Chapter 5: One Night, Old Fire

After that day, I no contact Emeka again. Lock number for phone. Mind dey try move on, but night, I dey scroll old chats. Sometimes delete, sometimes save.

Till new weekend reach. Friday, bag ready. Enter car, face strong, heart soft. Drama continue.

Show dey use rotation. Every week, shuffle us like card. Audience bet, shout for Twitter. My cousin ask, "Aunty, who be your partner this week?"

This weekend, couples switch back. Everybody expect wahala. Energy tense, storm dey come.

"Director." Morayo voice soft, polite. Face dey shine for camera. She dey act peacemaker, but I sabi say she dey hustle script.

Morayo voice full of understanding, like she dey think for show. She dey appeal to director, act like happiness no matter. But sly look for eye.

"Me and Kenechukwu-bro popularity too high. If you switch us now, audience go curse you." She dey sell herself, protect brand. She know Naija people dey quick vex.

Director reason, "But—" Scratch head, dey reason new plan. Drama dey sweet audience, but show need sense.

"Kenechukwu-bro," Morayo turn, "who you dey choose tonight?" She throw question like bait, eyes dey dance. She wan hear answer loud, for everybody to catch.

She don wait this moment. Body language scream anticipation. Hands dey twist coral bead, smile stretch wide.

The more secret, the more you want am public. Na so Naija be. Everybody dey wait make scandal burst, hope to catch am live.

Kenechukwu know what she want. Face sly, sabi game, sabi her motive. But go play own part, act hard to get.

He glance me on purpose, lean back. Eye dance from her to me, weigh options. He hope say I go react, but I bone face.

"Is there even a choice?" Voice low, sarcastic. Wan provoke me, see if I go vex. Na so dem dey fish drama.

"Audience no wan see her." Throw shade, audience laugh. Fans online hype, "Yes, forget her!"

Morayo get answer she want, then look me. She gloat, but eyes sharp. Na competition, not just show.

"Ifunanya-sis, you no mind, abi?" She act innocent, but wan see my reaction. I ready, package face.

"But you don be housewife too long, maybe you no know—audience preference na koko, you suppose think of show..." Words sharp, sweet for ear. She try shade me, I no show pain.

"Okay." I talk sharp, voice no shake. Everybody freeze, expect drama. I gree quick, shock all.

Kenechukwu look up, eye narrow, try read mind. No expect calm. I smile, face front.

They think I go do drama. Producers prepare camera, audience expect tears. But I disappoint, no give gist.

So dem fit use my reaction make Morayo look better. Na so dem script—one villain, one angel. I refuse play part.

But I agree just like that. My calm scatter plan. Even Morayo fumble, line stuck for throat.

She stammer, try recover. I enjoy her discomfort. Small victory.

"Good, just no regret." Voice small, almost warning. I nod, smile, "No wahala."

I say, "Let’s keep am like this from now." Gree, make all rest. Tone strong, no fear.

Her face stiff small. For second, she lose composure. Small wins dey sweet woman heart.

She smile again, tuck hair, say soft: "You dey try make Kenechukwu-bro jealous?" Words drip sarcasm. Wan make audience think say I dey chase ex.

"Everybody know you join show to win am back." She paint me desperate. I no reply, just smile, watch her perform.

"But see, not only is he not jealous, you go still watch him enter my room." Jab sharp. I no moved. I adjust chair, face phone.

Director call them. Time for next scene. Producers hurry, keep all on cue.

They decide continue last week setup. Audience shout, "No change am!" Director gree.

Before leaving, Kenechukwu tease Morayo: "You no dey fear say she and Emeka go dey one room?" Wan stir wahala, make Morayo jealous. Triangle drama.

Once she hear that name, Morayo burst laugh. Laughter loud, almost fake. Wan show say she no send.

"I never see am like anybody before." Shade me, but na herself she expose. For mind, believe Emeka no get interest in me.

"With her?" Roll eye, voice sharp. I just dey watch, enjoy show.

"Lock them together one year, he still no go like her." Overdo, I no moved. Audience laugh, some pity me.

The two exchange glance, smile knowingly. Smile loud, like trophy. I no talk, hold peace.

Kenechukwu, right in front of me, remove coat, put for Morayo. Try pepper me, old trick. I look away, pretend e no concern me.

"Ifunanya, if you wan win me back, these tricks no reach." Wan provoke me, hoping I go snap. I smile, reply calm, "Nobody dey drag you."

He wan make me embarrass, play victim. Wait for me to cry or shout, I no gree. I remind myself, "Ifu, you don pass this level."

Kenechukwu and Morayo go luxury villa—big house, swimming pool, chef. Camera roll, audience wish na them.

Na reward for last week highest heart rate. Naija like reward. Everybody envy online. Comments: "Na love dey win!"

