Innocence, Anger and a Pack of Rat Poison

‘Oya oya, it’s time to pray oh, make una wake up, you don too sleep… Ada, Emeka, Chika, Obiageri, ngwa ngwa, osiso ohh!’

Grandma’s voice was always too loud in the morning. Chika had once joked about seeing a megaphone in her throat when she opened it to swallow eba two weeks ago. They did not like that she wouldn't let them sleep in, even during the holidays. Emeka was the worst; he had once pretended to be dead until Mama splashed ice water on his face. He jerked up like someone being delivered from an evil spirit and never pretended again.

Mama was a grandmother to four, now five lovely children from her first daughter. She usually came around for the holidays, but this time she was around for both the summer holiday and omugwo because Obianuju, her daughter - Chika’s mother had just given birth to the ‘final bus stop.’ His naming ceremony was in a few days, and he would be called Somtochukwu Ezeego. Ada thought ‘Ezeego’ was a ridiculous suffix to her new baby brother’s name, but she wouldn’t dare air her opinion, because Mama would drag her mouth and say ị nwere ọtụtụ echiche, you have too many opinions.

Morning devotion was held in the large parlour, as was every other serious family activity. Ada would lead in worship, Chika would recite a few paragraphs of the Lord's Prayer, Emeka would read the scripture Mama dictated, and Obiageri would recite the remaining part of the Lord’s Prayer. It was a slow routine because Mama was partly deaf and needed to hear everything they said, so they read out loud and slowly.

Today’s devotion was no different, except for Ada. She struggled to find the right worship songs to sing. Mama gave her quick, irritated stares before she finally blurted out, “Good morning, Jesus, Good morning Lord.” She wondered if she really wanted to greet Jesus, if good morning was what He wanted to hear anyway, because for almost a month now, she had tried talking to Him but He never responded.

All He did was watch her suffer and say nothing.

The conflict over whether to greet Jesus or not wasn’t the only reason Ada suddenly lost her words. There was an elephant in the room. A snake, actually. A lion, maybe? Maybe the devil himself- yes. But this time, it was a she.

The maid Mummy brought from some village in the Middle Belt.

Msuung had only been employed to work for the Ikengas recently, and, just a week ago, she began showing her true colours, not to the entire household, of course, but to Ada.

Ada was supposed to raise the second worship song. When she got stuck again, she mistakenly made eye contact with Msuung. Memories of all that had been happening flashed in her memory. She quickly avoided eye contact and bowed her head to the floor in shame.

Last Week Saturday

It was 10 p.m. that night. Ada had just finished studying for her SS1 Chemistry exams, which were coming up immediately after the midterm break. Daddy would usually be around to guide and give moral support, but he had travelled for a board meeting and wouldn’t be back until the next week. Mummy was occupied with Somto. The new small man often cried as if he knew the Earth was a disaster and wanted to return to where he came from. Luckily, he had slept, so Mummy stole the time to sleep too.

Grandma shared Ada’s big room and had already begun snoring. Tiptoeing into the room, Ada undressed and stepped into the shower to bathe and exhale all the stress before sleeping like everyone else.

The water trickled down her body — warm, therapeutic, calming. She had even closed her eyes to get soaked in the feeling of rejuvenation when she felt a hand grab her bum. She couldn’t scream because the other hand was tightly covering her mouth. She knew she could barely struggle, so she tried to calm down as she slowly turned over to see who it was.

It was Msuung. The maid.

Msuung, at this point, had already begun aggressively caressing Ada’s body, putting her lips in places Mummy had censored as prohibited. Her fingers traced down Ada’s thigh and landed where it caused Ada pain. Ada squeaked and ran out of the bathroom with every ounce of strength she had left.

Grandma was still sleeping, snoring even when Msuung strolled out of the bathroom, stared at Ada, snapped her fingers, and bounced out of the room.

Ada did not sleep that night. She sat up, wondering, asking mental rhetorical questions, her body still shivering from what she had just experienced. She couldn’t tell Mummy because she wasn’t sure if Mummy would believe her. Actually, Mummy scared her sometimes, because she always said things like “If anybody touches you in the places I have taught you to protect, you will get pregnant.” So she wondered if she was pregnant now.

Msuung showed up again. The next day, and the next, and the next. Ada could no longer resist the snake. She had no willpower to fight or report her anyway. So she just let her have her way and went to bed almost every night feeling like filth.

“Ada Mummy… ADA MUMMY!” Mama sharply called her back to her senses.

“Sorry Ma… ermm… this is the day, this is the day that the Lord has made…”

“It’s okay, Nne m. We have finished the devotion already. Bia, nwanyi oma, follow me.”

Mama held Ada’s hand softly and took her to the kitchen outside the house. The house was a bit too large for Ada’s liking, but Daddy was the Opara, and they often held clan meetings in his house; it needed to be big enough to accommodate the entire Umunna, and the rest.

Mama tried to talk to her, asked what was wrong, why she had suddenly become a dummy since the arrival of Msuung. But Ada could not speak. She knew that if she did, she was going to die (well, that’s what Msuung told her from the very first day). Somehow, she felt like Mama already knew but just needed confirmation from her first.

