Chapter 2: River of Secrets

"You say dem get news about Ifeoma—where she dey?"

My throat dry. As we dey waka, I dey peep face, dey hope say e go talk true.

Obinna just look me one kind, then sigh, like say he dey vex.

He eye red, e resemble person wey no sleep. For daylight, his face dey look older than before, beard rough like say him forget him razor.

"You smell like alcohol. Ifeoma never even miss reach one week, you don dey behave like this? See as you never change cloth for days—everywhere just rough."

Na so shame carry me. The kain way he talk am, even old men for bus stop go look me twice. My slippers dey cut, my shirt get oil stain, na true.

One week ago suppose be our wedding, but Ifeoma just disappear, no leave any clue.

The thought still dey pain me. All the food wey we plan chop—rice, asun, even small suya—everything waste. People dey ask questions, nobody get answer.

I look myself. As I rush comot house, I no even change my slippers.

My leg dey dirty, as I waka sand dey follow me. I no fit even recognize myself for mirror.

"My mama find one person for village to do vision work. Dem talk say last place wey dem see Ifeoma na near water, so she send me make I check."

This one na the second prophet this week. Ifeoma mama believe say no matter the problem, if you find correct seer, solution go show. She fit call midnight prayer join.

Another round of spiritual seeking.

Last week, na one baba for Ajegunle. This week, na mama Ejima for Umuahia. The prayers no dey finish, and the money too dey go.

My fiancée mama dey good for every other thing—na only this her strong belief for all this prophet and prayer dey worry me. Since Ifeoma vanish, she don do vision work more than ten times, but nothing come out.

Sometimes, she go call me for midnight, dey talk say I must pour salt for my door, or burn white candle. E don tire me.

"But ‘near water’ too vague. Where we wan start find?" I dey try arrange my shirt make e neat small.

I try pull collar up, but the shirt stubborn. I brush hand for trouser, the sand still dey stick.

"If na so you dey drink every day, how you wan sabi where to look?"

Obinna voice cold, no sympathy. The kain words dey cut deep. E dey look me like say na me kill Ifeoma.

My heart cut like NEPA light for rainy season. Shame catch me. I just bow head, no fit look Obinna eye.

I shuffle foot, dey kick small stone. My eyes dey ground. Na only my shadow I fit look.

From how the car dey move, e be like say we dey go riverbank side.

He dey drive steady, window down. I fit smell water breeze and hear sound of old fisherman boat wey dey pass.

"The prophet talk say na southwest. I reason say the closest place wey dey southwest from your house na this river."

Obinna voice steady, but I see say his hand dey grip steering wheel tight.

"Ifeoma like to come here for walk before."

True talk. She dey say river dey calm her mind when life rough. Sometimes, she dey carry me come here to gist about future.

I remember the quarrel wey we get before she disappear.

We argue tire that night—na small thing start am, but old wound burst out. The next morning, her side for bed cold.

She want add one extra thing to the wedding, but I no want make everything too complicated. Na so all our old wahala burst out that day.

She dey chop groundnut, her hand dey shake as she talk. She dey cry, me dey vex. My papa always talk say make man no argue pass woman for house, but that night, I lose guard.

Ifeoma comot with tears, and me, I stubborn, I no follow am. But after whole night, she no come back.

I dey regret am till now. If I sabi say e go end like this, I for beg her that same night.

I no believe say just one quarrel fit make her miss our wedding.

She no be person wey dey run from problem. She go always call back, even if na voice note.

"We don reach."

Car stop. I look up, riverbank dey empty. Early morning sun dey shine on top water. Small breeze dey blow my face.

Goats dey bleat far for bush, and one old fisherman dey sing Igbo chorus for canoe. Obinna voice bring me back. I come down from car follow am.

I hold my slippers tight. Sand cold for foot. River get one kain quiet, but my heart dey noisy.

I look up—the riverbank just empty.

Fisherman boat dey far, but nobody dey this side of shore. Place quiet, only sound of water splash and bird cry.

"Make your mind strong. Ifeoma don miss for days. Hope no too much."

Obinna dey try warn me. If I break down here, who go carry me reach house?

I quickly understand wetin Obinna mean, I just dey look the river with fear.

Water dey deep. I dey imagine all the stories wey I hear as pikin—spirit people dey hide for river bottom.

"I hire salvage team. Dem go soon reach." Obinna dey look distance, eyes don red small.

I fit see say e dey fight tears. To hire salvage people, money no dey small. Na true brother him be.

"Honestly, I no too believe all this prophet talk. Na just try luck. Even if we no see anything, dem go say na wrong place we search. But since even police never see clue, make we just try their luck."

E get as e talk am—no hope, but no surrender. Na so people dey do for Nigeria, e no easy.

I no fit hold the pain again. I just run go centre of the river.

I remove slippers, feet enter cold water. I dey shout, chest dey pain me. I no fit hold tears—na real man dey cry for here.

"I no believe am! Ifeoma no fit just leave me like this!"

Voice crack, pass frog. People for other side dey look us, but I no send.

"Wetin you dey do?" Obinna rush follow me, grab me.

He strong, hold me for shoulder, like say he dey help drowning person. If not for am, I for fit jump inside water self.

He vex, but before he fit talk, phone ring for him pocket.

Obinna eyes narrow, he check phone, pick am. I dey shiver from head to toe.

Na the salvage team, dem dey wait for riverbank.

Dem dey talk fast, voice dey sharp—say dem ready to start work. Obinna tell dem make dem begin.

After the call, Obinna free my arm. "If you wan die, at least know why. These days you just dey run from everything, you no dey act like man at all."

Him words dey hard, but I sabi say e mean well. For Igbo culture, man no suppose show weakness, but this kain loss dey turn person to baby.

The words hit me like cold river water. I rush follow am, run go bank.

I wear slippers back, dey shake, but I follow am sharp. For this matter, I no fit waka alone.

Whether na fate or the prophet sabi work, the salvage team work day and night, dem really bring out one body from the river.

Dem dey serious, no time for joke. After hours, I see them drag something from water—my chest nearly stop.

I force myself look. As I see the face, I just breathe out.

One of the women for riverbank begin shout Jesus, cover face with wrapper. The body no be Ifeoma.

Na old man, beard white, skin shrivel. I almost kneel down for relief. Tears dey my face, but na joy join am.