Chapter 1: Rain No Dey Wash Shame

After Olumide’s white moonlight—the woman wey him heart never forget—show face again, he divorce me sharp-sharp, no even look back.

He no even look my face, just dey scroll him phone as if na bank alert he dey check. E talk am like say e no concern am again.

As if my whole story na for background, I watch am move like man wey don dey wait for opportunity since. This 'white moonlight' sef, Chiamaka, her presence dey shine everywhere, push me into shadow. Sometimes, I dey wonder if all those prayer and fasting wey I do when we marry dey even enter God's ear. Sometimes, I dey wonder if my prayer dey bounce for ceiling like rubber ball.

“Chiamaka no fit wait again. Na only divorce paper I fit give you.”

The way e fold him hands for chest, I fit see say decision don set for him mind since. For this Abuja, once man don make up him mind, even mountain no fit change am.

“No wahala. Divorce letter and agreement to separate, na the same thing.”

My voice dry, but I manage hold face. For inside me, spirit dey shake like generator wey don nearly knock.

Dem send me go back to Umuola village, but the pikin wey I carry for belle for ten months, dem leave her for Olumide family house.

Na that kain pain wey dey your chest, but you no fit talk am—because for this side, na family wey get money dey control everything. I dey pray make Ifunanya remember say she get mama wey love am.

Everybody think say I don lose everything.

Na so neighbour dem dey talk anyhow for back. Women for market dey look me with one kain pity-eye, as if na leprosy I carry.

Five years later—

Abuja wey I run from, na him I dey run go again. Because I miss my pikin too much, I come back to Abuja.

Chiamaka tell me:

“Aunty, that time, na because you help my husband, you just waka enter Olumide family like fowl wey perch for mango tree. Now wey you come back, you wan go dey find another big family to attach yourself?”

Her voice sharp like new razor. I just look am, mind dey calculate whether to answer or just ignore.

Olumide too talk say, “Woman wey dem don divorce—who go gree marry her again?”

Even the way he talk am, e be like say the word 'divorce' dey choke for him mouth. As if na me use my hand pack shame come.

So, he sabi everything.

I see am for him eyes. The pride, the judgement. In this our land, woman wey divorce dey carry plenty load for head, but man go waka free.

But when my jealous husband show face, na there Olumide, wey dey always form calm, begin lose him balance.

The kind tension wey dey hang for air that day fit cut person if you just wave hand small. You know say, for this Naija, if two men dey look one woman, wahala dey near.

“Na she be Chief Olumide original wife?”

I hear am from back of my ear as I dey pass, na two old women for corner dey gossip. Dem rub powder for face sotey, nose dey white. Chai, see as dem dey judge person life for public.

“Original wife ke? Now, Madam Olumide na Chief Olumide childhood love.”

Dem dey argue like election dey happen. For this our area, everybody sabi everybody matter pass government.

“She snatch another person husband, now dem don abandon am—e good for her.”

One woman clap hand together, face squeeze like person wey just chop bitter leaf. Another one hiss, look me from head reach toe.

I just reach Abuja, na so gossip start dey enter my ear.

For junction, keke driver even greet me, "Madam, you don come back? E go better."

No be their fault sha. As e be now, Chiamaka, Madam Olumide, na she fit Olumide pass.

Her powder dey set, her wrapper dey shine, her English dey roll for tongue like person wey go better school for overseas.

Me, I just be orphan wey save Olumide life by chance.

That one story for another day. Na real accident—na God use my hand that day. I sometimes dey wonder, if to say my papa or mama still dey alive, maybe things for different.

That time, Chiamaka family don scatter finish. Chiamaka volunteer go church go pray for Mama Chief, nobody know when she go come back.

The way her people vanish, na only God fit explain. Church dey far, dem say na for one big cathedral for Suleja. Everybody dey wait make she return.

Olumide family dey pressure Olumide to marry. He reject all the big girls, insist say na me he go marry to pay back the life wey I save.

Dem bring big, big girls from Maitama, Wuse, even from Ibadan and Onitsha. But Olumide no gree. He stand like iroko, say na me.

That year, I just clock sixteen—my eye never open. I think say na destiny marriage, like the one for Nollywood film, I gree with joy.

My mates dey play ten-ten for backyard, me I dey measure wrapper for marriage. Inside my mind, I dey think say love go follow. Na lie o.

Suddenly, dem carry me put for high place, everybody dey whisper, dey look, dey wait for wahala. Me, I no know anything.

Dem dey arrange party, dey serve jollof and nkwobi. My hand dey shake when dem call me Madam for first time.

