1 FAKE LONDON GIRL

It takes strong will – strong will I say to come out of a habit; a bad habit most especially. I've been here and so have you, we've all been here – living that fake life that isn't our; the lies, the pretense and worse; the evil that comes with it - Alas! The evil we resolve to effect so as to maintain that fake life. It all begins with a lie, one simple innocent lie, but to cover that lie we tell a million more lies and then it never stop. It takes a simple heart, a telltale heart, and above all a spirit filled heart to live a lie and be stupidly bold to tell and relive the truth. Time and fate but made me know that "To live a lie successfully is to live another lie," but she had no such luck…

"Nwata kiri nwanyi!" began an older man, "When I heard you had come I was so glad," he looked back for support from the crowd behind him and they made a gesture of agreement then he continued. "And when they told me you had come all the way from obodo oyibo, I knew I must come to touch you so that I too can boast before I die that I touch oyibo," he giggled swallowing his words and the others burst into loud cheer and laughter. It didn't take long before Mama came out and she led them to where the others were, already drinking and eating.

"I'll join you people soon," Priscilla motioned and started for the other end of the compound, her gaze shifting and welcoming the throng that trooped in. Are people in this town so jobless! She said beneath her feigned smile. She was done for, all because of an innocent joke which was supposed to have passed for humor. She had been away too long to remember that Anagara people had no sense of humor.

She bit her lips and flung her head downwards, she had found a corner to lay low, away from the increasing crowd who were beginning to jeer in drunken jubilation. They were being inspired by the bottles of beer before them; she needed her own form of inspiration. Letting out a heavy sigh, she closed her eyes and remembered a bill board which she had one time come across in Lagos. It read: When bewildered, close your eyes and listen to your inner voice, let it inspire you, let if guide you. She obeyed, only two minutes after she had heard nothing. She cursed that moment, when it all began, when she lied – no, it wasn't a lie, it was a metaphoric way of referring to Lagos, they just didn't understand.

"So if grandma illness had not gotten worse you wouldn't have come home?" her cousin asked with a frown.

"No I'd have. I was already planning on returning then I heard of the state of her health."

"And so where have you been all this years? Nobody even knew your whereabouts; you just snuck out of the town."

Priscilla giggled. "Hustling now, I was in small London."

"Really! London!" somebody had exclaimed and broke out of the crowd that had gathered to greet her on her return. He didn't wait to confirm instead was running out the compound and began shouting "Priscilla bia si London o!" they all laughed and motioned she go change her cloths then return to do as custom demands – to wet their mouth with food and drinks for her safe journey. She had no idea that she was going to be feeding the town.

She lifted her gaze from the ground towards the jubilating crowd then to the entrance of the compound, their neighbor Tobe strolled into the compound with less enthusiasm, her eyes threatening tears but none fell. Tobe went to meet Mama and whispered something to her ears, both their faces turned dour. Something was wrong, especially from the way Mama took her aside to tell her something. Tobe before leaving explored and found me.

"Tobe my baby. Why haven't you come to celebrate with me? Haba! Is this how life is?"

"My Nna is dead," she blurted.

Priscilla said nothing but in dourness embraced her, feeling ashamed how she had without asking accused Tobe of not wanting to celebrate with her.

"Your mum said you will both come later because of your guests."

"They are not my guest," she wanted to say but didn't, instead said "I'll go with you, Mama can handle them till I return."

Priscilla and Tobe entered their compound, they were at first welcomed by the wailing and tears of mourners, but on realizing it was her, they waited their tears for a warm welcome. She felt weird being treated and greeted like a royalty – their hospitality, at least not from folks supposed to be mourning.

"I see your chi has not left you even though you left us," Mummy Tobe spoke, her voice ambivalent.

"I've been…

"In small London," Mummy Tobe finished her sentenced. "We heard. But what is small in London? My daughter London is London o," the women around her gestured in varying sounds. "And it's no mistake the role you'll play in his passing, you know you were his favorite neighbor," she said, tears following her last statement, others joined her in tears.

"I'd in my own way donate fifty thousand to the family during this trying time," Priscilla's words broke the room into silence. Everyone froze, so did their tears. Mama Tobe broke the surprise Silence singing songs of praise.

Grandma opened her mouth as if to say something, only air passed through before she shut them again. Priscilla held her by the hand and cuddled them; she needed much more than that. Mama had come earlier to say some entitled chiefs were in the compound and have come to greet and wish grandma well. It was a month after her return home and visitors had not stopped visiting. It seemed the family had even forgotten they were all gathered home because grandma had called.

"The first goat we bought wasn't good enough," Mama told her before leaving. "Give Oluchi money to buy a bigger one, friends and well-wishers has not reduced."

"Well-wishers my foot," Priscilla bit back with an undemonstrative look. She swivel to the window then to grandma wishing she could at least talk; needed someone to talk to, someone to share her fears and joy with – not that she had any joy so far since returning. She no longer trusted her friend; Juliet, how could she tell Juliet this had all been a lie, that the British accent (she had been practicing) she now carefully speak were fake – the whole town will mock her till something or someone else had better reason to be mocked.

She let out a sigh of ambivalence then stood to rest her head on the wall. She was dying, losing her nature. How was she - Priscilla Igwe that made everybody laugh, and was willing to lend a helping hand stoop so low to do otherwise?

"How can you that have money be seen doing things that belittles your prestige," her cousin had said on one of those occasions when she mentioned missing those melodious moments.