Chapter 3: Evidence No Dey Lie
Tunde message me say he no go come house tonight, last minute company event.
He claim say na urgent meeting, but I sabi Tunde voice when e dey lie. My heart just dey sink.
My heart just cut small.
E pain me. For Naija, we dey say, "Body no be firewood." But for marriage, you dey expect your own person to dey come house, no matter the wahala. That night, I just dey look my wedding ring, dey wonder—wetin be my position for this man life?
I call am sharp sharp.
I no dey waste time. I call, let ring go three times. For Naija, if man no pick, you fit try till e pick. That desperation dey push me.
At first, no answer.
E pain me well. My mind dey race like danfo for third mainland bridge. I dey imagine all sort—what if, what if? I refuse to believe my fears.
After I try reach three times, Tunde finally pick.
I hear background noise, voice low. I press phone for ear, no wan miss any word. For Lagos, e no dey easy to catch man for lie, but me, I stubborn.
"Baby, my phone dey silent. I no hear am. Wetin happen?"
His voice dey soft, but I sabi the trick. When man dey dodge wahala, him go dey use soft voice.
I try hold my voice, my nails dig for my palm.
I dey try act normal, but my fingers don nearly break skin. My voice dey shake, but I try form strong woman.
"Honey, you sure say you no dey come house tonight?"
I dey set trap for am, dey wait see if e go talk true.
"Hmm, na gathering, everybody dey. I no fit come back. Abeg, understand."
I hear small laughter for background. My heart beat quick. E dey hard for Naija woman to accept say husband dey for another woman place. I dey reason—abeg, wetin I go do now?
I bite my teeth. "Women dey that your gathering?"
I no dey smile again. My question sharp, voice cool. Na this kind voice dey make man check himself.
He pause, come laugh small. "No o. Since when you start dey check me? You wan do video call to prove say I dey clean?"
He dey try switch am to joke, but I no dey buy am. As he dey talk, my mind dey pick every background sound—sheets, footsteps, maybe perfume scent if only my phone fit smell.
As he dey talk, I hear the sound of fine shirt dey rub for hotel bedsheet.
The sound soft, almost nothing. But as woman wey know her husband, I sabi the rhythm. Na that kain sound wey I dey hear for our own room after work.
Before, when we dey together, na that sound I dey hear.
Memories rush me. Those nights wey Tunde go come back, body tired, just lie for bed. The way shirt dey brush bedsheet, the way him sigh, na only wife go know.
"Mmm..."
One small sound escape from Tunde mouth.
Na the kind moan wey come when man don relax finish. For that moment, my head just clear—no need argument. Evidence dey my ear.
That time, the confusion for my mind just clear.
My heart cold, but my mind dey sharp. I fit see the truth, even if e dey pain me.
After three years, I sabi that sound well. Na the kind sound wey dey come from him body after serious enjoyment—maybe even him self no know.
As Tunde dey talk, my mind dey replay all the small small things wey I ignore—late nights, perfume for shirt, text messages wey no get explanation. Everything join, come form one big picture.
Oya. I no need catch am red-handed. The thing don already happen.
No need to drag matter for street. For Naija, woman wey sabi, dey act quietly. Me, I don see finish. I just dey calm.
I force smile. "No need video call... I fit blind sef. Enjoy yourself. Me, I wan sleep."
My voice dey soft, but my spirit dey weep. For Naija, we dey hide pain with strong face, but for inside, heart dey bleed.
My heart just dey numb as I ready to drop call.
I just hold the phone, fingers stiff. I dey wait make he talk last thing, but inside me, I know say na end be this.
Tunde talk again, voice low, rough. "Baby, we close big deal tonight. From tomorrow, everybody go dey do overtime. I fit dey come late for house—no wait for me for dinner."
He dey set foundation for more lies. I just dey hear, dey process. My mind dey work overtime pass company own.
Na real overtime? Or overtime with Morayo? Me, e no concern me again.
I close my eyes, take deep breath. My life don change tonight, and I go stand my ground.
---
I hang up. Sleep no even near my eyes that night.
I turn for bed, count ceiling. Mosquito dey buzz, generator for neighbour compound dey hum. My heart dey heavy, my pillow soak. I dey think—how I go face tomorrow, how I go face myself?
With eye wey don red, I reach company. My brain still dey blank when the chubby babe come near, ready to yarn about last night.
She dey always spot gist, sharp mouth. She just land beside me, chewing gum, her eyes dey shine. "Ngozi, abeg, gist dey!" she whisper, as if na exam question.
"Chairman Tunde and Secretary Morayo, dem do something last night for sure."
Her voice low, but the excitement dey loud. I just sigh, no want wahala. My eye still dey burn from last night. I dey try hold composure.
I just frown small.
