This House Is Not for Sale (9 page)

It would be assumed that this would be the last we'd hear about Baby but it wasn't. Baby came back one day a few months later. Her skin scratched and with scabs in places. Her hair matted. Those who first saw her said she looked like a madwoman. Some said she looked like someone who had returned from the dead. And the story she told was that she had indeed come back from the dead.

Baby said that on the night of her wedding ceremony she had gone to the bathroom in order to wash her face to see if her headache would ease but discovered the bathroom was occupied, so she decided to take a bowl of water and go wash her face in the backyard. She said she scooped the water with her hands and was about to splash some on her face when she felt a hand tap her on the shoulder and a voice said
follow me
. This was the last thing she recalled. She said the next place she found herself was in a mud hut deep in the forest along with some other men and women. As she came to in the hut, a tall, dark giant handed her a piece of red cotton cloth and told her to undress and tie the cloth around her chest. The people around her were cowering,
very scared, some were sweating, a few were muttering prayers or incantations, but she couldn't be sure. She heard someone say that they had been kidnapped and that they were going to be used for money rituals by having their heads cut off and their eyes gouged out and their breasts cut off. It was dark, they were all standing, at intervals the door of the hut would burst open and the giant with the lantern would come and grab someone and take them outside, never to return. And so Baby slept standing, waiting for them to come and grab her. Her headache was completely forgotten.

The next night the giant came for Baby. She had been given nothing to eat since her capture but she didn't feel hungry. They took her to another hut. There was a giant carved potbellied statue covered with blood. There was a juju priest with a fly whisk. He touched Baby's head with the whisk. Baby shuddered more out of the fact that the whisk felt ticklish. He touched her breasts; he touched her belly and jumped back.

“Why did you bring this one to me? Can't you see she is already with child? And besides she is incomplete. She is not a complete human being. Take her away from here and get me a complete human being.”

Baby was taken away. When she got back to the hut, those who were standing in the hut touched her and asked her, What happened? How come you came back? Why did they bring you back? And they shrank back as they asked her these questions because none who left had ever returned.

She did not know how long she stayed in that hut. She couldn't quite recall if she ate or drank. All she remembered
was that one day they released her. She was taken a ways from the hut by the giant and after walking some distance in the forest was given a shove on the head and told to move along and not to look back and never to come back.

She said she wandered in the forest for a long time. When asked how long she wandered in the forest she would say for a long time. Numbers had never been her strong suit. Eventually she ran into a hunter who asked her what she was searching for so deep in the forest and she responded that she was lost. When asked where she came from, she responded that she lived in the Family House. The hunter said he knew where the Family House was and brought her back home. She was asked where the hunter was so that he could be thanked for saving her life but she said the hunter had simply dropped her off and left.

—Have you heard the story the bride who scampered on her wedding night is telling?—

—She says she was captured and kidnapped by ritual killers but had managed to escape. She told another person that the ritual killers let her go because only people who had all their faculties intact could be used for rituals. She was rejected by the gods—

—She had to come up with a story that would be more fantastic than a woman marrying another woman—

—She sometimes acts as if she is not
complete, not all there
, she is not the type that would make up stories—

—Why, but she was smart enough to escape on the night of her marriage—

—Don't be fooled, I know her type. She at least knows where to put it when she is doing the thing with a man, or does she put it in her nose?—

—We have heard of some people putting it in places more peculiar than the ears. And in that house too—

When Baby was asked what happened to the baby in her womb she said she didn't know. At what point did she notice the pregnancy was no longer there? she was asked.

“One day the pregnancy was there and then the next day I looked at my belly and the pregnancy was no longer there.”

Baby had gone back to being her old inarticulate self, who talked like someone who fell off the train.

There was talk of meeting with Janet and returning her gifts and money to her, but Janet sent word that they could keep it. She said she was happy that the marriage hadn't worked out and that she was sure Baby would have given birth to children that were not complete human beings, since she was not a complete human being herself.

