The Girl with the Louding Voice(79)

“She was getting big?” My heart begin to beat fast as I think of the waist beads under my pillow. Maybe she take them off because she was getting big, but the beads are inside a elastic string, so it can stretch and stretch and she don’t really need to ever take it off. I sigh. “Chisom, did she tell you—”

“Adunni!” Big Madam shout from upstairs. “Is Caroline’s bag in Saudi Arabia? Do you need to apply for a visa before you can access the bag, ehn? If you make me come downstairs and find you, I will—”

“I am coming, ma,” I shout before Big Madam will complete her sentence.

I turn around quick, nearly falling over as I run to the stairs, and just before I start to climb, I look back and see Chisom laughing, shaking her head at me.



* * *





“Your shop is very fine, ma,” I say to Big Madam as we leave the shop, and Abu is driving up a short bridge.

“So very big, beautiful.” My stomach is very hungry, and keeping silent too much is making my mouth to smell a foul odor, so I keep talking, even though Big Madam is sitting in the back seat, breathing hard, not answering me.

“Just like heaven,” I say. “All the lights in it, shining beautiful. The smell too, like perfume. The fabrics? So costly. So nice.”

Abu slide his eye to me, as if to ask if I am mad, but I keep talking: “And all those peoples coming into your shop and calling on the telephone, very big Nigerian people. Your children must feel too proud of their mother.” Then I keep quiet.

As Abu is turning into the road that is leading to the house, Big Madam say, “You think so?”

At first, I am not sure she is talking to me, so I whisper my answer, say, “I think so.”

Big Madam laughs. A real laugh. I turn around to look at her in the back seat. She is smiling. At me. With me.

“You are very good at selling to everybody,” I say, forgetting all of my hunger, and Chisom, and everything that was worrying me. “All the customers that came inside today, you sell to all of them, making good money. You make it seem so easy to do business. Honest, ma, if I am ever wanting to be selling clothes, ma, I want to be selling just like you.”

“Like me?” Big Madam press her fingers, full of gold rings, on her chest and laugh again, and her eyes, which were red and tired, are now lighting up the whole car. “Adunni, I started my business from nothing,” she say, pushing herself to sit up and lean forward. “Fifteen years ago, I was selling cheap materials from my boot, going from place to place, looking for customers. I wasn’t born into wealth. I have worked hard for my success. I fought for it. It wasn’t easy, especially because my husband, Chief, he didn’t have a job. If you want to be like me in business, Adunni, you will need to work very hard. Rise above whatever life throws at you. And never, ever give up on your dreams. Do you understand?”

I nod. Keep my eyes on her. Feel something share between me and her. Something warm, thick, like a embrace from an old friend.

Then Abu press the horn, peen, and Big Madam blink, look around. “Ah? Are we home already? Adunni, what are you staring at me for? Will you fly out of this car and get inside the house before I slice your head off? Idiot!”

I climb out of the car, tumbling over everything we just shared—the warm look, the quick smile, the hope that maybe she can be ever kind to me—and run quick inside the house.





CHAPTER 43

Fact: Nigeria has the largest Christian population in Africa. A single church service can record a congregation of over 200,000.

Buhari win the elections.

Kofi danced as if him and Buhari are sharing the same mother and father. “Change has come,” he say as the tee-vee announce the announcement last week, pulling off his white hat from his head, throwing it up and catching it with a laugh. “Change has come! Nigeria will thrive! This is what we have been waiting for!”

Papa was always following elections news, and I wonder now, with a pinch of sadness in my heart, if he too danced for this news, if he is still thinking of me.

But Big Madam was ever so mad. She curse and curse Buhari so much, I am fearing the man will fall dead any day from now. She say he is a witch doctor. That he does not know English. Now that makes me think, if he does not know English, and he is a new president, maybe Adunni too can be a president one day?

Today is the first Sunday in April, and we are going to Big Madam’s church for the Women in Business special thanksgiving service. She say I must follow her to help her carry the bag of fabrics she wants to gift to the women in her group. I have never been to church since I came to Lagos, and I am feeling excited as I climb into the car and sit in the front with Abu.

Big Madam and Big Daddy sit in the back. Big Madam is wearing her boubou, but this one is a heavy gold material, so heavy I have to carry the edges so she can climb into the car. There are white, shining stones on the shoulder and sleeves, a thick line of silver lace around the neck. Her gold gele is like a tiny ship in the middle of her head, her earrings a string of five red beads that drag her ears down to her shoulder.

I am still wearing Rebecca’s shoes. The edge of the shoe is now cutting, and yesterday, I used a needle and a thread to sew it back. I like the shoe, it makes me feel as if I know Rebecca from before, as if I am carrying her along with me on my feet everywhere, sharing her life, her secrets with her. I know that very soon, I will know what happened, why she just disappear and why nobody in this house is wanting to talk about her.