2

2 Bummi remembers how her own mama gathered up her wrappa to flee Opolo in the Niger Delta after Bummi's papa, Moses, had been blown up while illegally refining diesel heating barrels of crude oil in the swamps while standing too close to the flames of this cottage industry was dangerous producing diesel from oil that was only two barrels away from an open fire was dangerous the whole Delta knew, yet how else to survive in that devastated place where millions of barrels of oil are suctioned up by the gargantuan drills of the oil companies from thousands of metres down into the earth to provide precious energy for the rest of the planet while the land that produces it is left to rot when Bummi's papa passed, the plot of land he owned where they farmed cassava and yam was taken by his relatives in broad daylight you were his traditional wife, not his legal one, they shouted at Iyatunde, as they all descended on her hut directly after his funeral commot for dis place now-now, dis na our property now, we no wan see your leg here again, you no get anything to do for this place! Bummi remembers the long walk with Mama through the forest to her grandparents' home carrying their possessions in two baskets upon their heads back in the small-small hut where Mama's life began, her grandfather informed them he was going to marry Bummi off as soon as she reached puberty she go don ready soon, I fit manage that dowry moni, it go solve plenty problem for me, this one wey pocket dry everywhere

that night Mama told her that she was not going to allow her father to force his traditional way of life on to her child, just as he had chosen her own husband for herself when she was fourteen the next morning, with the little money she and Moses had saved tied up in the folds of her wrappa, she took Bummi by the hand before her father woke up and they fled the orange gas flares of the refineries burning twenty-four hours a day into the humid skyline for hundreds of miles they fled the toxic fumes that made breathing the very air difficult because to inhale deeply was to die slowly they fled the acid rain that made the water undrinkable they fled the oil spills poisoning the crops, the diseased fisheries in the soupy creeks, the fishing baskets lifted out of the water congealed with gummy black oil crayfish, crab, lobster – don die swordfish, cat-fish, croakers – don die barracuda, bongashad, pampano – don die they started the journey to Lagos where they moved into Makoko-on- Water and shared a bamboo hut on stilts with another family, with a platform for sitting outside and a shared canoe to steer through the dark and dirty waters Mama asked for work everywhere in the crowded city of Lagos, with Bummi trailing behind her feeling so ashamed of her dirty old clothes and blackened flip-flops she hated the big city with its noise and the filthy exhausts of the city cars that tried to run her over at first Mama tried to peddle roast corn and puff-puff on the streets until the other traders chased her away, this na our market, commot! Bummi watched her mama humiliate herself begging for work, they arrived at a local sawmill where trees that had been felled in the interior were lashed together to form floating forests that were towed downstream to the city her mama found the supervisor, Labi, walked boldly up to him, told him she was as strong as any man, could he not see her powerful arms from farming?

Oga, I get pikin wey mus' chop, I fit do this work, I no dey go anywhere, just give me work, abeg Mama worked six days a week in the deafening din and dust of the sawmill where she said the men got used to her once they saw she worked harder than they did then one day Labi said she did not need to carry planks of wood on her head any more, it was donkey work for idiots, and she was not an idiot, she could help operate the buzz saw at first Mama was happy until she came home shaking her head, saying, dat man, im tell me say no free lunch-o I go give us betta life and commot us for this suffer we go still survive, my pikin weekdays Bummi was collected by canoe to take her to the floating school on the lagoon, where the teacher collected the fees for his salary as soon as each child arrived, or they were sent home it never happened to her because Mama would rather go without food than have her miss a single class she told Bummi she was being ferried towards an education, towards an educated husband and an educated job sitting down at a desk that paid good money so that if her future husband died, she could support herself and her children until the unthinkable happened when Bummi was fifteen Mama slipped while trying to fix a cranky, steam-powered saw at the end of a shift and did not move quickly enough when its teeth whirred viciously back into action Labi came to school to tell Bummi the bad news she remembers collapsing on to the bamboo slats of the school's floor and crying into the waves churning below, she remembers getting into the canoe and being taken back to her hut where she curled into a ball she remembers being told by Labi that he had paid her rent and schooling for one month while he sought out relatives, na because of your mama, I dey do this thing for you-o he located a distant cousin, Aunty Ekio, who offered housework and childcare duties in exchange for accommodation and an education