She no even reason my mood. "Ngozi, abeg, no vex. But I just get feeling say e dey true."
She continue, "This morning, Chairman Tunde cloth just rumple anyhow, and... him still dey wear yesterday cloth. E mean say him no go house, abi?"
The way she talk am, e be like say she dey do detective work. For this Lagos, office gist dey travel fast pass Uber. I just nod, dey act like say my mind dey somewhere else.
I just nod, no even get power to hail her.
She no notice. Her mouth still dey run, "Ngozi, if na you, you go do am?" I just shrug. Sometimes silence dey loud pass talk.
She no stop, "Secretary Morayo self come late, her body just dey shine. Normally, she dey sharp, but today, e be like say she turn new person."
She dey observe every detail—her eye na real scanner. Na people like this dey make rumour fly for city.
I ask, "How?"
I try act neutral, no let am suspect wetin dey my mind. I dey test her own version of the story.
She think am. "Just brighter, sexier, more fine... see am yourself."
She use eye signal make I look. As I turn, na so I see Morayo waka pass, her perfume first enter the room before her body.
I look up, see Morayo waka enter, wear one tight skirt wey show everything.
Her skirt na real statement. Everybody dey stare, even HR dey choke for biscuit. My mind flash back—where I don see that cloth before?
I don see that skirt before. That time wey me and Tunde go shop, I like am, but dem no get my size. I pay, preorder, tell shop girl to send am give Tunde when e land.
Memory hit me like knock for head. That skirt na my own, but now e dey another person body. My chest just tight.
Now e be like say the thing don arrive—but the person wey collect am don change.
Pain hold me small. For Naija, if another woman dey rock your gift, e dey pain pass slap. I just dey look, no fit talk.
Morayo dey happy, dey ask everybody wetin dem wan drink—her treat. Everybody hail am.
For office, if you bring food or drink, na you be star. Today, Morayo na queen. People dey rush her desk, dey hail. She dey share smile, dey play with everybody. As if say nothing dey happen.
Me, I just sit for corner, my mind dey heavy. I try use work distract myself, e no work.
I dey type, delete, type again. Words no dey enter. My body dey office, but my spirit dey waka upandan. I dey pray make time fly.
Na so I dey lost till afternoon, dey chop my takeaway for desk.
Jollof rice cold, chicken hard. I dey force am. Na only hunger dey push me. My eye dey red, no joy.
Morayo waka enter Tunde office, carry better food go. Once she enter, she stay there till close of work.
People dey side-eye. Some dey whisper, "E be like say Tunde no dey eat canteen food again." My heart just dey bite me, but I no show am.
When she finally come out, time don reach to go house.
As she dey waka out, Tunde dey follow her for back. Dem dey gist, dey laugh. My body just cold.
The chubby babe beside me click tongue, sigh, "Morals don finish. Why Secretary Morayo dey run married man? Aisha wey dey near chairman office talk say Secretary Morayo just jump enter Chairman Tunde lap as she enter—almost turn office to hotel."
Gist dey fly for office like breeze. Some people dey pretend say dem no see, but dem still dey look with corner eye.
She send me picture wey Aisha snap.
For Naija, everybody dey paparazzi. I look the picture, my heart cut—e no even need caption.
Morayo dey sit for Tunde lap, dey feed am. Their body language, their eye, everything close die.
No space between dem. If person wey no know dem see am, e go think say dem be couple. My head dey spin.
"I wonder how Chairman Tunde wife go feel if she see this," the chubby girl sigh.
If only she know say na me she dey talk about. I just force small laugh—na the only thing wey remain.
Manager Fola wey dey sit opposite us frown. "Na two of them like themselves. Why una dey gossip?"
Him voice dey serious, face hard. Everybody just quiet. For Naija office, if oga talk, junior go mellow.
The chubby babe no catch the tone, just joke, "True talk. She be side chick for real."
She still dey laugh, no know say the matter pass joke.
Manager Fola vex. He throw one ledger give her. "Since you get free time, finish this one. You no dey go anywhere till you complete am."
The way e fling the file, e be like say e wan wound person. The chubby girl mellow quick, begin arrange her table.
The chubby girl just mellow.
Her mouth just seal. For office, dem dey say, "If your eye dey sharp, your mouth go learn manners."
I quietly message her: [Manager Fola and Secretary Morayo na old padi—him dey her side. Abeg, no talk like that again.]
She reply with crying emoji.
I send her small hug emoji join. For this Lagos, small gist fit turn big trouble.
I console her: [I go help you with the ledger. Make we finish am quick, I go buy you suya.]
She gree sharp sharp.
She dey always like suya, especially with extra onions. We get our own way of surviving office wahala—suya, gossip, laughter.
That night, after we finish the overtime work, as we dey ready go chop suya, Manager Fola stop us again.
