6:00 pm
“Dear, you’ll love Aunty Remi and her children, I promise you.”
I said nothing, my gaze fixed out the car window.
My mom sighed, swerving her Bentley around a corner and stopping before a black gate.
“I won’t disturb anyone. I’ll just be in my room, as always,” I said, dreading stepping out of the car.
“My love, that’s why you’re here. You’re always in your room! Don’t worry, it’s just for a day. I’ll pick you up tomorrow evening. Honestly, you’ll love it here.”
I doubted it. Every time Aunty Remi called my mom, it was chaos—yelling at her kids with a background of shouting and crying. If there was one thing I disliked more than chocolate cake, it was noise. I shivered at the thought.
Mom honked, and the gate opened. Aunty Remi stepped out in a midi Ankara gown, her boho braids hastily packed. Flour dusted her cheeks and arms.
Mom rolled down her window, and I caught a whiff of spices and smoke lingering on her. I subtly held my breath.
“Ahn ah, Jemilah! How are you? You’re so pretty, o!” Aunty Remi exclaimed loudly.
“Thank you, ma,” I replied politely as she opened the car door. I stepped out, both of us turning back to wave at my mom, who motioned she’d call later.
The house was an unpainted bungalow with an untarred compound where chickens ran freely—a far cry from our duplex in the estate.
As we approached the house, the shouting grew louder.
“Don’t mind them,” Aunty Remi said reassuringly. “They’re always like that, but you’ll love them.”
No, I don’t think so, I thought as we entered.
“Mummy! I swear I’ll kill Barak! He touched my makeup purse!” A girl with Brazilian braids and a silky mini gown rushed toward us, livid.
“Why do you even have makeup? You’re just sixteen!” Uncle James scolded from where he was fixing a fan.
The girl stopped abruptly when she noticed me. “Oh… Jemilah? You’re Jemilah, right? My cousin?” she beamed.
I nodded, and she pulled me into a tight hug. “Welcome to our humble abode!”
Uncle James glanced up. “Reuben, Barak, Azariah! Come meet your cousin!” he called warmly.
Three boys emerged from a passageway, their faces familiar from photos. I stole a glance at the cramped living room—faded striped chairs, grimy carpets, stained walls, and curtains that had seen better days. The aroma of fried chicken hung in the air.
“This is Neriah, your age mate. Your mom says you’re a straight-A student—please, influence her before you leave,” Aunty Remi gestured to the girl who hugged me.
“This is Reuben, my eldest son. He’s studying nursing at UNIPORT,” she continued proudly. Reuben, shirtless, winked at me playfully and I lowered my gaze.
“And this is Azariah, Neriah’s twin. Please ignore him when he starts talking about Marvel or DC—” She stopped, gasping. “Azariah! How many times have I told you to wear proper clothes indoors?!”
Azariah shrugged in his thin boxers, unbothered.
Neriah quickly covered my eyes.
“What? Reuben isn’t wearing a shirt, and Barak’s in his pants!” Azariah retorted, strolling away.
Neriah dropped her hands with an embarrassed chuckle.
“And this is Barak, my last born,” Aunty Remi introduced the chubby boy in Spider-Man pants.
“There is also Kiki, a family friend staying with us but she stepped out” Aunty Remi finally said.
Barak blurted, “You are our rich, rich cousin?”
Reuben clamped a hand over Barak’s mouth and whisked him away.
“Neriah, take Jemilah to your room.” Aunty Remi said
Neriah flashed a grin as she led me to her room. Honestly, I was convinced my closet was bigger than her entire space. It was small and clustered with stickers of K-pop groups and flowers on the wall— a futile attempt at personalisation.
She motioned for me to sit on the bed, which I did.
“Ugh, do you want to change into something more comfortable?” she asked.
I glanced at my black maxi skirt, pink cashmere sweater, and the pink jersey scarf wrapped around my head. “No, this is comfortable for me,” I replied, shaking my head.
“It’s so cool to finally meet you! And, I have to say, you’re so pretty. Your skin? Flawless. The melanin is melanining!” Neriah gushed.
