Preordained #ProjectNigeria

55- Welcome Back!

Maduka's POV~

The day after Nwanyieze's departure, the first meeting between my cousins and I after over twenty years happens to go with ease. The last time I had seen them, we were children who had played in the sand the day before the death of my family.

Onyebuchi and Onyekachi.

Our compound is full of people, and so for privacy, they come into my bungalow. I expect some form of hostility, but they are pleased to see me and we all embrace while they exclaim.

Onyebuchi, the older brother, is as tall as I am but with more bulk. A few grey strands are scattered all over his hair, although he is younger than I am. Onyekachi, who lives in America, is leaner and shorter than his brother. They retained some of their childhood features, especially the huge smiles.

"We are sorry for what our father did," Onyebuchi says when we settle down on the overstuffed chairs. "Who would have known? What an abomination."

"We are not mourning him, either. He who kills his brother should be wiped out from history," adds Onyekachi.

"I am still sorry for his death," I tell them in a sombre tone. "He was still your father. I thought you would be hostile towards me."

"Maduka, you are our brother. Our father killed your whole immediate family, contributed to your disappearance-- his death can never be enough." Onyebuchi places a hand on my shoulder.

"Please don't blame our mother. She has always been a good woman. She told us to also beg on her behalf."

I give a small laugh. "Daa Ndidi is no trouble. The day I left, I heard her crying for me to come home."

We spend a few hours making plans, agreeing that the lands that rightfully belonged to my father were now officially mine, and catching up on the last twenty years. A few kinsmen soon join us, and we share some palm wine and Schnapps.

My uncle is buried the next day in the forest, and we are instructed not to attend. A group of men, dressed in black, come into our compound to tell us that his corpse has been taken into the forest. Out of respect for his sons, his burial was postponed until their return. But where his corpse was kept, no one agreed to tell us. He no longer belonged to us, as we were told, and so we weren't supposed to bother about him anymore.

Daa Ndidi does not come out for the whole day, ashamed and scared of being mocked. No form of persuasion from any of us convinces her. The following days pass in a blur, full of clan meetings and visits to relatives. I have been fully accepted, and I find this welcome soothing after twenty years of being away from my people.

At night, I lie awake in bed, thinking of Nwanyieze. I wonder what she is doing, I wonder if Saheed...

Don't think about him.

But how can I not do that?

Saheed, who has no qualms about trying to take her away from me to the point of lying? Is she even safe from him in Lagos? And he knows her address.

Stop it, this isn't the movies. Nwanyieze is a grown woman and can take care of herself. Nothing is happening.

But my hand reaches for my phone on the floor.

"Hello?" comes her voice.

It is past midnight and she sounds wide awake.

"I miss you."

"I miss you too."

"What is keeping you up this late?"

"I'm still relearning to sleep alone," Nwanyieze replies with a small laugh.