“Nne, I know you might not want to tell me how, but when you are ready, I am here o. And if you already know how to deal with the problem, your Chi will guide you.”

Mama had just unknowingly endorsed a 14-year-old Ada to commit murder.

The torture continued, but so did Msuung’s terror, because Ada had developed anger. Bitter, ferocious anger. The type that was developed in silence and neglect. She had figured out a way to buy poison. She wasn’t sure what type, so she bought different ones. Sniper had the fastest effect, but she didn't want that. Somehow, she wanted to watch the snake suffer slowly, so she bought rat poison.

Almost daily, she would insert it into Msuung’s food when she wasn’t watching. Even though Msuung was the maid, Ada was the first child and had the responsibility of making breakfast for the family when on holidays, so it was perfect. She would usually serve everyone’s food before they came to the table. Msuung was treated like family, so she ate at the dining table too.

Slowly, the effects started to kick in. Msuung began showing signs of weakness. She vomited often, all the signs Ada expected to see as proof that her plan was working. Then, a few days before the poison would end it all, Daddy came back home.

Ada followed the driver to pick him up from the airport. In fact, she drove because Mr. Ola was a very nice man and had started teaching Ada to drive every time she was back from school. In his words, “Your papa na good man, and you know say I no dey sleep for una house, so in case anything happen for night and mummy no dey to drive una comot, you fit do am as Ada wey you be.”

Daddy was Ada’s favourite person in the world. She got him flowers on their way to the airport, like he would do for her, and when she saw him, she speed-ran and hopped on his body, crying profusely. It felt safe. It felt like relief. And he carried her that way till they got to the car.

At home, she carried Daddy’s luggage inside, the ones she could and especially the one where he kept his foreign currency. It was his famous dollar purse, and she had the code to its lock. Ada had the code to everything in the house.

When everyone was busy welcoming Daddy, Ada’s plans were rolling. The welcome party was elaborate because Mummy always brought in dancers and singers to hail her king whenever he arrived from ANY trip. It was one of the things Ada loved about her parents; the love and honour went both ways and ran deep. Daddy did the same for Mummy whenever she returned, even if it was just a two-day trip. The whole house would be full of friends and family, and an outsider would think a major celebration was happening.

The Oja player had begun his eluding with the flute, and everyone was dancing and singing when Ada snuck back into Daddy’s room. She pulled out a thousand dollars, snuck back to the guest room where Msuung stayed, hid the money in her handbag, and ran out to join the welcome party.

She sighted Msuung, whose left leg was already swelling slowly.

Three days after Daddy's arrival, he was checking through his things when he noticed the missing money. He notified Obianuju, his wife, and immediately, the whole family was called to the parlour.

A day before, Mummy had noticed Msuung’s health declining and offered to take her to the hospital. But she declined because in her ‘culture,’ they didn’t use Western medicine. She wanted to go home. Mummy had booked her flight, and she was meant to leave that weekend.

The air was tense as Daddy went around asking every single person if they had taken any money from his bag. Everyone declined, even Ada. The next best step was to search the rooms. And they did. Mummy, Daddy, and Mr. Ola did the searching. Of course, as Ada had planned, they found the money in Msuung’s bag.

‘Ah ah, Msuung, but I had just bought your flight ticket and transferred money for your treatment and upkeep till you got back. Why did you decide to steal from my husband?’

Mummy was heartbroken, almost in tears. Daddy stood by her, patting her back to calm her down. Everyone in the house was in utter shock, except Ada. Ada stared Msuung straight in the eye and gave her a dark smirk.

It was then that Msuung began to connect the dots.

The weird taste of her food on some days, the sneaking in and out of daddy’s room on his welcome day. The sudden coldness and unreceptiveness of Ada. She had planned everything. And how slow of Msuung not to notice. She had been too occupied abusing her madam’s daughter to see death at her doorstep.

Of course, Msuung left the next day.

……………

The house was bubbly. Grandma had one more week before finishing her omugwo, so the family was preparing to send her off. Everything for the Ikengas was always big, especially when it came to family. They had just bought a huge goat and were skinning it; music was blasting through the air. Mama was dancing traditionally with Emeka and Chika, Obiageri was gracefully shaking her tiny waist, and Daddy stood there laughing at her attempt to dance like her mother.

All was good and fine until Mummy suddenly dashed out of the front door, Ezeego in one hand, her phone in the other. Everything stopped, just like you’d see in the movies.

“Msuung’s family just called,” she screamed, breathless. “They said she’s dead. They haven’t done an autopsy yet, but they suspect she might have been poisoned. They said she went out with her friends in the village the night she got back, and they think they may have poisoned her.”

Again, the whole house fell into confusion, except Ada, who wore a blank, remorseless expression.

a hand reaching out of a window in the dark Photo by Vitalii Khodzinskyi on Unsplash Mama slowly dropped Obiageri’s hand. Her face rose gently, her eyes meeting Ada’s cold, empty gaze. And in a voice laced with fear and grief, she muttered:

“Nne m oh…”