Chapter 2: Rain, Betrayal, and Survival

The day I find out say I carry belle, I waka inside heavy rain go the club wey Chief Lanre dey go steady.

The rain for Lagos no dey look face. E fit humble even big man. As e dey beat me that day, I just dey remember all the wahala wey follow me reach here.

By the time I reach, my hair don soak.

My clothes stick to my skin like say I dey fight for my life. Even my slippers dey make chukuchuku noise for marble floor.

Just as I wan open the door, I hear Chief Lanre cold voice from inside.

His voice carry that kind coldness wey dey chill person bone. If you no strong, you go think say na juju. His heart cold, like morning harmattan—no warmth for inside.

"You don enjoy reach? When you go return am?"

As he talk, everywhere just quiet. Only the clink of glass for table dey ring for background.

Him twin brother, Tunde, answer, "No o, I never tire."

Tunde voice dey always playful. You go think say na small pikin, but e get mind pass.

Chief Lanre frown. "You no touch her abi? You know the rule."

The frown reach him eyebrow. E no dey smile anyhow, especially when e concern woman matter.

Tunde pause small—just small—then him lips bend. "Why you dey worry? I never touch her."

For Tunde face, you go see mischief. He fit lie without blinking. Na dem kind boys dem dey warn girls about for hostel.

He lift him wine glass. "But even if I do am, you no go even send, abi?"

The room dey smell expensive perfume and cigar, plus that strong ogogoro scent wey dey hide for corner. Na big man place, but the wahala inside pass all those aroma.

Chief Lanre face change small. "Abeg, that one dey nasty."

You go notice say e wan para but e hold am. For Lagos, men dey hide their shame with style.

Laughter burst out for the room:

"Second Son Lanre, you dey chop your brother woman join?"

As dem laugh, table dey shake. Money people, their laugh dey loud like generator.

"Na lie, no blame Second Son Lanre. With the way Ifunanya fine, who no go wan try?"

I feel their eyes for my body even though I still dey for door. For Naija, if woman fine, wahala dey follow.

"See her shape—her hips be like ripe mango, e don almost burst."

Their voice dey loud like boys for street wey dey hail new ride.

"But First Son Lanre no even send woman at all. He no dey touch her."

Gist dey fly like pepper for stew. Nobody dey pity woman for their mouth.

The babe wey sit near Chief Lanre laugh, "Why Ifunanya dey like buka wey anybody fit enter?"

That one bite me. But for this country, na only strong heart dey survive.

Everybody just burst laugh.

Their laughter get weight, na that kind laughter wey dey remind person say e dey alone for this world.

I know her.

Bukola, the small madam for Abuja big people circle, Chief Lanre padi from small—na him dey pamper her since dem small.

Bukola dey always find way enter drama. She sabi turn small gist to blockbuster.

Somebody ask, "Who get this kind wicked idea?"

Bukola just hiss. "Na me now." She laugh. "Dem no sharp at all."

She sabi how to take shine for crowd. Her eye dey always dey like person wey plan something big.

"Ifunanya no go ever believe say Chief Lanre get twin brother."

For her mind, na film she dey direct. I be just character for her game.

"Una suppose thank me. If no be me, this your game no go sweet reach like this."

Na she dey control their moves like conductor wey sabi road well.

Chief Lanre smile for her. "Yes, yes, na you sabi pass."

The way Chief Lanre dey smile for Bukola, sometimes I dey wonder if na me or her get the real place for him life.

Another person talk, "I hear say First Son Lanre wan marry Ifunanya in seven days. Na true?"

Their voice get that sly sound, like dem dey wait make person fall trap.

Chief Lanre smirk. "Na wash. The babe dey find title, I just dey play her."

My heart cold as I hear am. All the times I dey think say love dey, na so e just be game.

Bukola suddenly sit up, her eyes dey shine like person wey get plan:

Her eye dey sharp, like cat wey see rat. For her mind, na just fun.

"After una marry for seven days, make all of una tell her say una dey share her for one year now. I wan see as her face go be."

Bukola voice dey sweet for gist. She dey find drama wey go shake ground.

"Push her fall from happiness go pain—e go sweet."

She use her hand draw curve for air, face dey do like say she dey paint picture.

Chief Lanre shake head. "You still dey behave like small pikin."

He try form maturity, but deep down, dem be the same.

Bukola squeeze face. "No matter, you dey get wetin you want since we small."

Her mouth dey sharp. She no dey take last word for talk.

"But make una careful—no go give her belle by mistake."

Her voice dey serious small. As e concern pregnancy, everybody dey mind am for Naija.

"Girls wey suffer for street, if dem carry belle, dem no dey gree commot."

She talk am like proverb. Street girls dey fight for their survival, no be play.

Chief Lanre frown small. "Abeg, no dey joke with that one. We never touch her."

The frown deep, e face tight. For am, na reputation matter pass.

Bukola tilt her head. "But if she really carry belle nko?"

Bukola no go let talk die. She dey like dog wey no dey drop bone.

Chief Lanre just laugh. "Leave her make she dey go, abi Tunde?"

The laugh dry, like say e no mean anything. But my mind dey race.

Tunde just dey look somewhere else, but when Chief Lanre call am, he answer, "Mm."

E act like person wey no want wahala, but na him get wahala pass.

Comments for my mind:

[See as Tunde dey form say he never do anything, meanwhile na him dey chop her behind brother back.]

My mind dey scatter. For this life, na only God know who dey true.

[Side babe carry belle dey happy, she no know say na Chief Lanre twin dey run am.]

This kind thing fit kill person joy. But as dem talk am, my heart dey heavy.

[Na only main babe Chief Lanre dey reason. Even if side babe get belle, he go still pursue her and pikin.]

Street no dey pity woman, especially if you no get name or backup.

[This thing sweet—Chief Lanre dey pure for main babe, Tunde dey use side babe practice. Na the kind drama I like.]

People dey find gist wey dey sweet dem. My pain be their entertainment.

I look the pregnancy test for my hand—two red lines.

The two lines dey look me like crossroad. I touch my stomach, dey imagine small pikin wey go call me mama. My whole future dey hang for inside.

I run under rain come tell Chief Lanre.

Rain dey beat me like say God dey wash away my shame. But as I reach, nobody care. For this Lagos, rain or sun, people dey face their own.

I really carry belle.

I sit for corner, my heart dey pound like bata drum for Egungun festival. I want joy, but fear dey hold me.

But now, e no make sense again.

My whole plan scatter. I dey ask myself, who I go trust?