Chapter 3: Temptation and Truth

Every day I just dey waka like person wey lose road, my mind no dey clear. Na that world behind the wall dey draw me. Baba Musa and Amaka go just dey show for my eye like film wey dem schedule.

E reach point wey I no dey even answer my own friends call. If keke horn pass for street, na just background sound. I go forget to brush, even forget to lock my door. If person talk to me, e go sound like echo. I dey walk anyhow for Palm Grove, slippers dey drag sand. Na only that small hole get meaning for me, as if na there my true life dey happen.

But small small, I begin notice say something dey wrong. Dem no dey really talk. Baba Musa go waka early, come back late, dey work for him shop, but dem no dey gist. No matter how late, Amaka no dey ever reject am. Wetin confuse me pass be say, with the way Amaka fine, even if she no marry big man, she fit see better person. But Baba Musa, with all him oil and big body, even me sef better pass am.

You go think say woman wey marry chef go dey glow, but Amaka just dey inside, no joy for her eye. If Baba Musa talk, she go nod, but her mind dey far. Sometimes I go hear her hum old song, but she no dey sing am reach chorus. For my mind, I dey reason say, why fine woman dey behave like plant wey dem forget water? The matter dey worry me small—e dey make me dey wonder whether na only me dey observe this kind thing for Lagos. For area, gist go start say 'that woman too quiet o,' but me I know say na pain dey hide behind her silence.

A couple wey dey act like say dem love each other, but nothing dey inside. I begin dey wonder—how Baba Musa take marry this kind fine woman? Na so me sef fit do am?

Sometimes I go catch myself dey dream, dey imagine say I get small buka, dey find babe like Amaka. I go shake head—na this Lagos hustle dey make person reason anyhow. The kind arrangement wey Baba Musa and Amaka get, e no pure. Street wise people dey talk say, if you see couple wey too dey form love, check am well—e fit be business or survival package.

One day, I hear soft door close for the other side. That sound dey always happen midnight, but now na just 5 p.m.

The sound no be the normal night wahala. I freeze, my heart dey beat fast. For this compound, any movement dey mean something—either person dey dodge landlord or person dey hide matter.

I dey worry, so I look through the hole. Na so I see Amaka for another man hand. The man wear shirt and shorts, him no tall, very slim. The air for room get scent of strong perfume—no be Baba Musa type.

My eye open like torch, I press face well to see. The man look familiar, but e no be area person. The way him dey hold Amaka waist, you go know say dem get old story. For Amaka face, I see smile wey I never see before—na smile wey full, as if she dey free.

"Too bad you quit. I find you for one year," the man talk.

The man voice get that soft baritone wey you go hear for radio advert. Him dey gentle, him eyes dey look Amaka like say she na the last woman for earth.

"I don marry. I no want do again," Amaka answer.

Her voice low, no be the playful tone she dey use for Nollywood film. As she talk, her hand dey play with her own hair, head bent small.

"You believe say since you stop, I never find any other woman?" the man talk as he dey pull shirt.

He dey do shakara, but him eye dey show say e dey weak. As he dey loose button, the room get hot. Amaka just dey look ground, no dey meet him eye.

"I no believe you," Amaka just bone, knack am one small slap, like say she dey play ten-ten. "How you take manage? You no dey suffer?"

The slap na play slap, small, like two pikin dey fight for sand. Amaka lips bend up, but her eyes dey sharp—like say she dey test the man.

"Na only you I want." The man gently push am, and Amaka land for bed.

The man voice soft, but the way him hand dey steady, you go know say na true. Amaka follow fall for bed, no even struggle, her body just surrender.

After like fifteen minutes, the man carry three bundles of cash from pocket, hide am under pillow, talk, "I no want make you come back—I just feel say nobody else reach your level."

The bundle of money tie with rubber band, old notes join new—e resemble market woman daily sales. The cash na real money—dem big. I see the way the man arrange am like ritual, as if na payment for lost time. The air for room dey different, as if spirit dey dance there.

Amaka no argue. She help the man dress, hug am, kiss am, see am comot.

Na that time I understand everything.

As she help the man button shirt, she no rush—she touch am for back, rest small on him chest. The kiss, e no be sharp kiss, na long and slow. When the man waka commot, Amaka stand for door, hand for waist, dey look outside window like person wey dey chase memory. My mind come heavy; wetin I think I dey watch since all na just one part of bigger matter.