All language subtitles for Dérè An African Tale.S01E02_track4_[eng]

It's been a while, Mum.

I'm sorry.
I know you're not here physically,

but it helps to have somewhere to go
when I want to talk to you.

For the award of Bachelor of Arts...

-I have a gift for you.
-...Law and International Relations--

-They gave me a first class with honors.

Mum, it was-- It was crazy.

They gave me a special prize,
a commendation from the vice chancellor,

and they offered me a scholarship
to go back and do my master's.

It was such a great ceremony, Mum,
and Dad was so proud.

You could see he was trying to hide
that he was sad, but

I could see it.

It was difficult not having you there.

So I got my friend Terence to Photoshop
you into my graduation picture.

I know you were there in spirit, but

I wanted you there physically, beside me.

I've been trying to keep my promise
to write,

but this year has been... Yeah.

Besides, I have to finish my dissertation.

Not that I'm making excuses,
because I'm not.

It's just...

Yeah.

The tree is looking good.

Something living to take care of the dead.
Right?

Mum.

I miss you so much it hurts.

Life goes on around us,

but it's like we're frozen in time,
Dad and I.

And then she comes-- Mrs. Adami.

And for a moment, life returns,

and he smiles.

I'm alone, Mum.

My life is in the UK.

I'm lonely here.
I don't know what to do.

They say that
our loved ones have not really died.

They have just stepped into another room.

-Good morning, ma.
-Good morning. I'm sorry to startle you.

-No, it's all right.
-My name is Faith.

My husband is buried over there.

-Ah. Your mother?
-Yes, ma.

Oh. It must be difficult.

Ah, what a lovely picture.
Is that your graduation?

-Yes.
-Oh.

My mum wasn't there,
so I had her picture added.

Ooh, very clever. I wouldn't have known
if you hadn't told me.

And she looks so proud of you.

-My dad said she was.
-Mmm. And she is.

He says she brags about me
everywhere she goes.

-And you laughed a lot.
-Oh, yes.

She was very funny.
She used to tease my dad

and tell me all the stories of them
when they were young, and...

It's not fair.

Our lives were just beginning.

-Oh, I'm sorry.
-Oh...

Mmm!

That smoothie looks delicious.

It is.

Mr. Fabrice, our cook, makes it.
It's his specialty.

Mmm.

Oh, it's very peaceful here.

My husband is buried over there.

He's been dead for 20 years now,

and I come and visit him twice a week.

I have a plot right next to him.

He doesn't like me when I don't visit.
He doesn't like to be alone.

-Do you have any children, ma?
-Oh, yes. And grandchildren.

-Ah.
-But they're all over the world now--

America, Canada, Australia, Malaysia.

Sometimes I think I must've been
a bad mother,

or else why else would they be scattered
all over the world?

-Oh, I don't think you're a bad mother.
-Ah, but how would you know?

I don't know, but you're easy to talk to,
and you're a good listener.

-Ah, thank you.
-No, it's true, ma.

You're a good and kind person.

-Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings.
-Sorry?

Never mind.
Uh, do you have any brothers or sisters?

-No, no, no. I'm an only child.
-Oh.

My mum and dad tried for a long time
to have children,

and just when they were about to give up,
they had me.

My mum believes-- believed--

She believed I was a miracle.

After me,
they couldn't have any more children.

Oh. I was an only child.

Not that I minded. They spoiled me rotten.

-Did they spoil you rotten?
-I don't know.

-I know they loved me a lot.
-Mm, they spoiled me rotten.

I went to the best schools
both here and abroad.

Ah, holidays every year,
clothes, shoes, everything I wanted.

Then I guess I may be spoiled too.

There's nothing wrong with that as long
as you don't let it get to your head.

You didn't let it get to your head,
did you?

No, ma. At least, I don't think so.

I don't think so too.
You're beautiful both inside and outside.

Thank you, ma.

I wish I had brothers and sisters though.

Mm. Yes, me too.

It helps with the loneliness.

I don't think anyone should be alone.

-Hello, Dere.
-Hi, Dad.

Ooh. You're still at that, yeah?

Who would've thought
that a book of short stories

would be so hard to write?

That, my dear,
that is the price of greatness.

-Welcome, sir.
-Ah. Fabrice, how are you?