He big, voice thick, but he dey always act friendly if work dey go well. Today, e dey try form team player.
"Thanks for una work. Make we go chop night food together."
For Lagos, if oga invite you go chop, you no dey get choice. We just follow am, dey pray say e go pay for food.
No chance to say no, na so him carry us go one mama put near office.
Mama Ifeoma dey serve correct banga soup, white rice, and dodo. The place dey smell like home. We all sit down, dey chop, dey gist small. For that moment, wahala no dey.
After we chop, he carry us go karaoke. We no too like am, but as interns, we no get mouth. We just find dark corner, dey play Ludo King for phone, no even know when the place don full.
The place loud, neon light dey blink, people dey sing Wizkid song off-key. Me and chubby girl just dey play Ludo, dey sip malt. Na so Lagos life be—sometimes, na distraction you need to forget pain.
Until I hear one voice wey I know well.
That voice sharp, deep—na only Tunde get am. My heart jump, I look up. I see familiar face for VIP area.
I see Tunde, dey among industry big men, sit for main seat.
Him dey cross leg, dey hold glass, dey smile like person wey own Lagos. Dem dey yarn, dey drink. I dey hide face, make dem no see me.
At first, na business talk. Later, dem begin yarn about family—children, wife, in-laws, and side chicks.
Dem dey laugh, dey tap table. Na so Naija men dey show themselves when dem dey among their guys. Secrets dey fly.
"I see Morayo post for WhatsApp status—‘lovers finally become family.’ Oya Tunde, you don finally claim Morayo?"
One short man with pot belly yarn am, voice loud. The others dey hail, dey shout. Na that kind gist dey scatter home.
I just dey listen well.
My ear dey sharp, my mind dey calculate. Every word dey burn me.
Tunde answer, calm, "You no know wetin happen that day. Morayo use resignation threaten me—if I no want her, she go leave. She don dey company for years, truth be say, we no fit do without her. In fact... me self, I no fit do without her."
As he dey talk, he dey rub him beard, eyes dey shine. The men dey clap, dey laugh. For their world, woman be like trophy, side chick be like bonus.
"So Morayo gree be your side chick? Tunde, no go spoil your own."
One slim guy laugh loud. Everybody dey look Tunde, dey wait answer.
"See, you work hard marry that small girl. We all see am. Side chicks no be problem, but if your wife catch you, she fit scatter everywhere."
Another guy add, "Na true o! Women of nowadays get hot temper."
"No be so. Morayo no mind, so why the small girl go mind?"
Na so dem dey encourage nonsense. I dey listen, my hand dey shake.
"After Tunde don spoil her for years, you think she go fit go back to normal life? Even if she catch side chicks, she no go make noise. At least she still be Mrs. Tunde—her life set."
Dem dey reason say, once woman chop money, she go swallow pain. For their mind, na position woman dey find, not happiness.
Everybody join mouth. Dem agree say as long as Tunde keep Morayo quiet, wife for house no go do anything.
Men dey nod, dey tap glass. The chubby girl beside me dey watch my face. She no know say na me dem dey talk.
Dem even hail Tunde say him get double enjoyment.
One of them even shout, "Odogwu, you be king o!" My chest dey burn, but my face dey ice.
The chubby babe beside me just wrinkle face, whisper, "Na wa o," for my ear. She add, "Chairman Tunde no try, but wetin dem talk no too far. That small girl never even graduate, no get background, no get skill—if she make noise, na she go lose. You nko...?"
I nod. "No wahala go happen. These days, people dey reason things."
I dey try play along, but my heart dey bleed. Society dey always expect woman to swallow pain in silence.
Everything fit settle quietly. Even divorce.
Na so Lagos life be—drama go happen, but everybody go pretend say e normal.
That time, Tunde drop him glass, come talk.
He lean forward, voice low, as if e dey confess. But e no know say me dey somewhere dey hear.
"Ngozi? She no get anything apart from youth. She no reach Morayo for sense. But Morayo get pride, who know how long she go fit bear am. Me self, I dey regret this marriage. To dey keep small girl dey cost. If I divorce now, the wahala go too much."
His words bite me. For that moment, I realise say the person wey I dey call husband, no get my back. E dey calculate loss and gain, like say I be property. My spirit just lock.
So, na calculation him dey do.
For Naija, marriage dey run like business sometimes. If money, pride, and shame dey enter, people dey forget say love suppose dey.
True, Tunde and me marry legal. Divorce mean say we go share property wey we gather after marriage. But as Tunde like, I fit waka with empty hand. But the price wey e go pay for me to leave like that—na him headache.
If to say na other person, I for shout, fight, drag am. But me, I just dey plan my next move.
---
When everybody finish, Morayo come carry drunk Tunde. I watch dem from far, see as dem hold each other, dey kiss. Maybe dem don dey hold am for long—once dem enter car, the car begin shake.
