Chapter 7: Bedroom Cramp, Old Wounds

The mamas dey gist, talk con reach us.

Their gist sharp, dem dey talk like town crier. Dem no know say their matter dey pain me small.

“I hear Ifunanya still single?”

My mama nod, dey look my face. E be like say na interview she dey run.

“Yes, she date before, but break up before we see the boy.”

She dey paint me like market mango. I dey wish say I fit jump window.

“My own too—too quiet, dem dump am, he dey form.”

Aunty Ngozi dey try defend her son, dey package am as good boy. Na so dem dey do for family gist.

“Ifunanya ex worse. I hear say he dey follow female colleague for hospital.”

My mama dey scatter my file for public. I for change my name right there.

I pull my mama sleeve. “Mama, abeg stop...”

I dey beg, voice low. But she no dey hear. My own matter dey sweet her to talk.

But she no hear.

Her mouth dey sharp. I just dey pray make light off, everybody go their house.

“I hear say he self na doctor? Which hospital? Maybe Ebuka sabi am?”

As she talk, my blood dey hot. I dey use water quench shame. Dem dey dig my secret like groundnut.

I bow head, dey drink water. Dr. Ebuka hand pause, orange peel break. He look up, eyes behind glasses sharp. “True?”

The question hang for air. His eyes dey serious—na small tension dey room.

My mama complain, “Yes, Ifunanya say that yeye boy no even sabi knack well.”

Na that statement burst everywhere. Na so room cold. My body dey tremble.

I nearly choke for water. I cough, hold my chest.

The water go wrong pipe. I dey die for embarrassment.

Dr. Ebuka stretch hand pat my back.

The touch warm, gentle. Na old pattern. For small second, I fit relax.

“Oh, Ebuka too dey care. See these two—dem match well.”

Aunty Ngozi dey nod. My mama dey smile like lotto winner.

My mama drag Aunty Ngozi go downstairs. “No be fellowship time?”

“Yes, make we go!”

Two of them carry bag, dey bounce like school girls. Na only me and Ebuka remain.

The two mamas rush go. I stand go my room; Dr. Ebuka follow.

For my mind, I dey reason if e dey do detective work or na love talk e wan do.

“Dr. Ebuka, you dey enter girl room for afternoon—no medical ethics?” I jam door.

I dey use mouth dey defend territory. But my voice shake small.

He rest elbow for door. “My room still get person Strawberry Bear bedsheet.”

He dey throw old joke. I remember when I force am buy that bedsheet. That cartoon bedsheet I force am buy for Balogun market. E still dey pain am.

“Change am!” I glare. “Change am to your blue hospital cloth!”

I dey use mouth dey chase am. But him eye dey shine. Old love never die.

Suddenly, he wedge foot, enter with him long leg.

Na so he do. He no dey hear no. E enter room, carry confidence come.

“Ifunanya, when I flirt with female colleague?”

He dey look me, voice calm. I dey suspect say old beef still dey body.

“My mama no dey talk about you, Dr. Ebuka. No take am personal.”

I dey try calm matter. No be every gist be fight.

“So why we break up?”

He dey press matter. I dey form hard girl.

I stiff neck, stubborn. “Skill no dey. I tire for your matter.”

I dey use mouth cover pain. For my mind, old wound dey leak.

He lean in, nose almost touch my forehead. “Skill no dey, but every time you dey change bedsheet.”

He dey remind me of old love. I wan bone, but laugh dey hide for corner of my mouth.

Me: ...

I vex!

Shame and pride dey drag me. I no wan look am face.

He waka enter. I try kick am, but my leg cramp.

My body betray me again. Na so village people dey operate.

“Ahhh!” I shout, fall for him hand. God know, cramp pain fit make person see ancestors.

He catch me. “Wetin happen?”

The way he rush hold me, e dey gentle. My heart dey race.

“My leg cramp... E dey pain die...”

I dey hold my thigh, face squeeze like pawpaw.

All my shakara disappear.

I surrender. My pain swallow all gra-gra.