-Fine, sir.
-Good, good.

What do I get you, sir?

So, what do we have?

Mrs. Adami sent her driver
with some food this morning.

Again?

Oh, don't worry, Fabrice.
No one can take your place, yeah?

Thank you, sir.

I prepared some dodo
and a whole grilled fish.

-Mmm!

That sounds nice, yeah?

But, um, why don't you warm
some of the pepper soup

Mrs. Adami sent yesterday,
you know, for starters or...

You know,
so we mustn't waste good food, yeah?

No, sir. Yes, sir.

Ah. Thank you.

So, Dere,
what do you plan to do with your week?

More of the same. Signing up for NYSC.

You know, I've been thinking, um,
is that what you really want to do?

You still have your master's scholarship
to pursue.

But you're not even considering that.

No, I have. Just not now.

-I want to stay in Nigeria for a while.
-And do what? Hmm?

You have no friends in Nigeria,
no social life.

Well, Dad, I've made it a new challenge
to find some friends.

I'll be fine, Dad. Okay?

It's just that I don't want you to put
your life on hold on my account.

What are you talking about?

I'm a big boy, you know.
I can take care of myself.

I just want to be in Nigeria for a while
with my dad.

-Is that okay?
-It's okay.

It's just that, um, you're young,
and you need to find a social life.

You know, get new friends.

I'll be serving soon, Dad,
and I'll make loads of new friends then.

Besides, I've been thinking about
working with the less privileged.

-Doing what?
-I don't know.

Something to do with youth development
or youth empowerment.

Something along those lines.

There are a couple of good NGOs around.

I could secure a place for you
for your service.

Okay.
Well, it's just a thought at the moment.

Whatever you decide.

You know, we should go out,
like we used to.

That was before Mum died.

Yeah.

Oh. I'm sorry, Dad.

There's no need to apologize, you know.

I miss her every single day.

I know.

And I know you miss her as well, yeah?

But you don't have to be strong for me.

I'm not.

No, I mean, whatever the deal was
with your mum,

you should just let it go.

I don't know what you're talking about,
Dad.

Of course you know what I'm talking about.
Yeah, you do.

Promise...

you'll take care of him for me.

Mum, I can't! I can't!

He's not as strong as you, Dere.

Promise me.

Promise me.

I promise.

Are you listening to me?

What? Oh, yes.

Are you all right?

I can't please you, Dad.
You say, "Come home, Dere.

-Your life is here, your family is here."
-I know.

You say, "Come and do your NYSC.
I'll even fix where you serve,"

though that kind of defeats the purpose
anyway, but I still--

All right. Fine, fine.

Sir.

Mmm.

Dere, please eat something.

I'll eat some of the dodo and grilled fish
when Dad's eating.

You know, I'm taking you out for dinner.

-You're traveling tomorrow, Dad.
-So we'll do it tonight.

-Dad--
-No discussions here.

I want to see if I can resurrect some
of that sense of humor you used to have.

My sense of humor
doesn't need resurrecting.

It does.

-Ah!
-Yeah.

-It doesn't.
-It does.

Oh. I heard you were a sweet-talker.

Is that the best you've got,
Mr. Mofe Clark?

Firstly,
I suggest you get rid of the dog tags.

I know you weren't part of the army.

And secondly,
get rid of the pretentious swag.

It pays to be yourself.

-Hello?
-Hello, darling. How are you?

I'm buzzing, Dad. What's the plan?

I, um-- Uh, I-I--

Th-There just might be a slight hitch.

Oh.

I think I just--
It seems I double-booked or something.

No. I have a headache anyway,
so I wouldn't have been able to make it.

Dere--

Dere, listen to me. I'm so sorry.

-Yeah?
-No, it's fine.

-Sorry.
-No, no. You have fun, Dad.

Okay. Bye.

Mm!

It's all a matter of, um, priorities.

Abi?

Otunba.

Excuse me.

-Is this seat taken?
-No.

-May I?
-It's a free country.

Indeed it is.

-Are you waiting for someone?
-No.

Oh. You're just people-watching.

You'd be surprised what you can learn
about people by simply watching them.

Really?

How about I buy you a drink, and then
you tutor me all about people-watching?

-Are you sure you want to do this?
-Pretty much.