“Thank you,” I whispered shyly, suddenly unsure of what to say. I wanted to compliment her back, tell her how cute her dimples were, but I kept quiet.
“I heard you’re a straight-A student too! Oh my gosh, I’m super envious. You have everything! And you’re the only child? You’re living my dream life!” Neriah continued.
I wanted to tell her that it’s actually lonely being an only child, but I just smiled instead.
“You know …?”
Barak suddenly ran into the room, Azariah hot on his heels, chasing him with a water gun.
“You guys! Get out of my room, you’re soaking everything!” Neriah yelled.
Barak ducked behind me, and Azariah, still aiming the water gun, accidentally sprayed me right in the face, drenching my scarf.
There was a brief moment of stunned silence.
The three of them exchanged awkward, embarrassed glances. Neriah quickly grabbed a tissue and handed it to me. I dabbed at my face, exhaling slowly.
“Azariah, seriously? How old are you, and you’re still playing with water guns?” Neriah said, frustrated.
“Sorry, Jemilah,” both boys apologized in unison as they scurried out of the room.
“Let’s go check on them in the kitchen,” Neriah said as I followed her out of the room to the kitchen.
“Hey, girls,” Aunty Remi greeted us as she sliced a piece of chocolate cake she’d baked and handed it to me.
I shook my head. “Thank you, ma, but I’m not a big fan of chocolate cake—or anything chocolate, really.”
Neriah gasped dramatically. “You just broke my heart, dear cousin! Chocolate cake is the best!”
“I’m going to have to disagree with you on that one,” I said, making a disgusted face.
Aunty Remi chuckled. “Okay then… What’s your favourite flavour?”
“Strawberry,” I said with a smile.
Neriah pulled a playful yuck face as Aunty Remi opened a pot of simmering stew, and the mouthwatering aroma filled the air.
“Jemilah, your mom told me that you’re a vegetarian, so I’ll fry your stew separately,” Aunty Remi said as she stirred the pot.
“What? Vegetarian? So you don’t eat chicken, meat, or turkey?” Neriah asked, exaggerating as she licked her lips.
“I just don’t like eating them,” I laughed.
Aunty Remi smiled warmly and handed Neriah some cash. “Oya, you and Jemilah go pick up those cartons of fruit juice from Mummy Rebecca’s shop.”
Neriah led me out the back door, and as we passed, we saw Uncle James slaughtering a hen.
Oh lord.
“Weldone, Sir,” I said as we walked by.
“Ehen, thank you, Jemilah,” Uncle James replied with a grin.
6:31 pm
Neriah and I walked down the dusty, untarred road and entered a “face me, I face you” building. Neriah called out to a woman inside, telling her we were there to pick up the fruit juice.
As we waited, Neriah glanced at me. “Is it true you want to be a doctor?”
I nodded and smiled. “It’s my dream.”
“You’re lucky,” Neriah sighed. “You can actually follow your dreams… you know, I want to come out to my mom.”
“Oh…” I said, trying to keep my voice neutral. “So… when do you want to do it?”
“I gave myself a deadline! I have to tell her today before 12 PM. I have to find the courage!” Neriah said, determination in her voice.
“You can do it,” I said, giving her an awkward smile.
Just then, the woman emerged from her room with four cartons of fruit juice.
7:00 pm
As we got home, we followed Aunty Remi’s instructions to arrange the drinks in the freezer. Just then, a tall, fair-skinned girl entered the kitchen.
“Kiki, you’re back!” Aunty Remi exclaimed. “Meet Jemilah, my niece.”
Kiki smiled at me as she removed her beanie, revealing her short, neatly trimmed hair.
“How was it?” Aunty Remi asked.
“I saw him, and he’s fixed the travel bag,” Kiki replied, taking a seat on a stool.
It was already time for Maghrib prayers, so I excused myself and went to pray.
7:30 pm
After finishing my solat, I neatly folded my prayer mat and packed it into my backpack. As I was about to head to the living room, I heard a strained voice from the next room. I hadn’t meant to eavesdrop.
“What the hell, Layla? I need you now, of all times!” Reuben’s deep voice echoed.
I should probably leave, but my legs won’t move.
