Mama's funeral was done in the village a month after her demise. She was buried right in front of our house in the village. It was a grand ceremony, I must admit, that even the villagers couldn't get over it that easily. They kept paying a visit to our house to laud aunt Caro and uncle Henry for giving mama a befitting burial ceremony. But no matter how splendid the ceremony was, nothing could heal the deep hole mama's death drilled in my heart. I mean, how could the claws of death just snatch away from me the one woman that took care of me when there were no parents to? The one woman that suffered for my sake. The woman that went through a lot for me just so that I would be alive.

I vividly remember the story she told me when I was little of how she narrowly escaped death all because she didn't want me to die. On that fateful day, mama had gone to the farm to fetch firewood, carrying me at her back. I was very young, probably two or three years old. I was terribly sick-in fact, I was always sick during my toddler days. So I was terribly sick that day that mama couldn't leave me at home with papa owing that papa himself was a very busy man and he probably couldn't watch over me throughout till mama came back.

When mama had finished fetching the fire woods, she carried it on her head and headed back home. On her way, two men attacked her by ambush and began to advance towards her, holding knives in their hands.

Mama was so petrified that she screamed and threw the firewood she was carrying on the floor and made a run for it. The men chased after her as she ran through thick bushes. Sharp objects had pierced into her feet, sharp edges of some leaves had also cut her skin, but she didn't stop running. Her survival meant my survival, so she had to make sure the guys that wanted to harm her didn't catch up with her. How she managed to escape them despite the fact that she had me at her back is still amazing up till this moment. She told me she had climbed a tree and the "mean men" ran past her. 

And that was it!

Mama had no idea why they wanted to harm us, but ever since that ugly experience, she didn't take me along with her to the farm again till I grew a little older.

Asides that, there had been other times where mama had gone through thorns to make sure she didn't lose me, but that's a story for another day.

Just like me, papa hadn't recovered from mama's death. As if loosing all his children except aunt Caro wasn't enough, he had now lost the love of his life. The flesh of his flesh and the bone of his bone. Losing the others might have hurt him, but losing mama certainly did more than that. He was shattered. He was depressed. He didn't have the appetite for food. He was always alone, sitting close to mama's grave and soliloquising.

Day and night, he sobbed. I had always known papa to be a strong and agile man, so seeing that his life had come apart at the seams even punctured my heart the more.

Why? Why did mama have to leave so soon?

This was the same question that I asked myself as I was laying in my bed reminiscing about those moments I spent with mama. It was two weeks after mama's burial and aunt Caro, her family and I had moved back to the city. Before we left the village, we left a trusted house help with papa to assist him with the chores. I volunteered to stay back, but aunt Caro insisted I followed them to the city.

Everyone in the house seemed to have forgotten about mama and had moved on with their normal lives. This ought to be the case with me. I ought to have stopped mourning over a dead and buried person. But I couldn't. This person happened to be one that I owed a lot to. Mama was one of the reasons why I was even going to school.

I had always aspired to complete my education with good grades, get a job, buy a car for mama and shower her with several other gifts, but now she was gone. She was gone! Hot tears rolled down my cheeks. It was so painful.

"Daniella!" I heard Amanda's voice approaching my room. I quickly wiped the tears off my face and sat up on my bed. The door flanked open and she walked in. "Daniella."

I sniffed before answering. "Hmm."

"Why are you crying?" Amanda squeezed her brows as she asked.

"Nothing. I'm not crying." I denied, shaking my head. I sniffed again.

"If you're still crying over mama's death, better stop. She was not only your grandmother. Even her daughter, my mum, has gotten over it. So what's your own problem? Don't you understand that everyone will die someday? We all just have to pray that we die at the right time-when we accomplish all that we ought to. And from what I can see, mama did. She grew old and saw her grandchildren. So if not for anything, for that one you should be happy. Anyways I'm not here to console you, I came here to tell you that my mum has asked me to call you." Having said that, she walked away, shutting the door behind her.

Amanda was right. Mama had lived to see her only survived child grow and bear grandchildren for her. That must have been a great achievement for her. What if she didn't even like the fact that I was still mourning over her death? I had to stop. I must stop.

I jumped out of my bed and went to meet aunt Caro, who was in the kitchen. She looked so furious when I walked in, I could see the smoke coming out of her ears.

"How long have I told you to boil eggs for me?" She growled.

I gasped and widened my eyes as I remembered that I had left two eggs in the steam for more than an hour. What was I thinking?

Oh yes, mama.

"Now the eggs have over boiled. You'd tell me what you were doing in that room that you forgot about the eggs." She said and hurled one of the eggs at me. I yelped as it hit me on the arm very close to my breast. The impact was painful.

"That's what you deserve since you're very stupid. You killed my mother and now you want to kill me too. It won't work. Now stand straight! If you move or bend, you're dead!" Aunt Caro menaced, widening her eyes furiously.

I sobbed as I stood still. She took the other egg and aimed it at my stomach.

"Ow!" I held my tummy and crouched to the floor as I groaned.

Aunt Caro hissed and pushed me aside as she stormed out of the kitchen. The torture in this house didn't stop with mama's death. If anything, it intensified. Mama's death actually opened the flood gates of hell for me me in this house. There was no name I hadn't been called. Murderer? Witch? Just name it.