-You see I still have a drink, right?
-Yeah, and another one wouldn't hurt.

Um, could I have another one of these
for the lady?

And some peppered meat?

So, see anything interesting?

This is a transaction, right?

-What do you mean?
-You've bought me an unsolicited drink,

which, if I accept,
implies that preliminary talks are agreed.

-Preliminary talks?
-Yes. Small talk.

You ask me my name, what I do,
where I live,

you discreetly try to check out
my economic status,

and then, if you've got a really good eye,

you can tell
if I'm wearing designer labels or not.

You're good.

But you're wrong.
See, this... is not a transaction.

It's an... exploration.

Thanks.

Look, I'm just a young guy who's

drawn to young, attractive women.

If there's something to explore, yeah.
But if there isn't...

You see that guy over there,
the one with the skimpily dressed babe?

She has something he wants,
and he will gladly pay for it

and then move on
to the next skimpily dressed babe.

-Yeah, but I'm not that guy.
-No, you're worse.

-What?
-You're the guy

that brought that beautiful woman
to this bar,

dumped her,
and is trying to pick up another one.

Wait, Um, look, I can explain. It's--

Why? You don't even know my name.

No, but, um, I-- But--

Excuse me.

What are you looking at?

What are you looking at?

So I'm bracing myself
for the next few weeks

at the National Youth Service Corps camp.

I don't think I'm going to get to see Dad
before I go, which is a shame.

I haven't seen much of him lately.

He thinks we're ganging up on him,
which technically we are, but...

-What beautiful flowers.

Aunty Faith.

Oh, I'm sorry. I have to stop doing that.

-It's like you appear out of nowhere.
-Oh!

My late husband used to complain
about that a lot.

He said that I used to frighten
the life out of him. Oh!

Oh, but I didn't have anything to do
with his death. At least, not knowingly.

Well, we are in a graveyard, and you know
what people fear about graveyards.

Mm. Everybody wants to go to heaven,
and nobody wants to die.

-A Mr. Tosh said that.
-Mmm.

I can see why the final resting place
would inspire fear in people.

Superstitious nonsense.

My husband was superstitious.
Oh! It ruled his life.

Your problem is that
you've been watching too many movies.

-Uh--

Well, my mother did say
that I have a very active imagination.

Mothers know about these things.

Yes, they do.

Is that why you've been doing
all this writing?

How do you know about that?

You shouldn't throw away
such beautiful words.

Uh, you must forgive
an old woman's nosiness.

You threw them away, and I saved them.

Why? It isn't any good.

-But how do you know that?
-I beg your pardon.

You say that this,
that it's not very good.

Yes, it's just not.

But how do you know that? Your mother
thought they were worth keeping.

Yeah, but she's not here.

I'm sorry, ma.

But how did you know that?

-It's on one of those pages.
-Oh!

My dad always said that my mum was the
self-proclaimed president of my fan club.

Mm, yes. And you made her a promise.

Yes, but she was my inspiration.

"Was"?

You think just because you can't see her,
that she's no longer here?

Loving you, guiding you, encouraging you?

Yes, but she's dead.
I believe in life after death, but...

Oh, you are a puzzle, um...

-Dere.
-Oh.

-It's short for Cinderella.

People usually laugh
when I tell them that's my full name.

Oh, why? I think it's a beautiful name.

It represents one of the most
enduring love stories of all time.

I should know.

I used to be an English literature teacher
many years ago.

-Really?
-Yes.

Why am I a puzzle?

Because for someone
who has such a creative imagination,

you're quite skeptical.

-Really?
-Mm.

Well, maybe it's my legal training.

I'm caught in between the imaginary
and the rigidly factual.

Ah, maybe that's it.

Ah, but, uh...

"There are more things in heaven
and earth, my dear Horatio,

than you have dreamt of
in your philosophy."

-Sounds familiar.
-Shakespeare.

-Ah.
-Hamlet's response

to his friend Horatio's reaction
to seeing a ghost.

And he's right.

There's more to life than meets the eyes.

Uncover your eyes, Dere,

and you will witness such amazing wonders.

Hey, Auntie Dere!

Tawa!

-Take it easy. Take it easy.
-Welcome!

I'm happy to see you too.

-Auntie Dere! Oh!
-How are you?

I'm fine.