I no sabi say this marriage wey look good na just Olumide own way to show say him still loyal to Chiamaka. I no know say the main reason wey dem choose me as Madam Olumide na because I no get power, no get family, no papa, no mama. Dem fit drive me any time.

Na when rain beat chicken, you go know say feather no be cloth. Me I be easy person to push commot, nobody go fight for me.

Three years inside marriage, Olumide treat me cold, like say nothing join us. But I like the way e dey frown, the sharp eye wey he get, and that small sandalwood scent wey dey follow am.

Some nights, I go dey look am from bed, dey wonder if na charm dem use do me. I go dey miss am even when e dey for my front. The way e frown na like say e dey calculate wahala for head.

I think say na so e be, say e no too like to dey close to person.

That kain man wey like him own space, I tell myself say I go try adjust. Na so I dey bear am.

First year after we marry, na Olumide elders force us, we come finally do husband and wife thing. Na so I born Ifunanya.

Even for that one, dem call old women come, dey pray, dey pour anointing oil. "This house must hear cry of pikin!" After, I born Ifunanya, my only joy.

Apart from me, everybody know say Olumide never forget Chiamaka. I just dey for dark, until—

Na me last know. Everybody for family house dey talk in low voice. Me, I dey wonder why Olumide eye dey far even when body dey near.

Some months ago, as we dey together, Olumide bite my ear whisper, “Ngozi, give me another son.”

I dey blush like small girl. For my mind, I dey think say maybe e dey try love me again. My heart dey fly.

We still dey sweat, body dey hot, when suddenly—

I hear him loyal boy shout from outside: “Oga, Madam Chiamaka don come back!”

Na so everything scatter like beans for ground. My body cold, my heart jump.

Olumide just leave me, dress sharp-sharp, run commot.

I no even see am wear trouser well. Before I fit open mouth, he don waka. I tie wrapper anyhow follow, no even care if hair dey stand.

I shock, I no understand, I just dress anyhow follow am.

As I dey rush, house girls dey peep, some dey whisper. Rain begin fall as if God dey vex for me.

The house people dey look me with pity and small mockery.

One of them squeeze face, the other dey try hide laugh. I just waka pass, hold head high. Rain dey slap my face, I no fit talk.

Rain dey fall that night.

The type wey go make gutter overflow. For Abuja, rain get power; e fit wash away secret.

I see Olumide, always dey calm, run enter rain go meet one young woman. He carry her for hand, cover her from rain, like say if one drop touch am, e go pain am die.

I never see am rush like that. The way him eye dey shine, e be like say person wey don dey miss food for days see eba.

The rain heavy, I no fit see clear. Olumide waka pass me, carry Chiamaka.

Na for that moment, I feel invisible. My feet dey for mud, my body dey shake. Chiamaka wig dey perfect even for rain.

I just stand for rain like abandoned goat, water dey soak my body, shame dey soak my soul.

No umbrella, no nothing. I dey there, dey soak. Even thunder sef pity me that night.

One house girl finally bring umbrella. She no fit bear the shame for me, she whisper, “Madam, oga and that Madam Chiamaka... dem know each other since.”

Her eye dey red like say she wan cry for me. She help cover me small, voice low so others no go hear.

I fit dey naïve, but I no be mumu. That moment, I understand everything.

My heart break, but I lock am for inside. Na for this Naija, woman dey train herself to swallow pain like bitter medicine.

Olumide scent still dey my skin. I just dey feel dirty.

Na so I scrub that night, hot water, soap, even native sponge. But the dirt no dey go. Shame dey press my chest.

As I come back, I scrub myself taya. My hair still dey wet, I lie down, na so fever catch me.

Body dey burn, but my mind dey cold. I dey look ceiling, dey count how my life turn upside down.

Three days, I dey burn. That three days, Olumide dey with Chiamaka, him no come back.

Even the house girls dey avoid me. Na only small girl from kitchen dey bring me garri and pepper soup.

House girl carry my keepsake go find am, he no answer.

Na small locket I give am, tell am say "abeg, give oga." But na so she waka come back, shake head, say him no even collect.

Three days later, fever go. My foolish hope for Olumide vanish join.

Hope dry for my heart. Na that moment, I begin find small strength for myself.

When Olumide finally show, he carry one kind sweet scent—like aboniki balm mix with powder. E dey smell like Chiamaka, powder and perfume mix, like camphor wey dem keep for old Ghana-must-go. My nose no fit miss am.

He look my pale face, wan talk, I cut am—

I no let am talk. As my eye meet him own, my mind strong.

“Olumide, make we separate.”

My voice no shake. This time, I no gree beg.