CHAPTER 15 – THIS FAMILY CALLED MINE: COLOUR US UP

© Opeyemi Akintunde
As Inspired by the LIVING WORD.

We waited… eyes darting, ears tuned to the faintest of sounds.

Only when we were sure Tobe and his crew were long gone did we begin to breathe properly again.

“We can’t be too sure we won’t meet them on the road,” Morayo said cautiously. “They can do what I did earlier…park at a bend and wait. If we drive out and they notice something is off, they could stop us and search the cars.”

“That’s true!” Setemi agreed.

My mind was racing. We had to make a decision.

“Can we trust you, Sister Bolade?” I asked suddenly.

My sisters all turned to me like I had just asked a known serial killer if she could babysit our kids.

“She’s the only option we have right now,” I added quickly, answering their stares. “She already knows her route. She was already carrying the paintings out before we caught her.”

“I can keep them for you,” Bolade said, a bit too quickly. “I’m not greedy.”

I chuckled bitterly.

“Indeed? So what would you call what you attempted earlier?” Pamilerin snapped.

“But she’s right,” Morayo sighed. “We don’t have a choice.”

“One of us has to go with her,” Setemi offered.

“That would make them suspicious,” Morayo countered. “If we drive out and they notice one of us is missing, that’s enough reason to search the rest of us. We’d be giving ourselves away.”

“So you’re saying we should trust this woman?” Setemi asked, still unconvinced.

Morayo didn’t reply immediately. She walked close to Setemi and whispered something in her ear.

Setemi’s shoulders dropped, and after a pause, she gave a slow, reluctant nod.

Morayo stepped towards Sister Bolade, her face hard as iron.

“Woman, I’m sure my father would have told you how brutal I can be. I swear, if you run away with our paintings, I’ll hunt you down. I live and feed on the streets. I might look polished, but I’m a packaged ashawo. You know what that means? I have connections…real ones. Men who can sniff you out in Togo, Lome, Cotonou , even if you hide underground.”

Bolade gulped visibly.

“I won’t run. Aunty Mololuwa knows my house,” she said, turning to me.

I gave a small nod.

Morayo narrowed her eyes. “Try me.”

We helped Bolade stack the paintings…some balanced on her head, others tucked securely under her arms.

And then… we watched her go.

Watched our hope of a financial breakthrough disappear down that dusty path in a pair of tired slippers and old wrapper.

“I trust she won’t betray us,” I whispered, though my heart was thudding hard in my chest.

Just like Morayo had predicted, we met my step-cousins and step-brothers at the bend. They waved us down, forced another round of Searching…car searches, body searches like we could hide a painting in our bodies, and when they saw nothing, Tobe and my step brothers hurled their usual insults.

But eventually, they let us go.

We drove towards the city, but to avoid raising suspicion by returning too quickly, we diverted into a small roadside motel and spent the night. Sleep didn’t come. We were too tense, too wired.

At the break of dawn, we set out again.

I led the way…being the only one who knew Bolade’s house.

But as we neared her street, we noticed something strange.

A crowd.

A large crowd.

My heart started pounding. No. No, no, no…

We parked and jumped out of the car.

People were whispering, murmuring…

My sisters and I looked at each other.

I didn’t want to take the next step.

We pushed through the gathering, each step heavier than the last, like wading through cement.

And then…

We saw her.

Nurse Bolade.

Lying there.

Lifeless.

A cloth covered her face, but we knew it was her. Her wrapper. Her body. Her lifeless body.

“My God!” I gasped, collapsing to my knees.

Setemi screamed. Pamilerin stood frozen. Morayo turned away, her back heaving.

The crowd buzzed with speculation.

“She was found dead just before dawn.”

“No one knows what happened.”

“Maybe she was attacked…”

I clutched my chest.

Where were the paintings?

Where was our future?

To be continued…
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