Chapter 1: Flooded Truths

In the third year of squeezing into a small rented flat with Ifeanyi, heavy rain flooded our place.

That rain no get joy at all—abeg, e be like say even the sky dey vex for us. The old zinc roof just dey leak everywhere, water dey find its way under door, parlour don turn to mini stream. I just dey look, even our only plastic chair don dey float small for corner. Smell of wet cement and that our foam mattress dey choke air, my chest just heavy like say wahala dey press am.

I leaned on his shoulder, feeling so down.

I no fit talk. Only my long sigh and the sound of rain dey fill the house. My face dey Ifeanyi shoulder, eyes red as if pepper enter am. The cold dey bite, but e no reach as my heart dey freeze.

He said he felt sorry, then turned around and donated a hundred million just like that, no stress.

No wahala at all, just sharp sharp bank alert—he just tap phone, bank alert land for TV. I look am, my heart cut. The same hand wey dey count coins for Indomie, now dey spray hundred million for people online. Sometimes, e be like say Ifeanyi get two face—one for me, another one for world.

A group of Abuja’s rich kids were joking,

Dem dey gather one side, dey sip cold Star, dey gist anyhow. Ifeanyi fit blend, but dem own gist dey smell money. Their laughter loud, like say dem no sabi wahala.

“So many fine babes dey chase you, but you still dey follow one broke girl.”

Dem dey clap back, eye dey shine, dey look Ifeanyi. Even dem know say he fit get any babe. Na my own dem dey see as jara, extra.

Ifeanyi narrowed his sharp, sly eyes and laughed softly.

He shake head, flash that small smile wey dey hide plenty. You go think say e gentle, but e mind sharp like razor. E show wicked dimple, dey shine teeth, as if e get answer wey nobody fit challenge.

“My babe dey hustle three jobs every day just to save for a ring. You think those other girls fit try am?”

He talk am like say na big achievement. For that moment, I for think say I be champion, but now e just sound like drama. Dem burst laugh, some clap hand, some dey tap shoe like say shock catch dem.

Someone suddenly added,

The air just shift, person wey never talk since burst out wahala, voice loud like generator.

“But what if she really propose? No be say she wan get engaged to the Okafor family?”

Everybody pause. Na so our gist dey always go—dem dey use my name catch cruise, as if to marry person wey get money na crime. My heart just dey beat, e be like judgement dey hang for my neck.

“Guy, abeg, you dey whine us? You fit carry that babe go house?”

Their tone don change, no be joke again. Na real question, dem dey wait make Ifeanyi show himself.

After a short silence, Ifeanyi’s voice turned firm.

The laugh for him face dry like harmattan breeze. E hard to answer, but when e talk, na that kind voice wey dey settle matter.

“Besides, Ngozi no go ever know. Not in this life.”

He just drop am like blade. You go think say e no care, but the way e lower voice, e get as e be. Outside, only street light dey shine, breeze dey blow small, but my inside cold pass everywhere.

He didn’t know I was just outside the door.

My hand dey grip door frame, body dey shake—not from rain but from wetin I hear. I no even know say na me dem dey table, dey weigh like market tomato. My belly, wahala dey boil.