Chapter 4: Coded Chats and Office Tears

4

After that trip, me and Mrs. Halima come dey close.

Something shift. For office, eye contact plenty. If her file miss, na me she dey call first. We dey move like coded partners.

After all, to share room na secret between us.

That kind secret dey bond people for Naija. Nobody fit talk, but we dey read each other mind.

Maybe as we don cross that line, heart come open.

Once that barrier break, to yarn dey easy. She dey check on me, dey send funny meme for WhatsApp. I send her one meme of Mr. Macaroni dey shout “You are doing well!” She reply with sticker wey dey dance.

Or maybe Mrs. Halima see say I no dirty reach as she think, so her mind change.

Her wahala reduce. She dey drop snacks for my table, dey ask about my mama. All those small things dey sweet me.

Even though we dey close, we no dey talk for office, na mostly WhatsApp we dey chat, so Morayo no go suspect.

Na so coded runs dey be for Naija. If you open mouth anyhow, office people go drag your name reach town hall.

E funny—nothing special for our chat, but e be like say we must hide am.

We dey talk normal—"how your day?", "see this client wahala." But we dey always delete chat, dey play safe.

Mrs. Halima start dey treat me like small brother. The more she dey para for me before, the more she dey pamper me now.

She dey check on me—if she buy food, she go buy for me too. Sometimes, she go drop orange for my table, dey say "make you no get ulcer o."

From her side, I dey feel one kind motherly love.

If she dey travel, she go call me to carry her bag. If I dey sick, she go send ginger tea. Na so family dey start sometimes.

For real life, I dey shy, but for chat, I dey free, dey find all kind joke. When I dey chat with Mrs. Halima, I go dey tease am.

For WhatsApp, I dey form bold guy, dey run mouth. I go send meme, dey call her "Oga Madam." Sometimes she go reply me with sticker wey dey dance.

She go dey look her phone, cover mouth, dey laugh.

If you pass her desk, she fit cover mouth, dey shake. Morayo dey notice, dey reason am.

Morayo notice, look Mrs. Halima with one eye, ask: "Aunty Halima, wetin dey funny for phone? You no go show us?"

Morayo dey carry gist for head, dey try catch person. Her own wahala no dey finish.

Mrs. Halima realize say she dey show herself, quickly arrange face, talk: "Na my pikin dey do anyhow again. I go flog am when I reach house."

She form serious, arrange file, dey pretend say na family matter. Na so Naija women dey cover up.

I weak—how my joke take turn me to her pikin?

For mind, I dey laugh. Na so married woman dey dodge office question.

Morayo face me: "Kunle, you get babe? Why you dey always hold phone like say you dey find something?"

Her voice dey carry wahala. She dey expect me to confess. I dey sweat.

I blush: "No o, na just reply message."

I dey form innocence, dey hope say she go look another person face.

Morayo hiss, no gree: "I dey call you chop, you dey form say you no hear."

Her hiss loud, she drop fork for table. I dey try swallow food, dey look for escape.

I talk: "Sorry, Sister Morayo, I just dey focus."

I dey hope say apology go work. Na lie—she dey wait for me to slip.

Morayo purse mouth: "No deny. You dey date. Make I see your phone if you no dey hide anything."

She dey push matter, dey look my eye. I dey pray make ground open.

I jump, quickly cover my phone.

I no wan wahala. Na my last hope be that phone.

Morayo just look me, smile one kind.

Her smile long, meaning plenty. If you know, you know.

Mrs. Halima like Jumia shopping. Any time she buy something sweet, she go buy extra for me, so my house full with snacks.

My table dey always get biscuit, chin-chin, sometimes even cashew nuts. My guys for yard begin dey hail me, dey ask if I win lottery.

I come protest: "Sister, abeg, stop dey send me things. I no fit finish am."

I dey fear say my belly go burst. My fridge no fit close again.

Mrs. Halima roll eye: "No dey do like say you no like am. Who dey pamper you like me?"

Her eye dey shine, mouth dey sweet. Sometimes, I dey wonder if na so aunty dey pamper nephew for village.

I joke: "I dey privileged o. Even your husband no dey enjoy like this, abi?"

I dey test her mood, dey play. Her face change, silence come land.

Mrs. Halima face just change, eye come dey red.

Her face fall, she no talk for some seconds. My heart begin dey cut. I know say wahala don enter room.

I close office door, ask soft: "Sister, wetin happen?"

I drop my voice, close curtain. Her eye dey wet, she dey look ground. My mind dey heavy—no be play again.

Mrs. Halima tears just drop as she talk with shaky voice: "I think say my husband dey cheat on me."

Her voice low, pain full am. I just stand, dey look her. Even though I no be family, my heart dey cut. Na that kind moment person know say all na human being, all na struggle. I just find tissue, give her, dey stay with her, dey pray say things go soft soon. I just dey pray for her inside my mind—na so we dey do for Naija when person dey face wahala.