Chapter 1: When Old Love Trend Like New Gist

On the fifth anniversary of my breakup with Suleiman Anjorin, everywhere online suddenly dey carry our old love matter for head again. Even my neighbor for compound dey knock gate, dey ask if na me she dey see for Twitter.

E be like say na spiritual call dem use, because even people wey never know us before begin dig our old story. As I dey scroll Twitter, I dey see my name and Suleiman own dey shine for trend, people dey drop hot takes like pepper soup wey never cool. Na wah, this Nigeria, person no fit just chop break up in peace again.

My phone dey hot like akara oil—notification no gree rest. For the trending video, my twenty-three-year-old self dey wear one heavy mascot costume, sweat just dey pour from my body but I still dey smile for camera:

I remember say that mascot suit na wahala—na one big chicken costume sef, the one wey children dey fear for party. As I dey wave for camera, small pikin dey pull my tail from back, but I just dey form big girl, dey manage smile.

"Hi, Ifeoma Chukwuma at thirty-three—abeg, you don go honeymoon with Suleiman Anjorin? Work dey tire person, you gats collect this debt from Suleiman, you hear so?"

People for comment that year just dey laugh, dey hail my energy. Some even dey use the video as meme anytime dem wan talk about hustle.

No be so.

Na true talk. Life no follow script. Sometimes, e be like say universe just dey laugh for person head. Everybody dey expect Cinderella ending, but na only shoe dem go see for door.

I no collect am back.

I fit remember how my friend Joke that time dey use am tease me. "Ifeoma, no worry, your own go beta," she go talk as she dey help me wash the sweat off my neck. But even Joke no fit imagine wetin go happen later.

By thirty-three, Ifeoma Chukwuma don tey wey Suleiman Anjorin leave am behind.

I fit count am for finger—na like old wound wey no dey pain again, but scar still dey show. As I dey watch my old self for that video, na small laugh just commot for my mouth. I wan laugh, but tears dey hide for corner—Naija internet dey remind person of old wound, sharp sharp.