Chapter 8: Bad Market

Last last, Ireti no drink my pepper soup. He no come office again that afternoon. Phone no dey go. And Ireti mama call me go old house.

Her voice for phone sharp, no room for question: "Amaka, abeg come drop soup for here. Your husband need am before him travel."

As I enter, Ireti mama point my flask: "Pour wetin dey inside, put my soup, carry go give Ireti. I make soup for am, I call am say make he come chop, but he talk say he get flight abroad this night. Hurry go now, make he fit drink am before he go."

Rain dey fall heavy. From company reach old house na two hours, even if I rush, I no sure say I go make am. But I know say Ireti mama no like me, she dey look down on me. If I stay, she go just use me talk anyhow. So I no argue.

I wrap my scarf tight, gather my flask, dey ready to go, but her words dey follow me like juju for bush road.

Ireti mama just rush push me out. As I dey change shoe for door, I hear am tell maid: "She don finally go. I don dey watch Ireti, I know say he like that small assistant. Na only guilt dey hold am for that bad luck girl. Now the assistant dey hospital, na opportunity. I sure say Ireti dey with the assistant now. If that jinx go, she fit catch them. I want make she see say for this world, love na the hardest to control. Now wey even her only confidence, love, don spoil, make we see if she go divorce."

She mutter again: 'Na she carry bad market come this family, God forbid.'

The word "jinx" hit me like stone. Na so people really dey see me? My hands cold as I hold door handle, try no let tears show.

I stand for door with flask, shock.

I no remember how I enter car, how I reach express. Till one oncoming car blind me with headlight, I dodge truck, my car tumble enter bush.

Na tree stop my car halfway for hill, one branch tear my shoulder. The pain clear my head.

I remember Kunle talk, Ireti mama talk, I just lose will to live. I be load. My only confidence don finish. Maybe to die like this better. Na wetin I always dey wish for.

But one voice just dey my ear, dey call my name.

Amaka.

Amaka.

Too noisy. But e be like say the person really care. She no want make I die.

The voice dey rise and fall, like prayer for early morning devotion.

Amaka.

Amaka.

I sigh, slowly open eyes, try call 112. But blood don too go, my head dey fog, I no even know where I dey, no fit describe location. The emergency operator just dey para.

I try describe road: "Madam, na under bridge near big billboard, after petrol station—" but na so my voice just fade.

Forget am.

I just hang up, call Ireti. But till the call end by itself, he no pick. My phone na only three bar battery remain. Rain still dey, phone fit die anytime. My mind dey fade.

I call again, but my mind travel go Ireti office. The office empty. But sound dey from oga’s rest room. I just open the door. Wetin I see just freeze me.

I always think say nobody fit enter between me and Ireti. Not even Zainab. I even try deceive myself, follow Kunle talk say nothing dey between them.

But now, I dey watch as Ireti and Zainab dey hold hand, dey kiss, dey roll. For bedside, gold circle pack dey open. His phone dey under bed, dey vibrate, my name "Amaka" dey show. Till the screen off.

"Haha..." I cover my face, laugh. See as I fool myself.

My phone don die. I must don die like this. I use my life bet for the person wey close to me pass, Ireti, and still lose. Him and Zainab finally cross the line.

Just like for our anniversary, between me and Zainab, he pick Zainab. Last time, she sick, he pick her. This time, na my life and death, he still pick her. He choose to dey enjoy with Zainab for bed, ignore my call for help.

Now, I don die. He free. I no be him load again. But even for death, why my heart still dey pain like say dem cut am with knife?

One breeze from window scatter desk lamp. The lamp off as e fall, for darkness, their noise loud pass.

The rain and thunder dey mix, as if the whole world dey join my cry. Na only me and my pain dey there, no help, no rescue.

Luckily, I return to my body. Alone, for bush, rain dey beat me. Darkness surround, I look up, clouds thick, I close eyes.

Maybe to die alone, quietly, no bad. I no be anybody load again.

The bush dey cold, rain dey cut my skin, but my mind dey float, like say my spirit dey free from pain.

"Amaka?"

Voice still dey call me. But I no get strength answer.

The rain dey soak my hair, my dress, but my ear still dey catch faint call—na maybe last hope.

"Amaka?"

The person no wan give up, still dey call me. But I fit feel my soul dey scatter. My last thought—if I no sick, if I let go of Ireti and myself, how my life go be?

Last last, for this bush, I just vanish inside cold wind and rain.