Morayo post candlelight dinner on Facebook. Picture fine, filter sharp. Table set, wine glass, flowers, jollof rice look expensive.

Comments full of shipping. "God, when?" "#CoupleGoals!" Friends tag me, dey laugh. I scroll, no moved.

I see all this as I dey car for show. Driver look me mirror, gauge reaction. I swipe, no expression.

Car dey head old part of town. Building old, road rough. Heart dey race, "Hope say place no too bad."

["If these two no get heart rate up, dem go chop elimination?"]

["Emeka no fit go anywhere, status too high, dem go just switch partner."]

["Dead show, why Emeka even join?"]

["The more awkward, the more I dey ship. Something go happen."]

["Person above dey mad, if anything happen, I go chop shit standing on my head."]

I drop phone, ask staff: "Where me and Emeka go sleep tonight?" I look staff, try read face. Smile sly, like secret.

"Since una heart rate low, punishment. Tonight una go sleep for..." Drag sentence, build suspense. Mind jump, "Abeg talk quick."

Car stop, he nod old block. Eyes big. Building na face-me-I-face-you, paint dey peel, stairs dey shake. Place get history, but e rough.

"There," he say, "rented apartment." Heart sink. I hold face, act strong. "Na only one night."

I get down. Air cold, dust fly. Hug self, drag bag. Camera follow every step.

Filming na just car livestream. No big crew. If I fall, nobody help—only online people go laugh.

From far, only my back show. Dem film behind, my shadow long, spirit strong.

No sound. Only slippers slap ground, breathing fill ear. Silence loud.

I stand for door. Hand shake. Try find key. All memory of old rented house rush back.

Head blank small. Freeze, no sure if I wan enter or run. Life crossroad.

I call former boss, my best friend. Voice loud, "Ifu, wetin happen?" I hope say she go talk sense.

"Emeka tell me, long time no see." I repeat words, dey wonder if na sign. She laugh, "And so?"

I really need her pour cold water. I expect harsh truth, not pity. True friend.

"So what?" She cut drama. Voice sharp, no time.

"What else e wan talk?" She reason, "Wetin concern you?"

Just as I expect. Always truth—no sugar.

"Abeg, who no get ex?" Words cut. Remind me say nobody holy.

"He get plenty option, why pick divorced woman like you?" Bring back reality. For Naija, woman wey don divorce dey face wahala. Voice no pity, but na for my good.

"Just because of those months una suffer together? That time na him lowest point, who dey miss that life?" Break am down. Mind flashback—old struggle days—no food, no light, but laughter.

She right. I nod, even though e pain. For life, na truth set person free.

I cut call. Mind clear small. Pack emotions, put for pocket, push door open.

I open door. Room small, paint dey peel, but old comfort dey. Mind wander—how e go be tonight?

Emeka on ladder, fix ceiling bulb. Back turn, but I sabi curve shoulder. Room smell kerosene and soap.

When he raise hand, slim muscle flex, line smooth. Skin glow under light. I admire, hide am for face.

Na old days dey play for mind. Remember how we dey fix things, even when money no dey.

Always act with harness, waist always bandaged. Real struggle. When he dey shoot stunt, I dey patch bandage. Small moment na love in action.

Old tungsten lamp for hand. Twist bulb, careful. Wire spark, no fear. Sabi fix things.

Off, then on. Light flicker, room bright. He jump down, dust hand, smile at me.

Too familiar. Heart squeeze. Na so love be—no matter how you try forget, old comfort dey sweet.

I stand for door, unable to enter. Leg glue. Wonder if I fit survive another night with old feelings.

"Food dey ready." Voice soft, like old times. No shout, no force. Only kindness for eye.

He see me. Nod, gesture me enter. Small smile—reminder of what we once share.

Just simple words, no extra. No form. Just himself. Sometimes, simplicity dey choke pass drama.

My wahala dey seem strange. I laugh inside. Fear, overthinking—just dey waste. Ordinary night, but heart heavy.

Maybe I dey overthink. I sigh, drop bag, face table. "No be everything person suppose reason too much."

For am, show just be safe way to end marriage public. Mind dey for future. I dey realise na only me dey drag history.

Outside, harmattan dey blow. Cold wind sneak crack. I wrap shawl, teeth chatter. Only hot food fit cure chill.

He tall, well built, sharp face, dey counter make pepper soup. Aroma fill room, stomach rumble. I admire focus—real husband material, even if na only tonight.

He just look like husband material. For Naija, if man sabi cook, na plus. I smile, wish say things fit different.

I snap him back, post for Facebook. Na show assignment. Caption: "Chef Emeka in action." Comments roll, people dey ship.

That be my task. I remind myself na only work, no be life. Drama must go on.