I'm happy to be home.

And how do you explain this?

Look, I'm telling you, Dad,
none of these things are true.

Mofe, what is true?

What is false?

Do you think people really care
about all of that?

Sir, most of these girls
are nothing but gold-diggers.

Oh, is it not my own son
that announces to the whole world

that there is gold here to dig?

-But, Dad--
-Do-Do-- Do you--

Do you not know
the meaning of "discretion"?

Huh?

I'm telling you, Dad,
this pregnancy is not mine.

Who cares?

Who cares?

Even your mum has threatened to receive
any pregnancy delivered to our door.

Yes. Yes, since you are determined--
you are determined not to get married.

But, Dad, I'm looking.

I'm looking.

You see all I have to deal with?

Sir. Chief.

Most of these girls of nowadays
are nothing compared to girls of before.

They just care about one thing,
and they will do anything to get it.

Is it not you guys that want to do things
the oyinbo way?

Eh?

I have told you, Mofe,
let me get you a wife.

Let me get you a wife.

Chief Lawana's daughter
just returned from Germany.

Yes, okay.
She's not so beautiful. So what?

I'm sorry, Dad.

But she's cross-eyed.

Eh? When she's looking at you like this...

one of her eyes is staring in the sky.

I did not bring you up to see beauty
only in the skin.

Oh. Then you should have not married Mum.

That is not the point!

That is not the only point.
You see what we're saying?

I say one thing,
he's saying another thing.

No, but, Dad, it was just a comment
about your good taste.

Uh, yeah, well, you see,
your mother and I...

we were betrothed to each other
when we were very young.

Even at that,

you could see that she would grow up
to become a beauty.

All the boys in the village
were always running after her,

like-like puppies.

Lovesick puppies.

Yeah, but that's not the point!

Mofe, all your Maradona tactics
will not work.

You hear? They will not work.

Okay. I'll tell you what, Dad.

Hmm?

Find me a potential bride.

Someone as beautiful and principled
as Mum.

I will consider it carefully and then I'll
choose one of them to settle down with.

What was that you said?

-Chief, he was trying to say--
-I heard what he said!

Sorry-- Sorry, sir.

Are you serious about that?

But, Dad, like Mum--
with beauty and character.

Then we have a deal.

-You heard what he said.
-Yes, sir.

-You heard what he said!
-Yes, sir.

All right.

Can I, um...

Can I have that in writing?

-Dad.
-Hmm?

You know,
if not for the bond of love between us,

I'd have taken offense to this suggestion.

Eh?

It's fine. I'll just let my actions
speak for themselves.

In that case, the problem is solved.

Um, your mother and I
will just go to work immediately.

Okay?

So continue with your work.
Don't let me take any more of your time.

-All right. Thank you.
-Ah, Chichi.

-Sir?
-You didn't have to bother. Eh?

-No problem, sir.
-Thank you.

All right. Goodbye, sir.

-Usman!
-Yes, sir.

Say hello to your father for me, okay?

Tell him I will see him on Thursday
at the club.

-All right.
-Hmm? Bye, everybody.

-All right, Dad.
-Okay, see you later.

Yeah, it was nice seeing you.

-Thanks for coming.
-Boss?

Just smile and wave, Chichi.

Smile and wave.

-Hi, boss.
-Hey.

-Usman is gone, I see.
-I think he likes you.

Well, what's not to like?

So, your flight to Amsterdam
is booked for Wednesday,

and they will send the chauffeur
to pick you up.

All right, that's good.

The board meeting has been postponed
till next month

to allow feedback
from the Amsterdam talks.

Okay.

And I've also booked a table for two
at the usual place,

and your penthouse-suite staff
are on standby.

-And now...

...that all of the boring stuff
is out of the way...

Ah. It's good to be home.

Where is everybody?

You're back!

Hello to you, Dere.

Why didn't you call?
Sule could have picked you up.

Oh, uh, Mrs. Adami was at the airport
to meet me, so we didn't need to--

-Oh. Good morning, ma.
-Ah, good morning, Dere. How are you?

I'm fine, ma. And you?

Oh, I'm fine. I can't complain.

How was camp?

-It was fine, ma.
-Ah, that's good.

You know, I have to ask,
because you people from London,

by the time a small breeze from Nigeria
just blow you like this,

you have malaria and typhoid.

