The Lives We Lived

25: Not my wife.

“No,  what we need to do is get out of here.  Like right now." Kemi strolled towards the cab door but Osa's fingers clamped around  her wrist as he pulled her back to him.  His anger matched her confusion. 

“We're not going anywhere until you tell me what mama came to Lagos to say.” He barked. He saw the cab driver glance at them. His frown deepened as he met the man's eyes.  He pulled his wife under the tree then released her hands.  He paced from one enormous root that lay above the ground to the other that crawled towards mama's bungalow. 

“You were just inside with mama. Why didn't you ask her?" Kemi pointed at the window that faced the tree.  From there, a dark wrinkled face peered at them. 

“What did she tell you?”

Kemi's eyes ran down Osa's skin as though she was memorizing the position of every pore on his skin. “She didn't tell me anything. Except to get pregnant."

“Well, you are unable to do that but that's not what I want to hear.  Didn't she mention anything to you about Mayokun and my father's land?"

Osa's body trembled as waves of anger made his blood boil. He remembered all too well how much Mayokun's mother had made both he and his mother suffer.  Every cell in his body danced to a rhythmic anger that had brewed in his heart since he was six. 

“Oh." Kemi pouted. “You're talking about that."

“Why didn't you tell me?” Osa's voice cracked. He struggled to restrain the anger that urged him to walk to Mayokun's house, a few streets away, and beat the  Johnson surname out of his step brother.

Kemi folded her arms, frowning at Osa. “I didn't think it was important and if mama had wanted you to know, she should have told you herself."

“You must be very stupid," Osa paused, pointing to Kemi.

“Me?  Stupid?"

“How can you say my father's land, the only thing I inherited from him, is not important. They're about to give it to Mayokun." His anger tripled as he watched her face. He turned away from her, unwilling to add oil to fire. 

“Is that such a bad thing?"

Her words hit him like a ceramic dish dropping on a rock. A thousand words tried to force themselves out of his mouth at the same time.  He made incomprehensible sounds, stuggling with words that forced his tongue to twist in a foreign dance. 

Kemi continued with a pointed look.  “What is so bad about giving land to a farmer?"

“It's like you're adding madness to stupidity.” Osa spun on his feet so that he was standing directly before her. “Just because he is a farmer,  I should give him the opportunity to take what my father grudgingly left for me?"

“I don't see the point in keeping the land.  You work in a corporate environment. You don't have time to till the land.  You have no plans for it and you can afford to buy it five times over. So why? Why won't you give it to someone who needs it?"

“Needs what? What nonsense is spewing from your mouth this afternoon?"

“It's not nonsense. It's the truth."

Osa chortled, crooning his neck and frowning.  “Have you ever wondered why mama hates you so much?  It is because you and Mayokun's mother share so many characteristics. And your specialty is tribalism."

Kemi's jaw fell and her eyes widened.  Her lips quivered like a fish out of water.  “Me? Tribalistic? Because I said you should give Mayokun the land."

“What else can I say? He's Yoruba. You're Yoruba too.  Well done Kemi."

“It is just common sense Osa," Kemi tried to walk to him but he raised his palm.