Aunt Caro and uncle Henry vehemently accused me of having a hand in mama's death, just because mama had leg problem only when I went to the village and I didn't tell them about it when I came back to the city. I wonder what I did to deserve all of this suffering.

I was tired.

***

"I wan buy one thousand naira meat." I told the male butcher in the market. He was a dark old man, who had three tribal marks on his face. He took a whole of one of his meats and cut a portion of it. "This one na one thousand naira meat abi na wetin?" I sneered at him.

"Na so e dey be o." He answered. "Make I cut am?"

"Which time meat con small like this. No be how I dey buy am before na baba. Abeg add fisi for me!"

"Na because say you be my customer, na why I go cut o. Meat don small o, walai." The butcher said and then cut a small portion of another piece of meat to add to the other piece. He cut the meat into smaller pieces, put them in a small polythene nylon and handed it to me. I gave him the one thousand naira note in my hand and walked away.

"What else do I have to buy?" I stood and asked myself. "I have bought fish, meat, ugu leave, okazi... I guess I have bought everything." When I was certain about that, I started off to the house.

Suddenly, thick clouds covered the sky and thunder rumbled. It looked like it was about to rain. I increased my walking pace so it wouldn't start raining before I get home. The last thing I wanted was to be drenched in the rain. I could easily catch a cold.

The wind picked up and some people on the street began to run to find a place of refuge. I was so far from the house so there was no way I could get to the house quickly even if I ran. It would just be a waste of energy. Should the rain start falling, I would look for a place with a roof to stay under until it stopped raining.

With that thought in mind, the rain started to pour down heavily and unfortunately for me, there was no place I could stay under to protect myself from being drenched in the rain. It rained on me and I was so wet that I began to shiver.

The rain was still pouring when an umbrella went above my head, stopping the rain from hitting me. I looked by my side and saw Peter. I was so happy to see him.

"You shouldn't be walking in the rain, yunno? You could catch a cold." He walked by my side, using his umbrella to cover us both. He was wearing a black leather jacket and a brown chinos trousers. He folded up the bottom of his trousers probably because of the rain.

"I didn't have a choice. There was no place I could put my head under until the rain stops." I said.

"You're coming from the market?"

"Yeah, you?"

"I was heading to get something before I saw you. I'm starting to think God sent me to you."

I giggled. "You can say that again."

"You could use some help with this." He took the polythene bag, containing the foodstuff I bought, from me.

"Thank you." I said and then wrapped my arms around myself as I shuddered with cold.

"You're cold?" He said and I didn't know if it was a question or a statement, but whatever it was, it was obvious that I was cold.

"Yeah, so cold." I said, breathy.

"Hold unto this." He handed the umbrella and polythene bag to me and pulled off his leather jacket. He was wearing a black polo shirt under. "You need this to keep yourself warm a bit." He gave me his jacket.

"You don't have to Peter."

"Just take it." He insisted.

"But what about you? Aren't you feeling cold?"

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Daniella, don't worry too much about me, I'm okay. Just take the jacket from me."

I took his jacket and handed him the umbrella and bag as I wore it on. The jacket smelled so nice and it gave me a cozy kinda feeling. But despite the jacket, I was still cold.

"Wow, there's cold o." Peter shuddered.

"Now you're just gonna make me feel bad for wearing your jacket." I rolled my eyes.

"I'm fine. I can handle it." He shrugged like it wasn't a big deal, but I knew it was. He was just being selfless. "And that wasn't what I was trying to do, so don't feel bad." He said and put one arm around my shoulders and the umbrella was in his other hand.

I rested my head on him. "Thanks Peter."

"Anything for you babe. By the way, I'm sorry about your grandma."

I smiled. "It's fine. I'm getting over it."

"I don't really know what it feels like to lose a loved one, but I understand that it must be very painful."

"It really is. You've never lost a loved one before?" I lifted my head to look at him.

He nodded his head in the negative. "When my mum's father died, I didn't feel anything cause I didn't know him much. We were so distant. The only reason I felt a little sad was the fact that my mum was broken."

"I get. For my grandma, I literally grew up with her. She was a mother to me. Don't even get me started with..." My voice broke as I was beginning to feel emotional already.

Peter patted my shoulders in consolation. "Can we not talk about this?"

I tried to put myself together, as Peter and I walked silently in the direction of my house. The rain was drizzling now.

"So tomorrow is Valentine. What are you going to give your girlfriend?"

Peter burst out in a high pitched laughter.

__________________________________________

Hello guys! How are we doing? Look at when I'm updating. I'm so ashamed of myself. I've been extremely lazy, forgive me. I feel like I've lost a lotta readers, but I'm sure my fans are still with me😉 Thank you all for reading this crappy chapter. I'm a bit rusty. I edited this so many times before I finally decided to publish this. I'm still not satisfied sef. How was the chapter?

I sense the end of this book is almost upon us!

Don't forget to vote and comment!

Have you read Nought and Crosses by Malorie Blackman? Mad! If you haven't, go and read it. Not on Wattpad tho.