No, ma.
I'm not a stranger to this environment.

-Eh! Yeah, well done.
-Thank you, ma.

Welcome, ma.

Eh!

-It took too long.
-I know.

But that's what happens sometimes,
you know? Unplanned.

-Ah.
-Breakfast?

Mr. Fabrice has been busy all morning
preparing your favorite.

There's no need. No need for that.
I have brought something for the traveler.

Because I'm sure by now you are tired
of eating the ham and cheese.

I told you. No need to worry.

-Thank you, Mrs. Adami.
-Ah, for what?

You can take it inside.
I will come and serve it myself.

So, um-- So, what did I miss?

Nothing much.

-You sure?
-Yeah.

Ah. The color was fuchsia pink.

Not pink-pink or-- Oh.

So I take it
that a difference was noticeable?

Ah, Otunba.

The difference is like day and night,
black-and-white.

The entire family had made their order.

So there was no going back at all.
They had paid deposits.

-Was that a problem?
-It was a big problem, Otunba.

Thank God
Amira and her friends stepped in.

Eh? It was because of them.
So her friend did this, um--

What is that thing they call it?
Uh, Twitter.

Went on Twitter and made it look like
fuchsia was trending

and was the color to have.

That all solved the problem-o.

-So they were lucky.
-Mm.

Otunba, luck had nothing to do with it.

Look, you have to go
and take your own luck.

-Eh?
-Mm.

Um, excuse me.

Let me go and check on this thing
I was trying to...

So, it was...

Otunba?

Otunba?

Otunba. Hey?

Ah, Otunba.

Otunba.

Um-- The time has gone. Maybe I should go.

It's getting late.

You haven't--
You haven't finished your drink yet.

No. You can finish it for both of us.
I will, um-- I--

-Mrs. Adami, wait.
-No. Don't escort me.

I will-- I--

Kemi, I'm--

I'm sorry I haven't been able
to come and see you since the burial.

I-I didn't want to.

I need you to understand why.

I didn't want to because...

I didn't want to come to terms with--

Kemi, I miss you.

Ah, Kemi...

Hello, my dear.

-Dad, you're embarrassing me.

Ah, ah, Dere.

There's nothing wrong with your father
being proud of you.

Full scholarship. Upkeep, everything.

Eh? Ah!

Ride on, my girl!

Well done.

And, you know, she's writing a book
of short stories as well.

-Eh?
-Yes!

Oga, such a talented young lady.

Thank you, ma. Dad, stop.

And her mother was her number one fan.

Ee-yah. Yeah.

Dere, Dere.

So, um, I don't know. What do you want?

Alligator.

-Do they eat that stuff?
-I don't know.

Otunba...

Um...

Otunba, we don't have to do this.

I know.

Um... Otunba, I--

"Femi." Please call me Femi.

Okay. Femi.

Uh, when was the last time you, um...

Um-- Um, not--

-Not since, um--
-That long?

-Yeah.
-Ah!

Ee-yah.

Um, you must have really loved her.

Please, let's not talk about it.

-Ah. Otu-- um, Femi--
-Yeah.

You know, um...

I-- I wouldn't have survived without you.

-Oh, of course you would have. Eh?
-Honestly.

-You're a strong man.
-No.

When Kemi died,

I-I wanted to die too.

Ah.

Dere was the only thing
that kept me alive.

Then... you came here.

-Yeah.
-Are you sure?

I am sure.

I'm so glad.

Ah, Otunba.

Kemi, I met someone.

Is it okay?

I mean, um...

I really like her.

She's, um...

She's a widow, just like me,

and, um, she has two grown-up children.

Kemi, you're not here.

You're not-- You're not here.

A-And it's Dere. You know.

She has been trying to be strong for me.
And I know you put her up to it.

Well, I think she needs a family,
and, uh, I need company.

I'm lonely.

Kemi, I need your permission
to marry Mrs. Adami.

No one's going to ever take your place,
Kemi.

I just--

I want another chance at life to be happy,
you know?

So please.

Please give me your permission, Kemi.

Please.

Yeah?

Kemi.

I will always love you, Kemi.

Here you go.

Thank you.

-You got it?
-Yeah.

Okay.

This is nice, Dad.