My eye cold, but my hand steady. For Naija, woman fit record her own evidence—dem go say you wise. I no fit shout for street, but I fit gather my own proof.
I just quietly record everything wey happen.
My phone memory dey full, but this one important pass Instagram video. As I dey record, I dey pray make my hand no shake, so evidence go clear.
Then, I call my brother.
I dial, my fingers dey shake. For my mind, I dey beg God—make he pick at first ring.
"My baby sister, wetin happen? How you get time call me this night?"
His voice warm, deep. My heart just melt. If to say my brother dey Lagos, I for run go hug am.
My brother voice just touch my heart.
Na only my brother dey understand my pain. As I hear am, my spirit calm small, but the tears no gree stop.
I no fit hold am. Tears just dey fall.
I try talk, but my voice just dey break. For Naija, woman fit cry for brother, e go be like therapy.
"Ah ah, wetin happen? You dey cry?"
He shock. His tone change—serious, protective. Na so big brother dey be.
I choke, words no gree come out.
I try talk, but voice crack. The pain heavy, my chest dey block.
My brother quick ask where I dey. I manage give am address.
I dey near roundabout for Victoria Island, leg dey shake. As I send location, I dey count seconds.
Thirty minutes later, he show.
He park Prado jeep, jump down. He just dey scan everywhere, ready for anything. Na that kind brother everybody pray for.
I curl for step by the road, dey shiver.
Night breeze dey blow, streetlight dey flicker. I just wrap my arms round myself, dey wish say life fit rewind.
My brother pull him jacket, cover me, come sit down for my side.
He dey always carry big jacket, even for heat. Tonight, e cover me, rub my back. I fit feel the love.
"Where Tunde?"
His voice cold, face strong. E be like soldier wey dey prepare for war.
"He cheat."
I talk am soft, but pain dey my voice. For Naija, woman dey shame to talk say husband cheat, but this one, I no fit hide.
My brother freeze, jaw tight. "Where him dey? I go deal with am."
He dey serious, eyes red. If no be me hold am, e for fit enter wahala for my sake.
I hold my brother hand, shake head. "No need. No let your hand dirty."
I dey beg am. For this world, e better make woman fight her own battle sometimes. My brother just dey press ground, dey try calm himself.
My brother just stamp ground vex, but e still no calm.
E dey mutter for under him breath—“Olorun maje!” If to say e get chance, e for show Tunde pepper.
He ask, "You go divorce?"
His question straight, voice low. He dey respect my choice, but he dey ready support me.
I nod sharp.
I no reason am twice. Sometimes, you fit love person reach heaven, but self-respect dey come first.
"You sure say no be mistake?"
E wan make sure say I dey clear. No be every woman fit take this kind step for Nigeria.
I show my brother all the video and pictures for my phone. I no talk much, but my brother don already decide.
He scroll the video, jaw tight. "This Lagos, nobody go use my sister play."
His face hard. As he watch finish, he just shake head. For him mind, decision don set.
He sharp sharp bring out phone, make calls. One to lawyer friend to draft divorce papers. Another to Tunde business partners—tell the ones wey never sign contract make dem no sign, the ones wey contract dey expire make dem no renew, and the ones wey get ongoing contract make dem remove discount, use market price.
My brother no dey waste time. For Abuja, if him talk, things dey move. As he dey call, I dey see say my own no dey finish here—Tunde own dey start.
After the calls, my brother hold my hand. "Come, make we go house."
He squeeze my hand, eyes gentle. Na that kind support dey make woman stand strong, no matter the pain.
I shake head, tears still dey my eye. "Before I go house, I wan pack my things first."
I wan do am with my chest, make e no be like say dem pursue me. I wan waka out with dignity, even if na only one Ghana-Must-Go bag I carry.
No waste time, my brother drive me go the house wey me and Tunde dey stay. Na Tunde buy the house. Nothing dey tie me there.
As we reach, gate man greet us, dey look face. I no even answer. I just waka inside, dey pack my things. I take only my books, laptop, and one old picture of my mama. Everything else, I leave am.
The compound quiet, only generator dey hum for distance. I drag my Ghana-Must-Go, no look anybody face.
I no even believe, after three years for this house, na so I go waka commot.
But my mind dey set. Na new chapter, and I go face am. If pain no kill me, na e go make me stronger.
"If you want this house, I go get best lawyer fight for you."
My brother dey serious. But me, I no care for building—na my peace I dey chase.
"No need, brother. Anything wey Tunde don touch dey make me feel dirty."
As I talk am, I just dey feel relief. Sometimes, letting go na the real freedom. I dey ready begin again, head up, no shame. For this Lagos, na woman wey survive dey be true Odogwu.
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