Bummi was relieved she'd no longer have to survive on her own back in Lagos men were coming for her when she went shopping alone in the market including one big oga with one big belly in one big car who offered to set her up as his concubine while blowing cigar smoke in her face exclusive contract only Aunty Ekio came to the front door of her concrete house when Bummi knocked on it, raw with grief, and flung herself prostrate on the ground in respectful greeting, upset that her aunty did not in turn greet her as a long- lost relative you should be grateful I took you in, Aunty Ekio said, showing Bummi her three-level concrete house, the first time Bummi had been inside a home not made of bamboo, with rooms that led into other rooms such as one called a nursery for the children to play with their toys and a 'walk-in wardrobe' for Mrs Ekio Bummi soon discovered her aunty spent her days reading fashion magazines, going to the beauty salon, 'lunching with the ladies', cooking when she had to, and watching videos Bummi had to be on call before and after school Boomeee!!! Aunty Ekio shouted for her morning tea in bed, or if the furniture was not polished enough, or the children had messed up their clothes, or she wanted help in the kitchen, or for Bummi to change the television channel for her, or she needed something from the market Boomeee!!! Aunty Ekio shouted when she had a broken nail, bring me the file now-now, even though Bummi might be eating, or constipated on the toilet, or doing her schoolwork, or making sure the two boys took their bath without killing each other she herself had to wash-down with the garden hose Boomeee!!!, she heard when she was spitting into Aunty's cup of tea and muttering, I go injure you, lady, I go injure you, before taking it to her on a pretty plastic doily on a small tray Boomeee!!! she heard when she went to market, realizing it was an echo within the corridors of her mind, arriving back home to Aunty asking what

took her so long? do you take me for a fool-fool? were you making chit- chat with the boys? Boomeee!!! was shrieked into her sleep amid nightmares of losing this home too, just as she had in Lagos and Opolo before that Boomeee!!! she heard while sitting on the bus to the University of Ibadan when she began her studies in mathematics in the overcrowded lecture theatre students sitting on the floor and in the aisles where she dropped off to sleep at the back during her first lecture only to be woken up by a graduate teaching assistant who had entered the empty room to set up for the next lecture a young man called Augustine Williams Augustine who invited her to lunch that day, telling her she was a very pretty girl when she knew for a fact she was not Augustine who thereafter sought her out at lunchtime to sit in the shade of a tree in the grounds to eat ugba and abacha or peppered snails, suya or moi moi the two of them soon existed in a force field that cut them off from the bustle of the rest of the campus, how did this happen? two people meeting by chance and feeling as if they had known each other for ever he said he could see sadness in her face when it was in repose, which made her appear mysterious and beguiling she was surprised he was trying to see inside her, that anybody would, was she now mysterious and beguiling? she looked at herself in the mirror from every angle that evening trying to see herself as he saw her unlike the boys at college who treated women like toilets, he waited a long time before he tried to kiss her – a quick peck on her left cheek which she refused to wash off for three days with Augustine in her life, Bummi did not feel so alone they were two halves of a circle moving towards completion Augustine had grown up with his social worker father and typist mother who had resided in the same house since they were first married, whose own parents lived locally, as did his brother and sisters, aunts and uncles, who all descended on Sunday afternoons for a buffet of okra soup with fu

fu, buku stew, sesame spinach stew with palm-nut oil, vegetable yam, noodles, pasta, fried chicken and salad when he asked Bummi to be his wife, he reassured her that his parents would accept her, even though she had no close family to vouch for her, his parents believed marriage should be about love and compatibility above all other considerations they prided themselves on being progressive Bummi's hair was newly hot-ironed when she walked through the door of Augustine's home in a lacy white dress which came modestly below her knees and wearing her freshly whitened Bata sandals you are welcome, Mrs Williams said, as she ushered her into the living room, flowery curtains shutting out the midday sun Mrs Williams wore an elegant bubu of blue birds in flight she joined Bummi who sat stiffly on the wicker sofa looking up at the many framed black and white ancestral photographs dotted on the ledge that ran around the top of the walls Mrs Williams took Bummi's hand in both of hers and held them, Bummi marvelled at their soft warmth, her own mother's had been hard and scratchy Mrs Williams said she wanted her son to be an honourable and responsible person, that was all a mother should ask for we do not want a dowry, you have our blessing, you will be our daughter now Bummi thought she was a very lucky girl Augustine did not feel so lucky, he complained when they went for their long Sunday afternoon walks past miles of maize fields in the hazy sunshine his family was not connected enough to get him a job in government or business as befitting his PhD in Economics if he left for England, he was sure to find a job that would take him around the world as a globetrotting businessman or consultant he would eventually own properties in New York, LA, Geneva, Cape Town, Ibadan, Lagos and of course, London he would do it, yes, he would do it by the grace of God.