Chapter 5: Femi Sani and Small Joys

Femi Sani na my therapy partner.

We meet for online support group. Him own wahala heavy, but e still dey find time reach out to people. Him word always dey calm me.

After three years of treatment, my wahala to talk don improve well.

From speech therapy for Federal Medical Centre, to prayer session for Redeemed church, I try everything. But Femi own, na talk wey reach heart.

Na only when I dey sad or dey fear, my voice dey miss.

E be like say sorrow dey lock my tongue. Femi dey always notice.

First two years after I marry Olawale, I almost cure finish.

I dey chop, dey talk small. Even Olawale dey happy. But as wahala enter, everything scatter again.

When I dey happy, get free time,

I go dey play piano, dey sing small hymn. Even neighbours dey hail me, "Ozioma, your voice dey sweet!"

I join support group for people wey get the same problem.

Online group, people from all over Nigeria. Some dey Jos, some dey PH. E make me realize say I no dey alone.

Dem pair me with Femi Sani.

Femi no dey talk plenty. But him text dey always make sense.

For two years, I think say na woman he be.

Na because of him avatar, pink bunny. If to say e be Nigeria, na sure die for man to use pink bunny. But I no suspect.

Him avatar na pink bunny, WhatsApp name "Angel."

The name dey soft. I dey always call am "sis." Femi no complain.

At first, "she" no too dey reply me.

I dey send text, e go take one day reply. But no wahala. People wey understand pain dey move different.

But people wey get the same wahala dey understand each other.

No need too much story. Even one emoji fit pass message.

People wey don suffer aphasia for years get deep wound for mind.

E dey show for body language, for silence. Sometimes, na just being present matter.

Dem fit no dey talk,

But dem dey listen. For group chat, na emoji wey dey reign. But the heart dey full.

but dem need person.

Human touch, even if na for phone. E dey save life.

I dey share my daily life with "her" steady.

From market run to cooking mishap, I dey send gist. E go reply with "chai" or "pele."

From text, to voice message.

The first voice note, e shock me. Femi voice deep, like bass for church choir.

From picture, to video.

Sometimes, I go send short video of me playing piano. Femi go reply with clapping emoji.

We talk sotey, we be like old padi.

People for group dey even ship us, call us "Ozi-Angel."

So, first time I call, hear say na man, shock nearly make my wahala start again.

My voice freeze. I no fit even talk "hello." E take me two days recover.

“So... sorry.”

My voice crack. I dey almost beg for nothing.

I hold phone, “Sorry to... disturb you for night...”

I dey whisper, afraid say I offend am. Femi just dey laugh small.

“No,” Femi Sani talk, “Na 9 p.m. here.”

Him voice calm, no stress. E dey talk like person wey understand say night fit mean different thing for different people.

He dey talk well.

E sure. Him Yoruba dey mix with small Hausa accent. I dey imagine how him face go be.

That na just my second call with am.

The first one, na text. The second, voice. I dey try adjust. Life dey funny.

After I know say na man, I try keep distance.

Na Naija we dey. Married woman no suppose dey close to man. I just bone. E pain me, but I do am.

That day just happen like that.

The world no dey ask permission. Things just happen, you go adjust.

I never reach out to am for almost one month.

I dey try keep my own wahala. But pain no dey let me rest.

Just as Olawale give me divorce paper, he ask me wetin I dey do.

Femi dey always check on me. I just dey look the paper, tears dey my eye.

My mind blank as I see "divorce agreement."

Na that blankness dey make person do things wey shock everybody. I no even know how to cry again.

I just reply: [Divorcing.]

No long talk, just the truth. Femi reply almost immediately.

After I sign, I hide outside Olawale office, dey shake.

The night breeze dey cold, but my hand still dey sweat. I dey hide for one small corner. I dey look stars, dey beg make e carry me go.

[Femi Sani, I think... I go soon get no home.]

The message weak. My eye dey blur. No papa, no mama, no brother, no small dog. No husband. Just me.

No papa, no mama, no brother, no small dog.

I dey remember everybody, the small dog wey dey always lick my leg. I dey alone.

Even Olawale dey go.

Na the last straw. The person wey suppose stay. E dey go. Pain no get expiry date.

Wetin I go do?

The question dey loud for my mind. Na who go carry me now?

I no expect say he go reply:

His answer quick. My eye wide.

[Then just marry me, you no fit?]

The message loud. For Naija, na joke. But for my mind, I see small light.

The noise inside dey loud.

From Olawale office, dem dey toast, dey yabb. E be like say I dey watch film for window.

“Abeg, Ozioma without Brother Wale no fit even talk. She fit collect divorce certificate?”

Dem dey doubt my courage. I dey hear as dem dey talk like say I be small pikin.

“Yes na, if she really go divorce, she go cry scatter Marriage Registry.”

Dem dey form expert for person life. Na so Naija people dey do.

“True?”

Olawale hiss.

E pain am. But him face no show. Na pride dey talk for am.

He throw him lighter for table. “Even if she cry like goat, she still be my Olawale goat.”

Everybody laugh. But inside me, tears dey drop.

“If I tell am go east, she go crawl go east, even if na to drag herself.”

Na me dem dey yab. My spirit dey shiver.

I just look the man wey don turn stranger, through door crack.

Olawale face no even look my side. I dey see him back, like person wey close shop.

[Okay.]

One word. But for me, na declaration. My own answer.

Sun dey burn my back, but inside, cold still dey.