After food, he no let me wash plate. Snatch am, "Rest." I laugh, sit, watch him hustle kitchen.

He move fast, wash hand, then start make bed. Arrange pillow, spread blanket. Old habit. Heart melt, but I act cool.

Only one bed. I swallow spit. Old temptation. Eye look floor, wonder how we go survive.

He say he go sleep floor. Voice calm. "No wahala," I answer. But I dey wonder if I fit sleep at all.

"Your waist injury, you want new bandage?" Voice soft, concern. Old feelings hard to kill.

"I fit do am myself," he reply. Stubborn, no wan show weakness. I nod, look away.

After bath, I come out, see he don spread thin blanket for floor. Lie down, face ceiling. Cold no worry am. My heart warm, but I still hide feelings.

He dey take long bandage from bag. I watch, remember old days. Na me dey always do nurse, now he dey manage.

I avoid eyes, pick phone. Distraction na only escape. Scroll, check message. Hand shake small.

Kenechukwu send voice note. Message pop, hand wet, I press play by mistake. Sound loud.

I panic, try reduce volume. Emeka look, smile small, no talk.

Kenechukwu see my Facebook post. Dey monitor my life, even from far. Old habit, hard to kill.

"You fit chop pepper soup?" Voice playful, subtle shade. Wan remind me na him know my taste.

"That cake you say you want last time, I don buy am for you." Remember that request. Heart twist, I no show.

That cake na what I say I want for birthday last year. I talk am, he laugh, say I dey ask too much. Now, na show make am remember.

He never buy then. I reason why e come now. Everything na image for camera.

Wait till now, just to keep loving image for show. Na so Naija celeb do. All na content, not life.

I look phone. Light above block by Emeka. Shadow fall for hand. I look up, eyes soft, beg for help.

"Help me small." Pass bandage, voice low. I stand, move close, hand shake.

He hold bandage. I try wrap, fingers cold. Old memory choke me.

But he just say he fit do am himself? I smile, "Let me help." He no resist. Silence sweet, bitter.

Change dressing, wrap bandage. Hand brush waist. He inhale small, I focus. Closeness dey kill, but I form strong.

Hand no long, so I stretch, avoid full contact. Air thick, old feelings dey rise.

Northern rented apartment. Cold bite, dust enter. I shiver, pretend strong.

Heater weak, harmattan dust and cold air sneak. We manage, laugh. "Na real suffer head," Emeka joke. I smile, heart warm.

Cold. Teeth chatter. I rub arm, cover body.

We keep distance. Only small touch. Air buzz, nobody cross line.

Fingertip touch bandage. Gentle contact. Hand linger, let go quick.

His face only turn side, look away. Maybe to hide feeling.

Not like that year, southern room. Back then, no shame, no distance. Hold each other, laugh, cry.

Hot, stuffy. Room sweat us, but love cool body. Sweat run, no care. Bodies tangle, world disappear.

Back then, day and night, we hold each other like tomorrow no dey. Now, only memory dey keep me warm. Eye wet, I hold tears.

"Click." Bulb flicker again, sound sharp.

Tungsten lamp come on. Room bright small, shadow dance wall.

We stand under light. Shadow overlap, body still far.

That year, when we get nothing, we no fit change bulb. Use torch, candle. But love make everywhere bright.

If e still work, we use am. Na suffer wey sweet. No complain, just manage.

Old tungsten lamp fix again and again. Emeka always fix, no matter how e break. Na hope sign.

Always flicker midnight. We use sound as code—small signal, "I dey here."

Back then, eighteen-year-old Emeka tell me: "If you hear sound, e mean I dey think of you."

I smile, tears for eye. Old love, old promise.

Tonight. Sound repeat. Na memory dey play.

Now we lack nothing. Money dey, but happiness hard. Irony of life.

Lamp flicker many times. I count am—heartbeat, memory.

I look up, "But you just fix am now now?" Voice small, playful. Dey tease, hope say he go open up.

He pause, look down. Eyes shine, smile play lips.

"I do am on purpose." Confession low. Heart skip.

I ask, "Why?" Voice almost break. Hope for answer wey go heal.

"If I fix am well, you no go hear sound again." Words choke. I swallow, hold tears.

I shock. Freeze, mind blank. Old hope rise.

He take bandage, wrap himself. Shift, finish job. I sit, watch, wonder tomorrow.

"Ifunanya." Voice call me back. Body tense.

He call my name. From him mouth, na old prayer.

"Hm?" Answer soft, almost whisper. Ready for anything.

"You prefer pepper soup or cake?" Question simple. Chest rise. Na real talk.

Person no fit lie about food. Food dey reveal feeling pass anything for Naija.

"Pepper soup." I talk straight, no pretense. Small smile for his face, na my reward.