“I carried over two courses. My parents are going to kill me. I need you now! And what? You want to break up now, on New Year’s Eve? Is it because of that yahoo guy who’s been flirting with you just because he has a car?!” Reuben’s voice grew louder.
“Don’t you dare accuse me of cheating!” Layla’s voice was distant, but I could still hear the tension.
“We’ll talk after I sort things out with my parents!” Reuben snapped.
“That’s none of my business! We’re over!” Layla’s voice was firm before the call disconnected.
“F***! F***! F***!” Reuben cursed, kicking a chair across the room in frustration.
“Sister Jemilah” Barak called out, startling me as I inadvertently leaned on the door, causing it to creak. Reuben immediately came to the door, as he stared at me.I was about to leave when Reuben grabbed my arm but quickly let go.
“Uhm, I don’t know if you overheard anything about… uh… my carryover, but please, don’t say anything…” he muttered.
“I won’t,” I quickly replied, forcing a smile before walking away.
10:13 pm
I had just finished my night shower. We could hear songs playing from a neighboring building and the loud bursts of firecrackers exploding in the streets. I joined Kiki and Neriah on the living room couch. They were watching a K-drama called Weak Hero Class. I yawned the moment I sat down.
I don’t enjoy watching movies or series, but if I told Neriah that, she’d probably get hypertension. I could already imagine her exaggerated, dramatic reaction, asking, “What else do you even do other than read?”
Suddenly, we heard a scream. Everyone rushed toward the direction of the sound. In the kitchen, Aunty Remi was standing in front of a wet carton labeled Fireworks and the drenched box that held the ingredients for the New Year’s cooking.
“Who did this?!” she yelled, looking at all of us.
We glanced at each other, unsure of what to say.
“If no one confesses now, there won’t be any jollof rice or fried rice for New Year!”
Still, no one stepped forward.
“You guys better confess o!” Neriah said, glancing at everyone.
Silence.
“So, it was a ghost that made this mess, abi? I’ll deal with all of you, especially you boys!” Aunty Remi threatened.
“Mummy! It was Azariah and Barak o!” Neriah accused. “They’ve been playing with water all day like toddlers.”
Azariah and Barak immediately began to protest, denying everything.
“It’s okay,” Uncle James said calmly. “Let’s not spoil the festive mood. That 24-hour mart should still be open. Honey, just write down the list of what you need, and I’ll get them.”
Aunty Remi clicked her tongue. “I must not remind you people to spread these outside when the sun comes out tomorrow!” she said as she stormed off.
As we dispersed, Neriah and Azariah started bickering as a folded piece of paper fell from Azariah’s pocket.
I picked it up and, out of curiosity, glanced at it before handing it back. It was a love letter. He quickly snatched it from me and walked away, his face flushed with embarrassment.
10:35 pm
When I returned to Neriah’s bedroom, I noticed something was off. Someone had touched my backpack. My face mask, Vitamin D serum, and body oil had been used. Oh Lord, I despise sharing my personal belongings.
I stormed out of the room and approached Neriah on the couch.
“Hey, Neriah, did you—” I paused mid-sentence, noticing her wearing a face mask.
“Oh, Jemilah! I used your skincare products. They feel so nice—”
“I hate it,” I cut in.
“What?” she asked, confused.
“I hate it when people touch my things,” I said firmly.
“Wait, what? I’m not some stranger—I’m your cousin! Why are you getting mad?” she snapped.
“You’re not a stranger? I barely know you. I didn’t even know you existed until a few months ago, after our mothers settled their long-time feud” I yelled.
Reuben and Azariah paused their football game on the laptop to stare at us.
“Okay, you spoiled brat!” Neriah retorted. “You act like you’re so wealthy and mighty, but you’re just stupid and spoiled!”
“Says the girl that wants to be me so bad,” I said, earning a teasing whistle from Azariah while Reuben nudged him to stop.
“Mummy! Sister Jemilah and Sister Neriah are fighting!” Barak shouted, running to snitch.
“You hate it here, hypocrite!” Neriah yelled at me.
“Says the gay person who’s too scared to come out of the closet!” I fired back without thinking.