O
f all the things that were said about the house, this was the one thing that was considered the factor that led to its fall—the death of a child. No one could say for sure that they saw it happen but it was like the smoke before the fire. As the saying goes—the owl cried last night and the child died in the morning, who can deny that the owl had a hand in the child's demise?

Quite a few people are of the view that this was the worst thing that had ever happened not only on the street or in the country, but the worst thing that had ever happened anywhere since the world was created, in fact in the history of mankind on this good earth.

Uncle Oluka was one of Grandpa's older sons. He was quite successful and had his hand in many businesses,
including a block-making factory. He was married to a very beautiful lady we all called Miss because she was a schoolteacher by profession. Miss did not have a child. When we were brought to the Family House over the long summer holidays, Uncle Oluka and Miss would come around too, but since they had no children of their own to leave behind in the Family House, a certain silence and quietness seemed to follow them around. Yet Miss was very generous and loved children. She always had a gift for all the kids in the house, a piece of candy here, a coloring book there, a stick of red chalk. What I remember most about her was that she left a faint trace of her cologne on everything she touched. Her cologne smelled like carnations.

Still there were those who did not want to see any goodness in her kindness. They said spiteful things behind her back and even within her earshot.

—How can two men be living in the same house? A woman that cannot bear children is no better than a barren fruit tree. What do you do to a barren fruit tree? You cut it down with an ax and use its wood for firewood—

—Why is the man struggling to acquire all that wealth? Who is he going to leave it to when he dies? Why work so hard when you have no heir to inherit all the wealth you'll leave behind you when you die—

—You know what they do in my place to such women? They send them packing; they throw their stuff outside the house and sweep away their footprints with a broom so that they can take their aridness along with them—

—Don't forget she is someone's daughter? It is not her fault—

—Are we not saying the same thing? She is someone's daughter; that is the main reason we are asking that she in turn should be someone's mother. The same way her mother gave birth to her is the same way she should give birth to someone too—

—But that is not even the worst thing about this whole shameful story. The most shameful part of it is that she has never had a miscarriage, not even one, so we can say she tried but it is not her fault or that she is going to have another one—

—And the poor husband always makes his own clothes from the same fabric as his wife. Is it “and co” they call it, or is it “me and my wife,” I have forgotten the name—

—Ah, you people, God will judge you people one day—

And then Miss became pregnant. For a long time she had not been to the Family House, and when she turned up, she was many months gone and her belly was protruding heavily.

Soon, the story was all over the street and the same tongues who had excoriated her could not say enough good things about her patience and how her pregnancy was a testimony to God's everlasting faithfulness and mercy and kindness.

—God is not sleeping—

—It would have been a grave injustice on the part of nature for them not to have children. Such a beautiful couple. They are made to produce beautiful children—

—She loves children too. She always distributes sweets and biscuits to all the children on the street. You know
God listens to the unspoken prayers of children because they are so innocent—

—Not only that, unborn children select kind couples to have as parents. Children oftentimes choose the homes they want to be born into—

—But you have to give it to the husband too. He is a real upright guy. All these years he withstood the pressure to marry a second wife, not once did he consider throwing her out of the house. People talked a lot and called her all sorts of names—

—It is the way of the world. No matter what you do, people must talk. Have lots of children, they'll say uncountable children, uncountable troubles. Have none, they'll say you are selfish. No matter what you do, people must talk; it is the way of the world—

And then Miss had the baby, a boy. At birth the baby would not cry. The midwife was confused for a moment, and then she lifted the child up high with one hand and spanked the newborn baby's pink bottom, which was still smeared with blood, three times in quick succession. It was only then the baby sputtered a weak cough and then whimpered feebly.

“All babies cry when they are born because they are leaving their more peaceful world into this our chaotic and wicked world of ours,” the midwife said.

Miss was weak and tired and was happy that the baby had come out at last after a long and painful labor. She was not bothered by the baby's not crying. All she wanted was to rest and for people to hear that she had given birth to a child.

“Well, if you don't want to cry, you can at least laugh,” the midwife said, and began to tickle the baby. The baby made no movement but shut his eyes even tighter.

