Preordained #ProjectNigeria

51- Palm Wine

Nwanyieze's POV ~

I'm sitting underneath the mango trees well after dark, too scared to go back in.

What did Saheed tell him? Maybe you're overreacting. Maybe he just told him something else.

My extremities are still cold, despite the warmth of the night. Mosquitos buzz around me in the darkness, but I'm too bothered to slap them away or kill the ones that are already drawing blood from me.

It feels like I'm numb inside, but my heart is still beating rapidly. My breathing is shaky, my body is trying to prepare for any confrontation.

By flight.

There is no fight left in me for this situation. Something I'd been dreading was happening and I have nowhere to run to. This isn't Lagos, where I can run back to Mama Uju and Adanna.

He looked so calm.

And yet I could sense something else.

Saheed, 1. Nwanyieze, 0.

Guilt gnaws at my insides, that Maduka has to hear of this from someone else.

And you won't even deny it.

I know, that if I ever denied it he would believe me. That is how much this man loves me, to take the words coming from my mouth, truth or lies. And Saheed would go to the farthest length to prove it to him, still. Until I can't deny it anymore. But I know, in my heart of hearts, that I can't deny it.

"Nwa m, Nna anyi is calling you inside," Daa Ndidi's voice interrupts my thoughts.

I shoot to my feet in a split-second and turn to see Maduka's aunt a few metres from the tree, holding a kerosene lantern.

"Is all well with you and enyi gi nwoke?" She queries as we walk back towards Maduka's bungalow.

"Yes, Daa. I was just receiving fresh air."

"On this cold night?"

Daa Ndidi has proven herself to be a very observant woman. The night is a bit cold, and I had been sitting outside in a thin gown, alone in the darkness.

There is no power, and so the generator that Maduka had bought a day after our arrival is what provides electricity for the two compounds.

I enter the small sitting room to see Dee Ikenna and Maduka seated opposite each other, with the ebony centre table between them. That keg of palm wine from yesterday sits on the table.

"Our wife," he greets me. He seems to be in a good mood tonight, because he is smiling widely.

I smile tightly and greet him with a small curtsey.

"Have you ever tasted mmanyi ngwo?" Dee Ikenna asks me.

I shake my head.

"Why are you hiding outside kwanu?"

"I was receiving fresh air, Dee."

My eyes involuntarily settle on Maduka's face. There is no smile there for me, but his eyes are bright when they meet mine.

"Sit and join us. Ndidi!"

Daa Ndidi rushes in like she'd been waiting right outside the door. She looks worried. There are creases on her forehead.

"Bring those tumblers I kept in my room. Those really fine ones with gold design on them," he instructs.

She nods and leaves. A few minutes later she returns and says she can't find the cups.

"They're on the highest part of the cupboard, nwunye m."

I sit silently and listen to Maduka converse with his uncle about how he plans to build a bigger house beside his father's bungalow. Dee Ikenna listens attentively, offering suggestions on this and that. After a while, I drift off into my own world.

"Are you sure you're fine, nne?" Dee Ikenna asks, snapping me out of my dark thoughts.

Once again my eyes move to Maduka, who also watches me, brows raised like he's also waiting for my reply.

Why is he acting this way? I wonder. Who  just finds out he's dating a prostitute and keeps calm about it?

"Yes, sir."

Daa Ndidi returns with the tumblers after a while. They are short, pretty ones with wisps of gold etched around the rims.

"Won't she share palm wine with us?" Maduka asks.

"She's pounding yam for dinner." Dee Ikenna's reply sounded like he was dismissing her.

Daa Ndidi leaves the sitting room.

As Maduka's uncle is telling us about the wonderful palm wine their village makes, the lights suddenly go off, plunging us into darkness.

"What is wrong with this generator today?" Maduka asks with a sigh. "So much is going on today already."

He's talking about me.

"I have a torch. We'll manage lamps tonight."

"Dont worry uncle. Just give me your torch for a few minutes. I'll fix it right now. Maybe it needs more diesel."

A flashlight comes on, it's beam directly in my face and nearly blinding me.

Maduka apologises and tells me to turn on my phone flashlight and stay put. He walks out and his uncle follows him, saying I should try the palm wine and tell them how it is when they come back. I do as Maduka had instructed, before deciding to take a few sips of palm wine.

Maduka's POV~

The generator had just been switched off. Just like that. No one is in sight, and I wonder if it's one of the children from other compounds, trying to be mischievous.

"I'll go and ask my wife if she knows who did this," my uncle says. He sounds angry. "Such disrespect!"

He walks off, leaving me standing alone. I switch on the generator, a Nissan machine I had ordered for from Owerri city the day after our arrival.

"Maduka," a voice whispers from behind me.

I turn to see my aunt step out from the shrubs, tiptoeing and looking around cautiously. When she gets close to me, I see that her face is streaked with tears.

"Daa Ndidi, are you alright?"

"Your uncle wants to kill you and Nwanyieze."

It feels like I've been doused with ice cold water.

"What? Dee Ikenna?"

"Listen carefully." She starts talking frantically, holding my face firmly between her palms. "He killed your family. He doesn't want you here. He poisoned the palm wine."

Nwanyieze might be drinking the palm wine.

I leave my aunt there and run back to the bungalow.

Nwanyieze, for the love of God, please don't touch that palm wine.

It feels like I'm not fast enough, like time has slowed down and its affecting only me, like I'm in one of those movies where someone has pushed the slow motion button, like my feet have turned to blocks of lead.

I burst into the sitting room, breathless.

Nwanyieze is drinking a cup of palm wine, almost draining the tumbler.