In the morning, the sky was like a calm sea. Olanna told Odenigbo that he would not go to the directorate and that she would not teach; they would spend the d
ay in the bunker.
He laughed. “Don’t be silly.”
“Nobody will send their children to school,” she said.
“What will you do then?” His tone was as normal as his snoring throughout the night had been, while she lay awake, sweating, imagining the sound of bombing.
“I don’t know.”
He kissed her. “Just head for the bunker if the alarm goes off. Nothing will happen. I may be a little late if we go educating in Mbaise today.”
At first she was annoyed by his casualness and then she felt comforted by it. She believed his words, but only for as long as he was there. After he left, she felt vulnerable, exposed. She did not take a bath. She was afraid to go outside to the pit latrine. She was afraid to sit down because she might doze off and be unprepared when the siren went off. She drank cup after cup of water until her belly swelled up, yet she felt as if all the saliva had been sucked out of her mouth and she was about to choke on clumps of dry air.
“We are going to stay in the bunker today,” she told Ugwu.
“The bunker, mah?”
“Yes, the bunker. You heard me.”
“But we cannot just stay in the bunker, mah.”
“Did I speak with water in my mouth? I said we will stay in the bunker.”
Ugwu shrugged. “Yes, mah. Should I bring Baby’s food?”
She did not respond. She would slap him if he so much as smiled, because she could see the muted amusement on his face at the thought of taking a dish with Baby’s pap and crawling into a damp hole in the ground to spend the day.
“Get Baby ready,” she said, and turned the radio on.
“Yes, mah,” Ugwu said. “O nwere igwu. I found lice eggs in her hair this morning.”
“What?”
“Lice eggs. But there were only two and I did not find any others.”
“Lice? What are you saying? How can Baby have lice? I keep her clean. Baby! Baby!”
Olanna pulled Baby forward and began to loosen her braids and search through her thick hair. “It must be those dirty neighbors you play with, those dirty neighbors.” Her hands were shaking and she yanked at a tuft of hair to maintain her grip. Baby began to cry.
“Stay still!” Olanna said.
Baby wriggled free, ran to Ugwu, and stood there looking at Olanna with baffled eyes as if she no longer recognized her. From the radio, the Biafran national anthem burst out and filled the silence.
Land of the rising sun, we love and cherish,
Beloved homeland of our brave heroes;
We must defend our lives or we shall perish.
We shall protect our hearts from all our foes;
But if the price is death for all we hold dear,
Then let us die without a shred of fear…
They listened until it ended.