Thank you.

I'm sorry I haven't been more present
in your life.

-You lost your soul mate.
-And you too.

When are you bringing home
your own soul mate, Dere?

Too busy for that at the moment.

Oh, never.

Never, ever let work dominate you.

You know, I, um...

I wish--

I wish I'd taken Kemi out on more trips,
more cruises.

-You did your fair share.
-Yeah, but if I had known,

we would have had a vacation
once every month.

You know?

I think we just thought we would
grow old together or something.

-Dere--
-Hmm?

You need to find someone--

someone who will treat you
like Cinderella.

-Like a maid, you mean.
-No, darling. No, sweetie. No, darling.

-I'd like to ask you a question though.
-Mm-hmm?

You might have noticed
I've been seeing someone lately.

-You know.
-Everybody knows, Dad.

Good.

So, uh, what do you think?

It's not my place.

You do realize I still love your mum.
You know that, don't you?

I know, Dad.

It's just that I can--

I can taste food, you know?

The colors are beginning to replace
the gray.

Then I'm happy for you.

We, uh, are thinking of getting married.

Wow.

What?

No, no.

It just caught me by surprise. That's all.

So, what do you think then?

-It's not my place, Dad.
-But I'm asking you.

-Does she make you happy?
-Yeah. Yeah, she does.

Um, she has two older children,

Ndira and Amira,
and they're both dying to meet you.

Okay.

But, you know, they-they-they--

They live on their own now,
but they'll be here,

and, um, we can live together
as a big family.

Okay, Dad.

Really?

-Really?
-Congratulations, Dad. I'm happy for you.

Oh, baby. I was so worried.

I was worried what you'd think.
I wasn't sure you'd like--

You seem to forget you're an African man.
An Otunba. You don't need my permission.

Yeah, but I want you to be happy.

I will be.

You will be.

-Love you, kid.
-Love you too, Dad.

Um, how is your food?

Not bad.

-Your cook is from...
-Oh, he is from Republic of Benin.

Ah. Me, I like to cook my meals by myself.

Oh, really?

Please, bring some of that
stewed stockfish for oga.

Yes, madame.

-Thank you.
-Of course.

I'm full though.

Oh, no worry. Eat more.

Um, girls, how was your meal?

It was really nice. Thank you.

Very, very nice. Thank you.

Dere, you're being quiet.

Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize.

-"Dere" is a shortened form of...
-Cinderella.

She told us already.

I know.

I'm just being curious.

It's my grandmother's fault.

She liked the princess
at the end of the story.

Well, just look at everything
Cinderella had to go through

before she finally got there.

Uh, Dere, so you went to school in the UK?

Yes. I studied international--

Can you pass me some of that
peppered dodo and gizzard?

It was really nice.

And some of the stockfish as well.

Um...

let's go to the living room, okay?

Fabrice and Tawa
will bring us some dessert.

Okay?
Ndira, you can bring your food along here.

Otunba!

Eh?
You copied western culture to the letter.

Which one is dessert again?

Mummy, me, I like ice cream-o.

-Fabrice, thank you.
-Yes, sir.

Tawa, thank you.

Mmm. Peju.

-Otunba.
-What?

That's the first time
you called me by my name.

-Are you serious?
-Mm-hmm.

Well, I, um--

I want to ask you
one very important question.

Ah! Otunba, of course
you can ask me anything you want.

-Anything?
-Ask me any question, Femi.

You know, because I'm too African

to get on my knee and embarrass myself--

But, uh, I, um--

I want you to be my wife.

-Eh?
-Yes.

Oh! Otunba!

Will you marry me?

Of course!

Of course I will marry you.

John. John, bring us a bottle
of your finest champagne.

It's so beautiful.
Otunba, you outdid yourself.

Do you, Femi Kosoko,

take Peju Adami
to be your lawfully wedded wife?

Do you, Peju Adami,

take Femi Kosoko
to be your lawfully wedded husband?

Ah!

Ahem.

So, I will cooperate with anyone
that cooperates with me, hmm?

I will not tolerate any nonsense
from any servants.

So, um, uh-- Faboise, I believe--
What is your name?

-Fabrice, madame.
-Uh-huh. Fabrique.

You will take care of the, uh, shopping.

And I will arrange for the cooking.

