I was born Shelby Edla Ekeoma Leila Norbert – Shelby Norbert for short, but all the other names meant something. Leila was to represent my grandmother’s Brazilian heritage. Ekeoma, of course, was for my dad’s Nigerian origins. I didn’t know what Edla was for, and I never asked. It was just a name on my birth certificate. If you asked me though, I’d say that I had way too many names for one person. Just being Shelby was fine enough for me, being the beloved daughter of a naturalized-Brit, Norbert A. Chimaobi, and his Wales wife, Hayley Spence. Then came Phina, seven years after I had gotten used to being the centre of attention. She was the gregarious cutie who looked just like her mommy, and tailed after her wherever she went.

I knew mom loved Phina a lot. Of course she loved me too – daddy would never let me think in terms of who was loved more too. He also wouldn’t let me read too much meaning into the difference in complexion between Phina and me. He said we were just like him and Aunty Cece. Wasn’t his sister fair despite grandma being from the darker-skinned region of Brazil, and granddad (who had been dead for over two decades) being black as charcoal as he was? By the way, Aunty Cece’s kids were pretty too light-skinned for Uncle Chiedu. And dad liked to tease that Uncle Chiedu was blacker than night. At least dad was fair, so maybe I took after him and Phina after mom. That’s why I thought nothing of Phina’s obvious “whiteness”. She was my kid sister, and that was all there was to it. More so after dad kidnapped me – and it all seemed that he was the odd-person out.

Long before Phina was born, dad decided he would join the military and it was down to Manchester we moved from Leeds. Three years later, he got his first overseas posting. To Padua. That meant that he was overseas more times than he was in England. Mom and I stayed back in Manchester. It about the time that mom had started building a career in advertising, and she didn’t want to lose the little edge she had got. Dad agreed it was best we didn’t come with him; he was considering my education. Besides, he spent a mere eleven months at Padua, and then five concurrent years travelling across African countries – Sudan, Liberia, Mozambique, Sao Tome and Principle, and South Africa. Somewhere between him zigzagging through Mozambique, South Africa and Manchester, mom found out she was pregnant. And that was when things went haywire. It was the longest he ever stayed away from home. He wasn’t even there when Phina was born, although he had written to promise me he would. He said it was because he couldn’t get away from work, which was rather strange because what could he have been doing for a whole ten months he couldn’t spare a week to come see us. What was stranger was that mom didn’t seem to mind. She simply carried as though it was the most natural thing to happen.

That was the first time I remember being crazy afraid that my parents would break up like Mr. and Mrs. Kane did. They only lived three blocks from us, and you wouldn’t have known anything was wrong until Mr. Kane moved out. But then dad eventually came back, and I stopped worrying. Everything was right once again. He even started talking about leaving the army altogether if they couldn’t get him stationed somewhere nearer home. They did – to Hereford, which was still a distance from Manchester but infinitely closer than Africa had been. Dad talked often about how he was working on being transferred back to Manchester; otherwise we could be looking to move to Hereford the next time he gets promoted.

When he did get promoted, he was however moved even farther away to Penzance. But mom decided we wouldn’t be going with him. Not only that, she wanted a divorce. I heard her ask for it. They were arguing – they had been doing so for the past three weeks. It was one of those things one didn’t get used to. Each time they raised their voice, it was like they were calling out to me to come listen to them. Phina wasn’t two by then, so she didn’t care as long as they didn’t disrupt her play. She would go right on beheading her dolls, noticing neither the noise nor me eavesdropping at the stairs. At nine years old and counting, I knew a little about divorce, enough to know it wasn’t something one was indifferent to. I told mom I wouldn’t mind going to school at Penzance, but she wasn’t having it. Her mind was made up. It wasn’t just about her job, she said. The marriage hadn’t brought to her any of her expectations, she claimed, so why stretch it any further.

I think mom filing for divorce affected dad’s work. That was my explanation to him, eight months after he had moved to Penzance, quitting the military, moving back to Manchester and living at the other end of the city. Even though their divorce had been finalised, I was hoping he had done all those because he was making the effort to get back together with mom. That would have been difficult to pull off. Mom had began dating a Mr. Adrian Chez the instant dad got served the papers, and was now hinting that we could be moving in with him in no distance future. I told dad that, when he called in the evening to speak to me. Mom was having one of her sleep-overs at Adrian’s; Phina and I were left with our babysitter. On a good day, I wasn’t a telltale, but Phina was being a pain in the butt, and Shania was letting her by not doing anything about it. I thought by telling dad about Adrian he would understand why I was irritable. Then I made him swear that he wouldn’t ask mom about it. He broke his word. I know this because the very next morning after we spoke, he was at our doorstep screaming obscenities with mom. That was only the beginning.

