Akata Witch

convince. Why did her brothers have to be around, though?

“Good evening,” Chukwu said as she showed Chichi in. He looked her up and down. Sunny almost wished Chichi had come in her usual shabby clothes. Chukwu held out a hand. “I’m Sunny’s oldest brother, Chukwu.”

“Nice to meet you,” she said, shaking his hand. She looked him in the eye as she did so. Sunny didn’t like that, either.

“My sister has told me so much about you,” he said.

Sunny rolled her eyes. She hadn’t told him a thing. Ugonna stood behind him, apparently unable to speak.

“Mhm.” Chichi smirked flirtatiously. “There’s plenty of me to talk about.”

Chukwu’s eyes were flashing with interest as he sidled closer, a lazy smile on his face. Sunny wanted to gag.

“You know,” he said, “I’m captain of my school football team and the best player.”

“Oh,” Chichi said. “Is that because Sunny can’t play in the sun?”

Ugonna and Sunny snickered.

“Come on now,” Chukwu said in his buttery voice, trying to hide the fact that Chichi had thrown him off. “Football is a man’s game.”

That was enough. Sunny groaned and took her friend’s arms. “Back off,” she said, pushing Chukwu aside. She took Chichi to the kitchen to meet her mother.

“Your brothers are pretty,” Chichi said as she pushed her along.

“Yeah, pretty stupid, maybe.” But Sunny was more nervous about what was coming next. “Okay, now don’t say anything weird or anything, all right?”

Chichi sucked her teeth.

“Hi, Mama,” Sunny said. Her heart was beating so fast. “This is Chichi.”

“Hello,” her mother said, putting down her wooden spoon. “So finally I get to see this girl that my daughter spends so much time with.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Nwazue.” Chichi said. Sunny had never heard Chichi sound so respectful, which was a good thing. If Chichi stepped out of line once, Sunny knew there was no way they could get her mother to agree to a sleepover.

“How is your mother?” Sunny’s mother asked, looking Chichi over and sitting before them at the table.

“Oh, she’s fine,” Chichi said.

“Your mother and I went to the same secondary school.”

“Really?” Sunny asked, truly interested.

“I didn’t know that,” Chichi said, frowning.

“Mhm,” her mother said. “Asuquo was a year ahead of me, but we all knew her. She was good in literature and writing, like Sunny here.”

“My mother doesn’t talk too much about her school days,” Chichi said, sounding annoyed. “Not the ones here, at least. She says school is-”

Sunny stepped on Chichi’s foot.

Chichi smiled. “Oh, never mind.”

Her mother’s smile wavered. “What does your mother do now?”

Sunny pressed her foot harder on Chichi’s foot.

“She-she teaches,” Chichi said. “She teaches writing.”

“Oh? Where?”

“There’s a-small school in Aba,” she said. “She teaches there.”

“Well, that’s very nice,” her mother said. “Is this the school you attend, then?”

“Mama, her father’s that famous musician Nyanga Tolotolo,” Sunny blurted out.

“What?” her mother said, surprised. “Really?” Chichi nodded. “Sunny’s father absolutely loves his music. I didn’t know that!” Her mother looked more closely at Chichi, probably remembering the hut that Chichi lived in.

“Yeah,” Chichi said. “We don’t hear much from him, though. The most I’ve seen of him has been on his DVDs and TV commercials.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” her mother said. There was an awkward pause. “Well, there’s some jallof rice and plantain. Take as much as you want.” She got up. “It was good to finally meet you, Chichi. Greet your mother for me.”

As she was leaving, Chichi said, “Mrs. Nwazue?”

She turned around. “Mhm?”

“Can Sunny sleep over at my place this weekend?”

Her mother stood there for a moment.

“We’ll be good,” Chichi added, with a winning smile. “I know how Sunny was late getting home that day and all. It won’t happen again.”

Her mother looked shrewdly at Chichi. Then she said, “Make me a promise, then. Promise that-promise that you’ll both behave and be responsible.”

Sunny almost shivered at her mother’s intensity. “We will, Mama,” she said.

“Certainly, Mrs. Nwazue,” Chichi said.

Her mother stood there looking from Chichi to Sunny. She seemed to think for a moment, as if she was making a big decision. Then she nodded. “Be back on Sunday, by dinner.” The girls stood in silence as her mother filled a plate and left the room.

“What was that about?” Chichi asked. “She sounded like she was sending you to your death.” Sunny just shook her head. Chichi grabbed Sunny’s shoulders. “You’re going! This is going to be great!”

Sunny smiled, but still felt ill at ease.

“Woohoo!” Chichi said, sitting down. “That felt like a job interview.”

“Yeah,” she said.

“Well, it’s over. Cheer up, eh? Come on, let’s eat! I’m so hungry.” Chichi took a few mouthfuls. “Your mother is a great cook!” She paused. “You ever been to Abuja?”

“Shhh, lower your voice.”

“Sorry,” Chichi whispered, giggling.

“Twice. My aunt, my father’s oldest sister lives there.”

“I love Abuja,” Chichi said. “The air is so dry, and that big mosque is lovely.”

“And the roads aren’t so bumpy.”

Chichi laughed. “Yeah, that, too.”

“So is there anything I’ll have to do?” Sunny asked. “You know, like when I was initiated?” She shuddered, remembering the mud, dirt, and rushing river water.

“No,” Chichi said. “But don’t get too cozy. You know what we have to do about Black Hat.”

Sunny shuddered again. “Just-just tell me about this juju knife stuff.”

“We go see this man called Junk Man and you buy one from him. It’s simple.” She smiled. “You’ll see.”

Sunny hoped so.

12

Abuja

It was Saturday morning and the sun was just getting into gear. The friends were part of a crowd in front of the path to Leopard Knocks. Sunny couldn’t stop smiling. Since she was with Leopard People, there was no reason for her to pretend she needed her black umbrella. She was standing in the sunshine, just like everyone else. She’d considered asking Anatov why she was no longer light sensitive, but really she didn’t want to know.