You understand.

But, madame, that is what
I am employed to do-- a cooking man.

I understand.

Mm? But things are going to change.

Mm? We will discuss the details later.
But let me be clear-o.

I will be ruthless with any servant
that even attempts to challenge me.

-Eh? Do you understand?
-Yes, madame.

Yes, ma.

Look-o. Maybe I'm not clear.

Me, I am from Isale Eko, born and bred.

I didn't bring a box
from anywhere to Lagos.

Eh? Do you get it?

Go on, ask of me anywhere.

Eh?

I am not easy to chew.

Not even to swallow.

Eh? Do you understand me?
Am I making myself clear?

-Because I can't hear you.
-Yes, ma.

-Hi, Dere.
-Hi.

-Can I come in?
-Of course.

Oh, great.

I love your room.

It's so... you.

Thank you, I think.

Um, look, Dere,
I know it's all kind of weird, right?

This whole marriage thingy.

Well, it is quite new, but it just needs
to take some getting used to.

Listen, Dere,

I just wanted to say that
I'm glad you're my sister now.

I'm the big sister you never had.

Okay, listen,
I know your life was in the UK,

but you're here now, right?

-Yeah, you're right.
-Okay.

You know what? Amira and I will
make sure that you're settled in properly.

Okay.

Don't be afraid, Dere.

I'm not afraid.

Okay, maybe a little bit.

-Okay, um--

Come in.

There you are! I've been looking
everywhere for both of you.

I want to go the cinema tonight.

Would you like to come, Dere?

I'm not sure. What's showing?

It doesn't matter. We just flip a coin.
That's what Ndira and I do.

Oh, that's not a very smart way
to choose a movie.

Come on, Ndi. Live dangerously, Ndi.

It's not dangerous if the movie that gets
picked is for three- or four-year-olds.

-Okay, I'll come.
-Yes!

-But no coin-flipping.
-Ah, you're no fun.

Be ready for 7:00 anyways.

-Anyway, so--
-Aha!

Tell me, Dere, do you have a boyfriend?

Amira! Discretion!

She's our sister.
We're going to find out sooner or later.

-Right, Dere?
-Yeah, you're right.

-Don't encourage her.
-And, no, I don't have a boyfriend.

Oh! What a shame.

Don't worry. We're going to remedy that.
Right, Ndi?

Yes!

Dressed to stun tonight. Whoo!

Amira, what-- Oh, my goodness.

Dere, I am so sorry.
She's super impulsive. Amira!

You can't go barging in on other people
and looking through their belongings!

-That's rude!
-I was just looking for a dress to stun.

Ah.

Uh, Dere?

There are no dresses to stun in here.

Well, I-- I didn't really do
much dressing to stun in the UK.

Mm.

I'm really kind of
a "jeans and T-shirt" kind of girl.

No, no, no. That has to change.

-No wonder you don't have a boyfriend.
-Oh.

Anyways, you can borrow one of my outfits.

Ndira's a master at makeup.

That will make the boys turn and stare!

Mm-hmm.

-Huh?
-Uh, okay.

Settled, then. Come. Let me show you
what you're wearing tonight.

Um, Fabrique.

Fabrique!

Yes, madame.

Is it that you didn't hear me, or what?
I don't understand it.

I-I was answering you, madame.

Well, I didn't hear you.

Maybe I should go and install doorbells,
eh, in the house,

because I want to call
household servants, abi?

-I apologize, madame.
-Ah!

Um, oga will be late this evening,

so pick up his shirts
from the dry cleaners.

Yes, madame.

So I took the initiative
and went to her room.

Everything was neatly laid out
like she's a queen or something.

Tidy, neat, organized.

He loves his wife.

He really loves her.

He tries to hide it, but he loves her.

She's there everywhere I go in that house.
She's always there.

She hates us being there in her house
touching her things,

but she just sits there,
smiles sweetly and nicely.

And their daughter, Dere--

He still sees his wife in her.

I hate her.

-I hate her.
-I want her to suffer.

I want her nice, perfect wall
to crumble around her ears.

I want her to suffer the trauma
of-of hot pepper in her naked eyes.

I want to be there when it happens.

And I will be there,

enjoying every minute like it's a film.

I want her to know the true meaning
of pain and betrayal.