Chapter 10: Tears, Lament, and Sacrifice

Musa sweat drop enter my eye by mistake.

E dey on top me, na so one hot sweat just drop for my eyelid. I blink, pain hold me.

My eye dey pain, tears just dey fall.

Na reflex, I dey rub eye, but tear just dey drop. E resemble small pikin wey dem beat.

Musa stop, go bring tissue.

E rush go bathroom, come back with tissue. E dey panic, dey whisper sorry.

“Sorry, I…”

E voice soft, e own worry real. E dey talk, dey find way to make me feel better.

Maybe e think say e hurt me.

E dey blame self. I see for e eye say e no wan make I cry.

As e talk sorry, I cry more.

My own tears no gree stop. E dey flow with all the wahala for my mind.

I hug e back, dey cry like small pikin.

I wrap hand around am, dey sob. E body dey warm, I just dey look for comfort.

“Wetin I do God, why my own always bend? Na only me waka come for this life?”

I dey lament, voice crack. E pain me deep.

“Waaah, Musa, dem say I go do engagement.”

I dey talk anyhow, words dey jumble. My own sorrow dey reach ground.

My talk no even get head.

E fit be pidgin, fit be English, na mix. I dey release pain, e dey hold me.

“Why dem fit do anything, but I just dey here to make their character sweet?”

E pain me say na my own wahala dey build their own joy. I dey ask why God no write my name for lead.

“Wuwuwu, I too pity myself.”

I hug am tight, I dey whine, but na true pain dey bite my heart.

As sleep dey catch me, I rest for Musa chest.

E chest dey rise and fall, heartbeat steady. Na there I find small peace, even with all the wahala.

Before I sleep, I think, Musa sef dey suffer pass me.

I dey reason am, e pain me. E own story no sweet, na real background.

At least I be rich side character. E just be broke, fine background guy.

My own privilege still dey show, even when wahala land. Musa just dey survive, dey manage.

And I dey use am anyhow.

Sometimes I dey wicked, I dey use money run am. E pain me, but e still dey beside me.

As I wake, Musa don waka again.

Morning don land, e own side of bed empty. I dey look, dey wonder if na dream.

Empty room, I just dey look ceiling.

Fan dey turn, sun dey shine, but I still dey cold.

I laugh myself—

Na real laugh, but e pain small. I dey wonder if na real life be this.

E just resemble all those game background people, wey get fixed story.

I dey reason say even if I try, my path no fit cross lead forever. My own role dey limited.

We only dey meet for bed, at certain time.

Our own story na coded schedule, no passion outside contract.

Phone show missed calls, all from my papa.

As I see papa number, my heart skip. E no dey call unless wahala big.

I think say wahala don start, I pick: [Papa, wetin happen?]

My voice low, e dey crack. I dey fear the worst.

[My pikin, we still lose the bid.]

E voice weak for phone. I fit feel the tiredness from far.

This port bid na the last hope for company.

If we no win am, na ground level remain. My own hope just vanish.

Papa sigh.

Long silence dey. My own eye dey wet.

Silence small, then: [How about make you go study abroad? No come back for some years.]

E voice low, like say e dey beg. Na solution e dey find, make I escape wahala.

The story dey follow as the system talk yesterday.

I dey remember the warning. My own mind dey race.

I breathe deep: [Papa, I wan marry Segun Adekunle.]

I close my eye, say am with boldness. I know say e go pain me, but na only way to save papa.

…

Funny thing be say, na side character like me dey help main character grow love and get sense.

As I dey reason, I see say my own suffering na fertilizer for their own joy. E pain me, but na true.

Na my wickedness dey make dem look kind and strong.

As I dey bad, their own shine dey increase. Life na balance, but sometimes e no fair.

Na my ignorance and pettiness dey make their love sweet.

I dey act, dem dey react, audience dey clap.

Na my tool-like existence dey set dem up as perfect main character.

Na me dey build plot, but na dem dey reap reward. My own side, na story nobody dey remember.