waxing lyrical. It feels like I’m in another dream.
“I’m afraid,” I say in the barest of whispers.
“Of what?”
“The guy she is with now…she might…”
“So, save him.”
FATHER
The day before the day it all ended was a Sunday. The sun was merciless.
All the air conditioners in the house were on full blast, but I could still feel the warmth from outside. Sweat was beading on my forehead. I sat under one of the air conditioners in the upstairs sitting room with no intention of moving. That is, until Ayoola came scrambling up the stairs and found me.
“Dad has a guest!”
We leaned over the balcony to spy on the man. The agbádá he wore kept slipping down his arms, so he was constantly pushing it back up again. It was a rich blue and so large that it was near impossible to tell if there was a slim man or a fat man within the yards of fabric. Ayoola pantomimed pushing her own sleeves back up and we sniggered. We were not afraid of our father when he had guests—he was always on his best behavior. We could laugh and play with little fear of retribution. The guest looked up at us and smiled. His face is forever etched in my mind—it was a square, black, much blacker than I am, with teeth so white he had to have kept his dentist on speed dial. I imagined him getting ṣàkì stuck between his back molars and then immediately demanding to be wheeled in for orthodontic surgery. The thought tickled me and I shared it with Ayoola, who laughed out loud. It caught my father’s attention.
“Korede, Ayoola, come and greet my guest.”
We trooped down obediently. The guest was already seated, and my mother was offering him delicacy after delicacy. He was important. We knelt down, as was customary, but he waved us back to our feet.
“I am not that old o!” he cried. He and Father laughed even though we could not see what was funny. My feet were hot and itching, and I wanted to go back to the cool of the air conditioner. I switched from foot to foot, hoping my father would dismiss us so that the men could talk business, but Ayoola was transfixed by the visitor’s cane. It was studded from top to bottom with different colored beads. Its brightness drew her eye and she went closer to examine it.
The man paused and watched my sister over the rim of his teacup. Seeing her up close, he smiled—but it was not the same smile he had lavished on us earlier.
“Your daughter is very beautiful.”
“Really,” my father replied, cocking his head.
“Very, very lovely.” He moistened his lips. I grabbed Ayoola’s hand and pulled her a couple of steps backward. The man looked like a chief, and when we went to the village for Christmas our maternal grandparents always kept us away from chiefs. Apparently, if a chief saw a girl he liked, he would reach out and touch her with his bejeweled cane and she would become his bride, no matter how many wives the man already had; no matter if the girl in question wanted to be his wife or not.
“Hey! What you doing?” Ayoola whined. I hushed her. My father shot me a dark look but said nothing. The way the visitor was eyeing her triggered an instinctive fear inside of me. The visitor’s face was moistening with sweat, but even as he wiped his brow with his handkerchief, his eyes did not leave Ayoola’s. I waited for Father to put the man in his place. Instead, Father leaned back and stroked the beard that he took great pains to maintain. He looked at Ayoola, as though seeing her for the first time. He was the one man who never referred to Ayoola’s stunning features. He treated us both exactly the same. I was never given the impression he was even aware of how gorgeous she was.
Ayoola shifted under his gaze. He rarely looked at us closely, and when he did, it never ended well. She stopped resisting my grip and allowed me to pull her to me. Father redirected his gaze to the chief man. His eyes twinkled.
“Girls, leave us.”
We didn’t need to be told twice. We ran out of the main living room and shut the door behind us. Ayoola started running up the stairs, but I pressed my ear against the door.
“What are you doing?” she hissed. “If he catches us—”
“Shhhh.” I caught words floating