There was a lot of bad blood between mom and dad, and – surprise, surprise – Adrian. I gathered from mom’s phone conversation with her mates that dad would oft go to Adrian’s home to threaten him with body harm, and mom was worried for Adrian’s safety. Mom was also thinking of getting a court restraining order or have dad locked up. Rather, that was what her mates advised she should do. I didn’t tell dad this. For one thing, he wasn’t acting quite right with him cussing at mom everyday of his visitation. Even when the fracas died down and dad regained his cool, I still tiptoed around the house. The atmosphere was tense; mom and Adrian spoke in whispers, with mom scowling all the time. I lived everyday expecting another drama. Still, it was completely a shock when mom declared that I would be going to live with dad from thenceforth. She said she didn’t want me thinking that she was punishing me for telling on her. Yeah, right. A week later, it was dad telling me that Phina would not be coming with us to Nigeria because she was too young to be without her mother. Right. Mom had discarded me for betraying her; next, I was being abducted. That was the story of my life, and it was one I was ashamed to share with anyone. The same story Phina now said was merely the mirage.

We were in my bedroom, which I was more than willing to share with her. It was after a stiff dinner had with Nkolika. Dad couldn’t join us as he had called earlier to say he would be staying with grandma for the night. It was too late and unsafe for him to drive back to Owerri town, so Nkolika didn’t make a fuss. But we could tell she would prefer if dad had been there. She and I didn’t get along so well, and now she also had to deal with Phina. I guess it was a bit too much for her. But she handled it well, especially during dinner. What was uncomfortable was her kids gawking at Phina and I. They were probably making mental comparison between us. Phina humoured them by making conversations with them. I just silently ate my food, and pretended I wasn’t there. The moment I was done, I was racing back upstairs and dragging Phina with me. We had a lot to talk about. Right now though, I wished we didn’t. Not with the skeletons Phina was shoving out from our closet, and down my throat.

                 “Adrian is actually my natural dad,” said Phina.

                 I stared at her blankly, wondering when my hearing had gone bad. “Huh?”

                 She heaved a breath. “Here it goes: we don’t have the same father. Well, your father is your father. He’s just not mine. Adrian is.”

                 The only Adrian I knew that Phina may have known was mom’s boyfriend. It couldn’t be who Phina was talking about? “How come? When Adrian only came into the picture after the divorce?”

                 “Nope. Then again, if you are a woman cheating on your husband, would you be advertising the dude to your kids? Uh-uh. You keep it quiet. You know, so as not to arouse any suspicions.”

                 My mouth dropped. I tried to shake the words out of my head, but it kept re-echoing. “I think this is too much information for one night.”

                 But Phina wouldn’t let up. She yanked off the duvet I was about using to cover my ears. “I need you to hear me out, Shelby. This is why I am here.”

                 “I don’t want to,” protested I, grabbing back the duvet.

                 Phina still wouldn’t let me use it. “You have to! You need to. You need to fill in the gaps.”

                 “Fine. But, no details please.” The way it was looking, I’d better off not hearing those.

                 Now it was Phina’s turn to have her jaws on the floor. “Why? I don’t understand you.”

                 That’s because you don’t know me. I didn’t say that aloud to her. I just flipped my hand, telling her to talk away. “I am listening.”

                 “Thanks. Where was i? Okay, I get it. So, mom and Adrian met when your – em – dad was somewhere in Africa. They were first friends, mom said, then one thing led to the other and they started an affair. Norbert – sorry, your dad. Hold on, hope you don’t mind if I call him Norbert. It sounds funny to refer him as “your dad” when you’d been seeing him as my dad all this while.”

                 “Norbert is fine,” I mumbled, still dazed to learn that mom had been unfaithful. I always saw her as the victim: that dad was to blame.

                 “Okay then. So, mom said Norbert was gone all the time and dad was good to her. She hadn’t counted on the affair happening. But when it did, it felt right and she decided to just roll with it. Until I came along, and the stakes went way up. Mom said she didn’t know whose I was, whether it was Norbert’s or dad’s. That was when she confessed to Norbert her dirty secrets. Naturally, he was mad and didn’t want to set eyes on her ever. I mean, how would you feel if you discovered that not only had your wife been cheating, she could also be pregnant for the dude she’d been getting her groove on with? And when I was born, there was no doubt about it that I was my dad’s. I’m surprised Norbert didn’t pull an OJ-Simpson on mom for that. Folks have killed for much less.”

                 “But dad forgave her, right? Why?” I interjected, maddened.

                 “Because once upon a time, Norbert too fooled around and had a baby by this indiscretion. The thing is mom is not “your mom”. I mean, she is listed as your birth mother, but she really isn’t. Your mom’s name is Edla. She is Swedish, and that’s all mom would tell me about her. She did say that she and Norbert were already a couple at the time he found out that he’d be a father. Your mom wasn’t going to keep you. I don’t know why. Mom didn’t say. Actually, she disliked talking about Edla. I guess to her she was the like “that tramp who almost broke her relationship”. All she said was that she couldn’t bear to have Norbert raise you all by himself. Especially since Edla dropped out of their lives after you were born. You were her daughter.”

