Chapter 3: Lioness and Stubborn Goat

I hold my head, dey look the new contact card wey the agency send for chat.

The contact get one funny name, but na the avatar kill me pass. Na something too familiar—my handiwork.

"Bro, if na she you want, add her, ask her schedule. She dey very busy, haha."

The laugh wey dem add for there, e just dey pepper my chest. I dey look the message like say my eye dey play trick.

The avatar na something I know sharp sharp.

As I look am, my hand begin shake small. My mind dey run back to the day I draw am.

Na the couple avatar wey I draw by myself:

My wife as lioness, me as stubborn goat.

That stubborn goat—na joke wey only me and her understand. For our family group, na so my people dey tease us with am. I remember the way I use pencil dey sketch am for parlour, she dey chop suya beside me.

She dey bite my ear, I dey tickle her toes—na only us get am for this world.

Even her friends dey hail us, say our love get creativity. I put am for her phone wallpaper that year.

I still remember how happy she be when she see am, her face shine, she rush enter my arms.

She begin dey jump for parlour, hold my neck, dey laugh like small pikin wey get new toy. E no easy to please Ngozi, but that day, na pure happiness.

"So na so you see me, strong and fierce? Dashu, you too good to me."

She rub my head, dey call me her stubborn goat. We dey play, dey roll for carpet like two stubborn goat wey never chop grass before.

I hug her, my young face just dey shine with happiness.

For my mind, I dey pray say make nothing ever spoil this love. Na memory wey dey follow me sleep every night.

"Of course, Ngozi. I love you. I want give you the best of everything."

As I talk am, she dey blush, use my shirt cover her face. That kind love na correct Naija love—no faking, just pure.

Now, all those memories dey pain me like knife for chest.

I dey feel say person dey use stone grind my heart. The pain no be here. I dey remember how we start, from hustle to happiness.

My blood dey boil, vision dey blur, I even cough like person wey wan faint.

I dey try control myself, no make I shout for hotel room. My throat dry, I dey beg say make God help me survive this night.

With shaking hand, I send friend request, dey pray make she no accept.

E be like say I dey gamble with my life. If she accept, my whole world go scatter.

Or make person just wake me from this wahala dream.

I dey talk inside my mind, “Make all this na dream. Make I just wake up see say Ngozi dey beside me dey snore.”

Next thing, I hear WhatsApp ping—my heart just scatter. I look phone, no believe my eyes.

That notification loud like thunder. I wipe sweat for forehead, dey fear open am.

"Ngozi don accept your request. You fit chat now."

My hand dey shake as I dey press my phone. E no easy to believe.

The stubborn goat and lioness avatar wey I draw send long voice note.

That voice na her own, no mistake. The way she call “Baba”, e carry that soft accent wey dey always make me smile.

"Baba, where you dey? I dey Dihao Hotel. You fit book me tomorrow..."

Na my chest scatter. I fall back for bed. Na the same hotel wey I dey. My own wife dey advertise for hotel wey I dey sleep.

I jump up—because na Dihao Hotel I dey.

Na only God know how I take stand up. Blood rush my head. I check room number, check my phone, dey confirm say I never mad.

I grab my phone, reply carefully:

"I dey Dihao too. Where exactly you dey?"

I no wan show say I know her. I dey type like customer. I dey pray say e go make sense.

I still no wan believe. I gats see am with my eye, hear her explain.

I dey hope say na mix up. Maybe na person dey use her account, or na voice changer. For this country, people sabi do fake.

My pure, beautiful Ngozi—how she go be that kain woman?

I dey look her WhatsApp DP, dey remember her shy smile, the way she dey laugh for my joke—even the way she dey vex, e dey cute. E hard to link am with runs work.

I rather believe say dem hack her account than say Ngozi fit betray me or dey sell herself to strangers.

I dey pray say na yahoo boys dey play with me. E no possible, not my Ngozi.

I refuse to believe.

For Naija, we dey always trust our own until we see am with our eye. I dey ready to bet all my salary say my wife no fit.

That time, my dispatch rider call enter.

The guy dey shout for phone, say fuel finish, make I send small change. I just dey answer am like zombie, no dey even process wetin he dey talk.

Because of work, I never chop since morning.

Na true, na only gala and malt I fit manage for road. Na hunger dey finish me join wahala.

Now, after this kind shock, strength no dey my body.

I feel my hand dey weak, my leg dey shake. I go look mirror, see say my eye don red. Hunger and heartbreak na bad combo.

I force myself go downstairs collect food, mind just dey blank, dey look my phone, but no reply from her.

As I dey press elevator, I dey watch phone like say e go talk back. No ping. My mind dey heavy. I fit hear my own breath for ear.

As I dey go back up, I look front—see person wey make my body shake.

I almost drop my food. My knees weak. For this kind night, na only God fit explain how this wahala reach me.