Chapter 5: Lagos Road Wahala

Another year pass, one of our secondary school padi marry, invite us.

Time fly, wedding season again. Secondary school friend—dem still dey remember us, invite come. I no fit dodge this one.

Chuka get meeting that day, but as I insist, he still follow me go.

He try dodge am, say work dey, but I insist, voice strong, beg am join me. You know as woman dey do sometimes.

As I dey watch bride waka go meet her groom, my heart just dey pain me small-small.

As bride dey catwalk go altar, tears dey my eye. I dey imagine myself for that position. My mind dey run marathon.

So na so wedding be.

The colours, the music, the jollof aroma, everything dey blend. But my heart dey far, dey reason life.

When priest say make dem kiss, I look Chuka, he dey look me.

My eye search for his face. I dey look for sign—love, approval, anything. But Chuka own face tight, e just dey look back.

After the wedding party, we waka go house quietly.

Car ride home quiet like cemetery. No music, no gist, just car engine dey hum. My chest dey heavy, hands dey cold.

My phone vibrate.

Na message from home. I dey hope say na small joke, but...

Na my papa, dey ask if Chuka fit come house this weekend chop.

My papa na correct Naija man, if e invite you chop, na serious thing. E mean say e accept you. But Chuka...

I just show Chuka my phone, act like I no send, ask, "You free this weekend?"

I just lift phone, show am, voice cool like cucumber. I dey try soft pedal, but na test.

Chuka dey look side mirror traffic. "Wetin happen?"

He dey focus road, but eye dey dodge mine. His voice get one kind edge.

"My papa... say make you come chop."

I talk am slow, look face, wait reaction. My heart dey do "dun-dun-dun."

Half of him face wey I fit see just harden, then he say, "I dey travel this weekend."

His jaw tight, eyes straight. He no dey lie, but the thing pain me. Na like say wall dey between us.

But I press, "What of next weekend? Or upper weekend?"

I no gree, I press. If e dodge this one, e go explain next.

Chuka no answer.

He just dey mute, hands dey grip steering, face cold. The silence hot.

As we pass tunnel, streetlight fade.

The darkness join the mood for car. I dey look side mirror, dey reason life. Outside, I see hawkers dey run between cars, Lagos traffic horns dey blast everywhere. The noise and chaos just dey add pepper to my heart.

Inside darkness, I ask am, "Chuka, na me you no like or na my papa?"

My voice shake. I no fit hold am again, I need answer. This one pass small play.

I just pour everything: "Anytime my papa invite you, you go find excuse. My papa offend you?"

My voice dey loud, tears dey my eye. For Lagos road, I dey break down.

Chuka just pull me near, finally talk: "We go talk for house."

He use one hand drag me small, try calm me. His voice serious, no smile. For my mind, wahala dey.

But him coldness make me talk anyhow: "Chuka, you no get conscience? My papa treat you well!"

I no fit hold am. All the bottled frustration just pour. My voice loud, tears dey rush.

Car brake sharp.

He match brake, car stop, my chest hit seatbelt. My heart dey race.

Even with seatbelt, my body rush front.

The force carry me go. I hold dashboard. Na small thing remain, I for shout.

Chuka lean, hold my chin. I feel say I see disgust for him eye.

He pull my face, look deep into my eyes. Him eyes cold, one kind feeling dey there—anger, pain, disgust, I no know.

"Yes, I be poor student wey your family help."

His voice sharp. The words heavy, e dey come from place of pain. Na like say he dey confess secret wey dey burn am.

I no understand. "Chuka, why you dey always carry this poor student matter anytime we dey talk? I look you less? I hate you?"

I dey confuse. I dey try explain myself, but he no dey listen. My voice dey break.

Chuka release me, him eye just empty.

He free my chin, eyes hollow, like say all the hope don vanish.

Voice low. "But na wetin I be."

His words cold, final. No drama, just cold reality.

He remove hearing aid for right ear. "And I deaf join."

He remove am, hand shake small. The way he hold am, e pain me. I feel am deep for my bone. "Na so God create me—deaf, poor, and still dey try survive for this country."

I still dey shock as he start car again, drop only one sentence:

I dey mute, dey try process the whole thing. Tears just dey flow.

"I tell you since—we no match."

The words drop, like ice block for my chest. My hands dey shake, mouth dry. My dreams just scatter.

Yes.

Na now e clear. I just dey nod inside darkness. My pride don collapse.

When Chuka gree date me, he talk, "Even if I no ever love you?"

I remember that day, we sit for suya spot, he ask me. I think say na play, I just smile.

He leak am that day. I shock, but I just nod.

I no believe am, I think say na testing. I force smile, gree.

So he say, "Okay. Make we try."

That was his own version of love. I accept, think say e go change.

Yes.

Now I dey see say na my fault too. I gree for arrangement wey my heart no fit carry.

Na my fault.

If person dey pursue moon, moon no dey waka come meet am. E dey shine, but e far. My heart just dey break, tears dey soak face.

Moon no go ever waka come meet me.

My heart dey bleed. All my years, all my hope, everything dey hang. I dey wait for answer wey fit change my destiny, but Chuka mouth still dey tight like padlock.