like to be reading books, so feed your mind with reading of any book you find, maybe in the dustbins of Idanra town or some cheap ones in the market. One day, maybe you become that teacher, maybe not. Tomorrow I go to meet my new husband’s family, but inside of my mind, I am Kike the tailor. Wish me well.”
When she leave me be, I close my eyes a moment, trying to become teacher in my mind, but the dark cloth is everywhere in my head, and the pepper in my hands is pinching my skin.
CHAPTER 13
Yesternight, Khadija ask me to follow her to midwife.
Her pregnants is nearing eight months. Since last week, she be walking as if there are two tires between her legs. She also keep moaning when she is in the kitchen, keeping her voice down, thinking nobody hear it. But I hear it, and when I ask if all is okay with her baby, she say yes. But yesternight, as she climb the mat and fold herself near me and I start to sing for the baby, she shake her head, say, “Stop, Adunni. No singing for today, please.” When I ask her why, because she didn’t ever, ever ask me to stop singing before, she say, “I am afraid, Adunni. I am afraid that maybe this baby is coming too early.”
“Why?” I ask when she talk about baby coming down. “Is something not correct with baby?”
“Yes,” she say.
“You think it or you know it?” I ask.
She sort of frown, big her eyes. “I know it. This is my number four pregnant, Adunni. I know when a baby wants to come out and when it want to stay up. This one wants to come out. It need another four or five weeks before it is a strong baby to come out. Not now. I must see midwife tomorrow morning. This baby is a boy-baby. It cannot die.”
“How you know it is a boy?” I ask. “Someone look inside your stomach, check it sure?”
“I know it,” she say. “When Morufu say he will not give my family food if this is not a boy-child, I do something to make it sure.” She low her head, like she is sad somehow. “What I do is a shame, but I didn’t have choice. I cannot born another girl-child, Adunni. You know it. What will my papa and mama eat if I born a girl-child? This one is a boy. It cannot die. Follow me tomorrow morning. First light.”
I didn’t sleep well after that. I keep thinking, what she do to make sure her baby is a boy? I keep my eyes open, thinking far deep inside the night, sometimes checking Khadija, checking her stomach, because I am fearing what if the baby just climb out and die? If I call Morufu, Labake will beat me stupid because tonight is her night to sleep with Morufu.
But thank God, the baby manage and keep hisself till this morning.
“Where is the midwife’s house?” I ask her after my morning baff. “Will you tell your husband that I am following you to midwife?” I am talking whisper to her, even though we are in her room, far from Morufu and Labake. I been his wife nearly three months now, but I cannot be bringing myself to call Morufu “our husband.” Is just something my mouth cannot never talk. When I try it last time, my tongue hook itself, so I keep it to calling him “your husband” when I am talking to Khadija. She understand it, I understand it.
She shake her head. “I tell him I am going to visit my mother,” she say. “That you are following me to help me carry my bag.”
“Why didn’t you tell him we are going to midwife?” I ask, confuse. “Anything bad in that?”
“You cannot understand,” she say as she rub her stomach and twist her face as if it is still paining her. “Are you ready for us to be going?”
I wear my black sandal-shoe, tight my dress-belt behind my back, and follow Khadija.
Morufu and Labake are inside the compound, standing in front of the taxi-car. Today is Kike’s wedding, so I know they are making preparations to carry her to her husband’s house.
Morufu is wearing the same agbada he was wearing for our wedding, and Labake is wearing something like a brown sack. She hiss, turn her back on me. I hiss too, loud for only my ears to hear.
“Where are you going this early morning?” Morufu ask, hooking his agbada sleeve on his shoulder. “You are not following us to Kike’s wedding.”
“God forbid,” Labake say. “They cannot follow us. Today is my day to shine. No witch can spoil it for me.”
“We are not following you,” Khadija say. She look as if her spirit is climbing out from her body as she wipe her front head, which is full of sweat. “I am going to my mother’s house. She so sick. I must take Adunni with me. My bag is heavy to carry.”
Why is Morufu blinding to what Khadija is feeling?
I bend my knee, greet him. “Good morning, sah.”
“Adunni, my young wife,” he say. “Do you want to follow Khadija to go and greet her mother?”
I look Khadija, she sway a little on her feets, nod her head. I nod my own too. “Yes, sah.”
“You must come back this night,” he say. “Because, tonight, I want to spend one special time with my Adunni.”
“By God’s grace,” Khadija say, “we will come back before sunset.”
“Till then,” Morufu say. He enter the car, on the engine.
We watch as Kike come out from the house. She is wearing a new iro and buba, there is a flower on the neck area of the buba. It is nice-looking, maybe she style it herself? There is a lace cloth on her head, on her gele, and it hang over her face, a curtain. She peep from under the cloth, her eyes filling with hope under the black khajal around the eyeslids.
“Go well,” I say to her when she reach my front. “Go well, my tailor.”
Me and Khadija get to walking the two miles to the bus garage.
* * *
The bus garage is not a far distant, but Khadija be walking ever so slow, moaning and groaning, rubbing her tummy as if she about to born that baby right there on the road to the garage.
She keep saying she want to shit, she want to piss, she want to sleep.