The entire room froze.
“Ehn?!” Reuben exclaimed, shocked.
Azariah’s game controller slipped from his hands, and Kiki’s mouth fell open.
“Wait, what? Me? Gay?” Neriah stammered, looking horrified.
“You said it at Mummy Rebecca’s place!” I said, feeling smug for a moment—until I realized what I had just done.
“Oh my God… Neriah, I’m sorry,” I blurted.
“Wait! Wait! Wait! I’m straight as a pole!” Neriah said, her voice rising. “When I said I wanted to come out to my mom, I meant I wanted to tell her the truth—I don’t want to be a lawyer. I want to be a journalist! I hate law.”
“What?” Aunty Remi’s voice cut through the tension. She emerged into the living room, dressed in a flowing bubu.
Neriah turned to her mother, her voice trembling. “I’m sorry, Mummy, but I don’t want to study law…”
Suddenly, we heard gunshots.
“Jesus!” Aunty Remi shouted as panic spread through the room. Neriah clung to me while Aunty Remi ordered us all to get down on the floor. She tried calling Uncle James, but he wasn’t picking up. Tears welled in her eyes as she hugged us for comfort.
She finally called a neighbor to find out what was happening.
“Ah, Mummy Reuben, it’s armed robbers o! They came to rob the Foundation Bank ATM. I heard two people have died. Lock your doors o—they’re entering houses too!”
Uncle James was still outside. What if…?
Neriah clung to her mother, sobbing, and Barak and Azariah joined in. The rest of us followed, crying silently. Just moments ago, we had been anticipating the New Year, ready to celebrate and jubilate. Now, fear had consumed us.
“Daddy will come back,” Barak whimpered. “He said he will…”
11:45 pm
Aunty Remi kept calling Uncle James’s phone, but there was no answer—until there finally was.
“Hello? Hello? My love, where are you? I’ve been calling—” Aunty Remi’s voice broke into a sob.
“Hello? Who is this? I’m sorry, but the owner of this phone is dead,” the voice on the other end said.
“What?!” Aunty Remi whispered. Neriah began to hyperventilate, and Kiki and I rushed to support her.
The caller continued, “He was shot during the robbery. My condolences, ma.” The line disconnected.
Aunty Remi slumped to the floor as the clock struck 11:50 p.m. The weight of sorrow filled the room.
But then, rustling came from outside. We all tensed as Reuben picked up a rod and moved toward the door. Suddenly, it opened, and Uncle James walked in.
Screams of disbelief and relief echoed. None of us moved for a moment.
“But… but we just called… someone said you were…d… dead,” Aunty Remi stammered.
“Me?” Uncle James asked, pulling a phone from his pocket. “Oh,” he said, realizing, “I must have swapped phones with someone during the stampede.”
Aunty Remi broke down, hugging him, and the rest of us joined, crying tears of joy and offering grateful prayers.
12:00 am
“Happy New Year!” we chorused as we lit fireworks in the compound.
The street, previously terrified and silent, now buzzed with life and celebration. Although two people had died, the neighborhood celebrated their own survival and privilege to enter the new year.
I noticed Reuben step aside to call his parents, likely to confess about his carryover courses. Smiling, I approached Azariah, who sat sipping a soda, his face still tense.
“You’re still scared?” I asked.
He nodded. “I don’t know what I’d have done if…”
“Life is short and fleeting,” I said. “Live without regrets—you never know when death might come. Go and tell her.”
“What?” he asked, startled.
I gestured toward Kiki, who was lighting fireworks with Barak and Neriah.
“The love letter is for her, right?”
“What… how did you…?”
I just smiled. “The initials on the letter: KK. And you stare at her a lot. Neriah said she’s leaving the country after the festivities. Better tell her now.”
Azariah hesitated, then stood and walked toward Kiki as Neriah approached me and sat beside me.
“Look I am sorry about what happened earlier” She said.
I shook my head “I should be more sorry, it was my fault…:
We both smiled at each other. After that argument, we might take some time to get use to each other again, but we will.
We watched the fireworks crackle in the night sky, the laughter around us filling the air with hope for the new year.
