Chapter 3: Ghana-Must-Go and Goodbye

3.

My stubbornness just die for that moment. I drop head. "Oh." Turn begin pack my load. "If una wan make I go, just talk. No need for all this acting." "I only like men, I no turn to woman." I say I go move out, but dem no pack. So all this na drama to pursue me? Sharp, fake people. Who really shameless and two-faced here, no be dem? As I dey think am, my packing rough. The small wooden horse wey always dey my desk fall comot from box, land for floor. "Crash." E scatter. Tega face change immediately. He slam phone for desk. "Wetin!" "Obiora, you dey craze? You wan die?" But for him eyes, I see small fear—like say he no really wan me go. The way he jump up, you go think say na sacred idol I break. Everybody eye dey on me. My hand dey shake as I bend pick the pieces, but I stop halfway, anger just dey boil. All these things—memories, gifts—wetin dem mean now?

4.

I no fit explain wetin I feel that time. I no be reckless person. If I no think say Tega different for me, if I no see small sign, I for no get mind confess. That wooden horse—na Tega carve am, sweat dey him face, but pride full him eye. He follow ex-girlfriend go crafts class, she beg am three times for the horse, cry, vex, threaten. Tega no gree. Girl begin cry, shout: "Today, choose—wooden horse or me!" Tega just laugh, put horse for box, block her there and then. He reach hostel, put am for my table, dey show: "Guy, I even dump babe for you." "How about you just be my babe instead?" No be first time Tega talk that one. Na him catchphrase. Roommates don used to am—and how e always put me first. Even by second semester, every girl dey quarrel am for me. Tega, campus sharp guy, stop to dey date, stay single for over half year. All the signs dey clear, the closeness enough to make me hope. But last last, I learn the hard way: everything just dey my head.

I dey replay every small joke, every push, every sly wink. My chest twist. Maybe na so people dey turn bitter—hope, disappointment, repeat, till you no sabi your own fault again. Maybe one day, I go laugh myself like Tega.

5.

"You better dey worship this horse o." "E cost me girlfriend." "If e get scratch, I go find you wahala." The day Tega give me the horse, him words still dey echo. I look the broken pieces, just laugh. "No be better so? Go save me stress for moving." "You..." Tega just dey look, shock. "You really wan move out?" Wetin? He think say I dey act like dem? Or say I like am reach to lose shame? He no see as e wicked? "Bang." Anger just rush me, I smash the mug Tega give me for floor. The loud crash sweet me small. I grab blade from table, sneer: "No need for you to disinfect. I go do am myself. I go clean everywhere well, make devil no fit enter again." The room freeze. The three of dem just dey watch as I, like person wey village pursue, destroy all wey join me and Tega two years. Clothes, shoes, basketball... Tega face dark. Suddenly he grip my wrist. "Stop am, Obiora." "Just pack your feelings, you fit stay for hostel." "No need to move." "Let’s just go back to before. Guy, no be so?"

My hand dey shake as I tear posters from wall, each one na memory. E be like to pour kerosene for house wey you build. I want make Tega feel am too—the burn, the loss. But him grip soft, like say hope still dey. My jaw strong, heart dey drum.

6.

I just find am funny. No need to move? So why all this disinfecting, form filling? I get am. Dem dey warn me: pack up those "disgusting" feelings for Tega sharp sharp. If not, dem no go ever accept me. "So I suppose thank una for your big kindness, for giving me chance to change my ways?" Tega frown, voice low: "Obiora." I hiss, eye am, continue pack. If you no fit accept, why pretend? Go back to before? How? Even if I fit, e fit? Can he pretend say nothing happen? He no see say liking men dey disgusting for him? I no get much, after breaking Tega things, I pack my load inside one Ghana-Must-Go. Zip am, stand, ready go. But my wrist dey hold. Tega, wey cold before, finally burst. He frown: "You sure? Once you move today, forget coming back." I look am, face blank, pull wrist. Voice calm: "I’m sure. I no dey come back." Prejudice be like thorn. Once e enter heart, no going back. Between me and Tega, we no fit pretend. But as I talk, Tega vex, bitter laugh, nod: "Fine, Obiora. You get mind."

The finality for him words hit me like slap. I see him jaw tight, eyes hard but something soft dey inside. I turn away, tell myself: “No cry. No regret. Just go.” But my chest dey scratch like garri without water.