                 “I doubt mom and Norbert divorced because mom cheated. They divorced because mom continued to cheat. Mom said when she and Norbert reconciled, he asked her never to see my dad. Mom agreed to that, but the moment Norbert’s back was turned, she and dad were back together. They carried on with the affair for the next two years until dad started feeling he deserved more than playing the other man. He wanted us all to be one happy family. Mom was having second thought about her marriage. And to crown it all, Norbert was going off to Penzance. It was all a perfect timing for mom to seek her freedom. The plan had been to wait for a decent time to pass by before mom and dad could get married. Then, you blew the lid on their plan and all hell was let loose.

                 “Norbert was raising a lot of hell. Dad, on the other hand, wasn’t backing down at insisting he wanted us all together. It looked like Norbert didn’t care one way or the other who mom was with so long as she didn’t take you with her. You were the bone of contention. After a lot of back and forth drama, they came to a plan B: each man should have their own child. It looked like the most reasonable solution, to let go of you and put an end to all the brouhaha. Then when Norbert said he was relocating finally to Nigeria, well mom felt a bit relieved. She was all ready to rewrite her history to scrape Norbert from it.”

This time, I am very certain I’ve heard enough. Thank you very much, Phina. I could feel the beginning of a mighty quiver building up in me. Honestly, if Phina didn’t zip it, I was going to scream so loud she’d be deaf in an instant.

                 “Can we have a change of subject, please?” I pleaded with her, as I fought to control myself.

                 “You’re clearly into sweeping stuff under the carpet, and it sucks,” countered Phina.

                 ‘What nonsense was this girl saying?’ I nearly blurted out. It wasn’t about sweeping nothing under anything. Considering the grave news she was so intent on passing on, did she expect no reaction?

                 But Phina was so busy being upset at me to appreciate my open-mouthed astonishment. “There’s still a lot you need to know, and suddenly you don’t want to hear anymore? Ain’t you even curious? I mean, fifteen years you don’t hear jack from us and I show up? Doesn’t it make you wonder? I mean, I didn’t even know you. Mom didn’t talk about you, not to my hearing at least. I had faint memories of you, I had no pictures. As it turned, mom took all of them and hid. Do you still not want to know how come I’m here? That I know you? And I found you?”

I could only stare at her, perplexed that she should be ticked off. Was it that she was too young to grasp certain sensitivities? The reunion wasn’t turning out how I envisaged it, I must admit.

                  “I’m sorry,” I don’t quite know why I was apologizing. “Please, continue.”

                  “I forgot what I was saying. Oh, I remember. Let’s get something straight, mom loves you. But, this is life. I mean, you get handed series of events that demand you make real quick decisions about them, you know every choice you make has consequences you’d have to in time defend. I mean, I probably haven’t been put in many of those circumstances. Still, the bits I have help me want to understand with her. She was starting a new life; she was pregnant and very excited about it. Then she miscarries after you guys were gone. Years down the line, she and dad separate, grand mom dies and she wishes she had done differently. That’s when she hires Carter to find you or Norbert. It took more than a year, Shelby. More than a year of her worrying that God was punishing her for giving you up. But then you are located, and she couldn’t bring herself to come. I’m the icebreaker, and the bearer of her confession. Okay, I’m done. You are now free to tear out your hair and vent all your anger.”

But I didn’t do that. I just sighed, hugged my pillow and longed for sleep. It was thundering and lightening outside, but the cool breeze that seeped from the windows promised serenity if only I would close my eyes and snuggle under the duvet. Electricity was out – the generator didn’t get used on nights such as this – my fluffy bed was warm, and the scented candles cast dancing shadows on the wall that made the room mystical. If only Phina had shut up, it would have made for a perfect homecoming.

                  “You are in shock?” Phina asked, grimacing. I shrugged, tired from all the emotions whirling through me. “It is expected. So, are you going to confirm all these from Norbert?”

                  I shook my head. “No need to. He has his secrets, and now I have mine.”

                  “It doesn’t sound like you folks are close anymore. Mom said you were “Daddy”s Girl’.”

                  “Nah. Being mom and dad must have overwhelmed him so much, he choose to be “master” instead. His number one mission the second we hit Nigerian soil was the re-branding us both. We were to blend in with everybody else, to speak Igbo, to be Igbo. No more Englishness!”

                  “Was it awful?” Phina had a look of horror, exaggerated by the darkness contouring the sides of her face. The image made me grin.

                  “Awful doesn’t begin to describe it, dear,” I mumbled, deep in thoughts I couldn’t voice out.

Dad had changed our names once we set house in Owerri. I became Trinity Anele, and he Chimaobi Anele. It was all so fishy. I believe I was kidnapped. Phina wouldn’t have an inkling how that felt, if it knocked her right in the face. I was miserable. For a whole year I was ill. It was like a system shut down, and it hasn’t got back to full operation even now. I think I am scared for life. Whatever Phina’s mission was, with the new information she so enthusiastically dished out, it wasn’t making things better. If anything, I feel totally lost.”