Chapter 2: Tension Thick Like Ogbono Soup

That midsummer night get small cool breeze.

Mosquitoes dey buzz, but the room still feel tight. Everybody dey tiptoe around words, the tension thick like ogbono soup—everybody dey choke. Since Tunde Jinadu enter, he never talk anything.

I siddon one side, small fear dey catch me.

My leg dey shake under chair, and the wrapper wey I take tie chest dey sweat small for armpit. I just dey peep the old calendar wey hang for wall, counting the flowers on top out of nervousness.

Aunty Grace hold my hand, squeeze am like say make I no worry.

Her palm warm, rough small from years of market work, her wrist dey jangle with those red plastic bangles wey market women like, but her grip strong. I smell the camphor from her clothes as she adjust herself, ready to fight on my behalf.

She turn face Tunde Jinadu: “If you no wan settle, abeg end am quick. Seven years don waka—so you still dey plan to marry or you dey play?”

Her voice loud, words dey shake the window. She no dey hide mouth, her eyes dey fire like she fit burn table with look.

“Na only Ifeoma get better character. She no dey vex.”

Aunty Grace voice get that respect wey women for compound dey fear, but the truth inside am dey strong. I shift leg small, dey shame but still dey grateful for her mouth.

“But na because she love you, no mean say everything wey you dey do correct.”

The air tight, like say the generator for next compound just stop, silence heavy.

Aunty Grace vex so till her cheeks red. “How I take born person like you!”

I tap her back. “No worry, really. No be something wey dey rush.”

But she no gree, hiss, wave her hand for air. The room smell of Izal and hot pepper soup.

“How you go talk say no rush?” She turn to me. “This boy don spoil your life finish. If he no wan take responsibility, I no go let am rest!”

Her voice dey shake, but her slippers don ready—she fit follow me fight for Oshodi if e reach. Tears dey her eyes but she stubborn, no let them fall.

“I just no understand.”

“Wetin he really want sef!”

She dey open and close her lighter, the snap just dey echo her anger.

She flick the lighter, the flame quick off and on, her fingers restless, as if she wan burn her own vex.

Tunde Jinadu face cold as usual. After Aunty Grace finish, na so he just hiss, look up: “Fine, make we marry.”

He stand up. “Arrange am as you want.”

Him voice dey flat, like person wey dey read exam he no study for. The way he stand, chest out, like soldier wey dem just punish.

He waka go upstairs, no even look my side.

My stomach twist like when NEPA take light for exam night. I lower my head, talk small to Aunty Grace, then rush follow am upstairs.

I fit hear the wood for staircase dey cry under my leg, every step loud for my ear. My heart dey drum, palms dey sweat.

Water dey run for him bathroom.

The sound loud, as if he wan wash vex commot from skin.

Tunde Jinadu dey baff.

I siddon for bed, dey look ground, my mind far.

“You no wan marry?”

I talk am under breath, almost like whisper. For my mind, I dey beg God make the answer no break me.

The water too loud; he no fit hear me.

When the water stop, he open the door, na only towel dey his waist.

“Wetin you talk?”

Water still dey drip from him hair, roll pass him sharp eyebrow go chest.

My face just red immediately.

I cover face with hand, pretend say I dey find something for bag. My heart dey run marathon.

For some seconds, I just dey stammer, words no gree come out.

When Tunde Jinadu finish change, I squeeze my eyes shut, dey count sheep for my mind.

Until him big hand land for my head. “I don wear cloth. You fit open your eyes.”

His hand soft, heavy. I breathe in him aftershave wey get small lemon smell, that one wey Aunty Grace buy for Christmas.

I open am small small.

He don arrange, come squat down make our eyes meet. “Wetin you wan talk?”

His eyes dey search my own, like say he dey try read my heart. My stomach twist like when NEPA take light for exam night.

“You no wan marry?”

“No.” He look another side, stand up, pick him dirty cloth. “No dey think too much.”

But I sabi say na lie.

Tunde Jinadu no even want marry at all.

I wan talk say make we shift wedding, or say I no dey rush, but words just choke me, remain only bitter taste for my throat.

My tongue dey dry. I just swallow spit, my chest dey heavy as if I swallow stone.

I no fit stay that room again. I just wan comot quick.

My leg just dey move before my brain. My slippers dey drag for tile as I dey waka go door.

“Okay, I go sleep first.”

He hold my hand, frown. “You wan sleep for another room?”

The way he grip my wrist strong, but no pain me. I fit see the small vein for him hand.

He reach hand, lift my chin. “You dey cry?”

“No.”

“I dey do wetin you want, wetin else you still want from me?” Tunde Jinadu just vex, him face cold. “If na wahala you wan do, abeg do am.”

His voice loud, but e get that break inside, like glass wey dem force bend. For seven years, I never hear am talk like that.

For our seven years together, e no dey talk to me like that.

But maybe the way dem dey disturb am about marriage don make am tire—this na the first time wey he show true feelings for my front.

I shock, feel like say dem naked me for public.

My hand dey shake, my heart just dey scatter. Shame mix with anger, I feel small, like pikin wey dem flog for outside.

He no look my side again, just open door waka comot.

Only the faint smell of him soap remain, dey remind me wetin happen tonight.

The scent of soap, mixed with his stubbornness, just linger for the room like bad memory. The bulb dey blink, wahala no gree rest.

After that, Tunde Jinadu and me no ever mention that night again.

We no talk about shifting wedding.

He just dey quiet pass before. Even when we dey choose wedding dress, he no even send.

He dey busy till midnight. If I message am, na after long he go reply: “Busy.”

Sometimes e go just drop 'ok' or 'seen,' no even bother to ask how I dey. The air between us thick, like smoke from burning refuse.

He no come house for Aunty Grace birthday too.

Everybody dey laugh, try cover up, but inside we know—na Tunde Jinadu way be that to show say he dey vex for Aunty Grace.

I just pretend say nothing dey wrong, force myself to dey smile.

I laugh loud pass everybody, carry jollof for plate, but my throat dey scratch, and my eye no shine.

Until, one day some weeks later, I wake see am dey look him phone like person wey no get hope.

He sit for corner of bed, phone light dey show for him face, eyes red. I know say something dey heavy for him mind.

“Why you no sleep?”

I try stand, but he quick hide him phone.

He slide phone under pillow, hiss small. Him voice sharp, as if he dey fear make I see wetin dey inside.

“Sleep.”

But for that small second, I see the picture wey dey him screen.

Na photo of seventeen-year-old Tunde Jinadu and seventeen-year-old Morayo together.

She wear yellow Ankara with big smile, him hand rest for her shoulder. My chest cold.

I turn my back, feel like say cold just enter my bone.

My body dey freeze, I curl for bed, dey bite my tongue make I no cry.

I remember, years back, him childhood friend use nose look me: “So what if he dey with you? You no fit reach Sister Morayo level.”

He drag the last word: “Fat pig.”

That time, wetin I dey think? I believe say if I just try, Tunde Jinadu go love me one day.

Say he go love me at last.

I remember those prayers I dey pray under my pillow, those fasting wey no reach heaven. My heart stubborn, believe say love go grow like ugu leaf for rainy season.

But now, the truth just dey my front.

My heart dey pain like needle dey pinch am.

So, he never forget Morayo.

All the strong face wey I dey form since just fall.

Suddenly, I no wan marry again.

I wan break up with Tunde Jinadu.

I bite my lips till e red, my mind dey roll, tears dey my eye. I fit hear the cockroach for ceiling. My soul just dey tired.