Almost everything was hard for the baby to do. He found it difficult to suck, difficult to fasten his slack lips around the mother's nipple. Difficulty with stooling and even when he managed to stool, it came out in little pellets like goat shit. He would not drink water. He would not sleep at night. Initially it was speculated he was still living in womb time and had yet to adjust to earth time. He did not open his eyes, and when he eventually did, would look at neither his mother nor any person but had his eyes focused on the ceiling.

“Every child is different,” the midwife said. “Some come into the world on their head, some enter with both feet, and some even want to arrive this world sideways, with their bodies aslant in their mothers' womb. Some cry a lot, some play a lot, some neither cry much nor play much and grow up to be thinkers. I suspect your son is going to be a thinker one day.”

And then the child began to cry. As soon as he discovered the joy of crying he took to it like a champion. Not only did he cry, but he seemed to relish it and would stretch taut both feet and both hands as he cried. He cried when he was being given a bath, he cried when he was feeding, he cried when he was held, and cried when he was put in bed. Even when he slept, he slept fitfully and would sniffle and smother a cry even in his sleep.

Miss was unhappy and her eyes rimmed red from lack of sleep and worry, but her husband had never been happier.

“Remember what someone once said to me? You have been married now for many years and we have not even once heard the cry of a baby from your house. I am happy because the cry of a baby can now be heard from my house at all times,” he said.

But soon he too began to worry. Eating was difficult for the baby and so was keeping down his food. When they tried to make the baby burp, he simply vomited up everything he had been fed.

The child was named Amaechi—who knows what the future holds.

And as it turned out, one never knew with Amaechi.

He could not sit, he could not stand, and he could not lie on his belly or lie on his back. He had no food preferences, he loved neither water nor breast milk or powdered milk. He slept in the daytime albeit fitfully and cried through the night.

Uncle Oluka began what would turn out to be an almost endless consultation with doctors to find out what was wrong with Amaechi. They did scans and X-rays and tested his urine, his poop, his saliva, and even his sweat but found nothing wrong with him.

They consulted a native doctor. The native doctor told them to bring a white ram and a black ram, a white cock and a black hen, they did.

The native doctor took the child from the mother and tickled him, the child did not smile or show any sign of being tickled, the native doctor turned the child over and spanked him lightly on the buttocks, the child did not scream but whimpered lightly.

“This one does not want to be here. This one is not meant for this earth. He was forced to come here and wants to return from where he came. His days here won't be long, you'll see.”

They took Amaechi to a priest of a white garment church, Baba Aladura. The priest closed his eyes.

The priest hummed a tuneless song.

The priest spun around on both legs like a dervish,

The priest shook and shivered like one with a fever.

The priest began to sweat and wipe fat drops of sweat off his brow.

Finally, the priest spoke in a whistling singsong voice that sounded like a whisper.

“It is not good to force the hand of God. There is a difference between God's will and the perfect will of God. When a beggar asks you for alms and you are reluctant to give, you give the beggar your alms in the worst possible way. When you force the hand of God, he gives you, but not a perfect gift. We shall bathe this one for seven days and seven nights in the Atlantic Ocean.”

It was done.

Nothing changed.

Amaechi was taken to the university hospital. They ran tests. They X-rayed his bones. They took urine samples. They took stool samples. They found nothing.

No one quite remembers who it was that said it to the couple or if the couple came to this decision themselves. The voice said to them—
Kill this child before this child kills you.
Amaechi was brought to the Family House and it was done.

How was the child killed?

Was a pillow placed on his face and used to suffocate him?

Was the child placed facedown in a basin of water and drowned?

Was the child physically strangled with bare hands?

No one knows for sure except the person who did it. The only thing the relieved parents were told was that the child died without putting up a struggle. He did not struggle one bit. He was happy to go.

People said that the couple should adopt a child after their ordeal with Amaechi, but others countered that an adopted child would never be considered a full member of the family. The couple did not listen to anyone. First their visits to the Family House became few and far between, then they finally stopped coming.