Chapter 1: The Strip That Changed Everything

I found a pregnancy test strip inside my wife's bag one hot Ibadan afternoon, the kind of day when the air dey thick with dust and memories. As I dig through her bag, the sharp smell of talcum powder mix with the faint rustle of plastic. The pink-and-white plastic strip hide for bottom, squeeze between packs of Always pad and her powder. As I hold am up, my hand begin shake small, heart dey drum for my chest like I just chop pepper. Last week, I for swear nothing dey strange about Morayo—her wahala always na work, work, work. But now, my eye don clear like rain wash window.

But I just return from business trip, and we always dey use protection.

Na me buy the last pack of rubber self, e still dey inside my own travel bag. We dey careful. Na why my brain just dey spin. Wetin pregnancy test dey find for her bag? Rain no suppose touch my roof, yet water dey drip inside. My body cold like harmattan breeze.

Na so, for my mind, comments just dey fly like Facebook fight. Suddenly, bullet comments just dey rush my mind like say na Nollywood film dem dey play.

E be like say my mind dey show me scenes for cinema, everything dey loud, like audience for Facebook page wey dey type anyhow. Voices dey talk for my head: some dey support me, some dey insult me, some dey dey Morayo side. E heavy for mind.

[The supporting guy no even know say—our main babe don already carry the main guy belle.]

[You fit really blame the babe for cheating? Na that guy she love when she small. Dem jam again, how she no go fall?]

[If to say the main guy and babe no dey form that time, if dem no miss chance, e for no reach supporting guy turn.]

[Supporting guy just use opportunity. See am now, na real clown e be.]

Dem dey use supporting guy like mumu for this their story, as if na only my own matter dey funny them. Dem no dey see my own side.

I just stand there, shock.

My leg no gree move. The strip dey my hand like evidence for police station. Mosquito dey fly pass, but I no even fit move hand to pursue am. My chest dey tight like fowl wey dem tie for Christmas.

As I remember how Morayo dey always act cold towards me since we marry, I just tire for everything.

Since the wedding, her body language don dey somehow. Small thing, she go snap. Sometimes, I dey feel like stranger for my own house. I dey try, but nothing dey work. My chest dey tight as I remember.

Since e be like this, make we just divorce.

For my mind, e clear. Wetin I go dey force again? Shame no go let me ask questions. The wahala don pass my power. God abeg, na which kind bad luck be this?