“No move, relax.”

He dey talk like coach. I no get choice than to obey.

He carry me put for bed. “Where e dey pain?”

He arrange pillow, set me gentle. Na only doctor fit do like this.

“Hiss... thigh... upper thigh.”

The pain dey knock my bone. My voice low.

He press muscle above my knee. “Here?”

His touch gentle. I shake head.

I whimper. “Higher...”

My own mouth dey loose, but pain na pain.

Him finger move up. “Here?”

I dey try form hard girl, but pain no dey respect person.

I hold pillow, grit teeth. “Ebuka, no use style touch me...”

I dey suspect am, but pain dey dull my sense.

He smile small. “Na sudden stretch cause muscle cramp. Relax.”

For my mind, I dey remember say old mama go say make I drink salt water, but na Ebuka hand dey work magic.

He try form professional, but smile dey betray am.

He massage me. Pain fade. I no go lie, him hand sabi.

Na so relief enter. I dey thank God say na doctor I follow date.

Him finger touch small strawberry for my pyjamas. “E better?”

He dey try form serious, but mischief still dey.

I try leg. “Mm, e no pain again.”

I dey appreciate small small. Inside me, body dey cool.

The cramp dey for inner thigh. Now our position just... get as e be. I nudge am with toe. “No need massage again.”

Na so position dey confuse person. For mind, I dey warn myself—no fall for old trick.

But he hold my ankle, hand warm.

He grip soft, but message loud. Chemistry still dey.

“Say I leave you for your birthday na my fault, but the patient get heart injury...”

He dey try explain, voice soft. For Naija, doctor dey face wahala every day.

“Who wan hear work report!” I kick him chest. “Doctor only dey see patient!”

I dey form hard girl, but truth be say e pain me. Relationship na balance—love and duty.

He no understand why I dey vex. To save life na doctor duty; but if boyfriend leave you for birthday, dey laugh with another woman, no even comfort you—who no go vex?

For Naija, even if you dey save world, your babe wan attention.

I turn back.

I dey reason if I overreact, but my heart still dey pain.

“Ifunanya.” He look up. “21 days after you block me, patient with your name enter hospital. That day, fear nearly kill me.”

His voice low. I never hear am talk like that before. For my mind, I dey reason say he still care.

I freeze.

Everything pause. I dey feel am deep.

“I find you four hours. Later, see you dey club with friends.” He drop eyes, look like big dog wey them wound.

His face dey pain me. Even strong man get soft side.

I... I... I no know wetin to talk. My mind blank.

My chest dey heavy. I dey swallow guilt like bitterleaf.

Room warm. He look up, loose him tie, open three buttons. As I look, na collarbone dey show. He lean, lips near my ear.

Na temptation dey room now. I dey sweat under fan.

“Baby, no vex, abeg?” Him breath hot, my ear dey burn. See him face, I don forgive am.

His eyes dey beg me. My own anger dey melt like butter for sun.

He lean in, slow: “Baby, you want kiss?”

His voice dey tickle my soul. I no fit hold body.

This man na real wahala. Body dey hungry me. After long time, I wan push am down. If I no kiss, na me lose!

The tension too much. I dey pray make nobody enter room.

Downstairs, dance music ‘Egwu Butterfly’ dey play. E be like we dey do secret thing, kiss sound mix with music—sweet die.

Everything join—music, memory, body. My mind dey float.

We kiss sotay we dizzy.

The kiss long, pass Valentine own. I dey feel am for bone.

“You don practice that medical advice?”

He dey tease me, face close. I dey blush.

“Never...”

I dey stammer. Na so old love dey humble person.

Him finger no wan stay one place. “As your doctor, I go teach you by myself.”

He dey joke, but I know say wahala dey cook. For Naija, na only man with confidence fit dey misbehave for babe house.

I remember him mama talk say he too serious. For my mind: Which kind serious person dey touch touch as he dey kiss? Beast in white coat!

I dey thank God say door lock. For this Naija, story fit spread for compound sharp sharp.