Scars (Romola 2)

20: Speaking of Home

The street bustled with activity even though the evening sky had dawned purple and grey hues. Men and women, in singles, pairs and groups, strolled past them on the street. A yellow bulb lit up the street from the front of the small electronic shop on the left while Afrobreat music, accompanying the evening wind that threatened to flip off Romola's skirt, blared from the bar.

Romola hurried through the crowds. Despite the government's multiple warning signals about COVID 19 and the rising number of infected persons, people still strolled down the street like it was a village square during festival seasons.

"Wait. You're walking fast." Lolade screamed.

Romola reduced her pace as they came to Suya man's grill. Beside him, a woman dipped a large metal frying spoon into a pot of spitting oil. Men and young children gathered around the woman's wooden table while a couple picked at a long strip of raised meat on the Suya man's grill.

"What would you like to eat?"

"Suya." Lolade began to walk towards the suya man's stall.

Romola held her sister's head and pointed towards the fry cook's direction. "From here."

"Oh." Lolade's tone fell.

"Come on. We can't spend all evening here."

"Won't Maami look for me?"

Romola shut her eyes. She had thought about this too. Would Lolade's disappearance make her mother worry? She had hoped either Sunbo and her mother would call.

Lolade had it harder than she had. At least, her mother always waited for her to return from hawking before going to bed.

She caressed her sister's suku. "I will talk to her."

"Please, don't tell her we threw the bread away."

Two children left the yam seller's stall and Romola pressed forward. "I won't."

"She will be angry but I want to stay with you." Lolade hugged her.

"Why?"

The girl buried her face in Romola's palms. "She told daddy that you called her. And he beat her."

Romola blinked. "He? You saw him?"

"Yes. He didn't know I was there. If he knew—"

"Ssh." Romola put her around Lolade's shoulder. "Let's buy our food first."

Romola exchanged money for a black nylon of yam, plantain and four pieces of Pomo. They turned back to head towards the house but Romola's steps were slower. Calculated. As though she feared returning to the house.

"When did this happen?"

"I can't remember, boya last week." Lolade reached for the nylon, trying to squeeze her fingers into the bag. "I wish we dinno throw the bread away. We can eat it with Akara."

"Why do you want to take the bag na?"

"I want to eat one. One small piece. Tiny kenkele."

Romola held the nylon bag higher, out of her sister's reach. "Don't you know that you shouldn't be eating on the road?"

"Me? I do it with Maami.. Aunty Romola please, don't let me go back."

"Is it because of daddy?"

Lolade nodded, then stopped, picking a stone off the floor. "They fight too much. One day he will kill her. "

"Don't talk like that." The fury of her outburst scared her. She took a deep breath and nudged her sister forward.. "He can't."

"He will." Lolade threw the stone towards the gutter.. "One day, he said it and he took that his stupid Matchete. It's only Mama Nelson that stopped him. And Maami vex too much. Any small thing she shouts at me. Even when daddy did it."

"But you didn't want to come with me this morning.'

"Because I was scared of Maami.. "Lolade looked around, her eyes straying towards a bar filled with the raucous laughter of drunk men. "But she doesn't know this place. They can't find me. Please, let me stay. I will wash the plates."

"I know you will but this place isn't safe. If my landlady sees you here she will throw me out and I will have nowhere to go."

Lolade rubbed her eyes while she fought a yawn. "Will you take me back?"

"I have to call Maami first."

Romola handed her sister the bag and Lolade wasted no time digging into it. She stopped her sister by the gate and hugged her, whispering. "You will be fine, Lolade."

They continued the rest of the walk in silence but Romola's mind was a triggered minefield.

Lolade's gaunt face and jagged joints had scared her at the bus stop but it was the fear in her sister's eyes that caused her alarm bells to ring. She could bet that Lolade had seen more than she had said.

Romola didn't think she could continue listening without feeling sicker. Both of her sisters wanted to leave the house. One for safety and other for freedom. She had left for both of the same reasons and it had cost her dearly.

It didn't matter how far she went or how detached she tried to act, as long as her mother still suffered under the hands of that terrible man, she could never be free.