Chapter 3: Love Like Film

Most people lose that bet.

Because as e be, me and Kunle just dey cruise like say na film. Our own just dey smooth, even him guys dey wonder.

Na another level e reach with me. Normally, Kunle dey form busy, dey ghost babe for days. With me, na everyday, either lunch or dinner. One time, I get lab till late, rain dey fall, he wait for me almost one hour for school gate. I feel bad, I wan treat am, e hold my sleeve, dey laugh: "Your boyfriend wan chop for cafeteria."

After that, he look me for face, voice soft: "E go?" E be like say e dey ask if I fit follow am dey normal life, no stress myself. I hear say for school, Kunle dey proud, no dey enter cafeteria, na so so restaurants. But for me, e shift ground.

Na big man pikin, true, but he dey humble when e reach my matter. Sometimes, I dey reason, maybe na me dey bring out that side.

We no break up, our relationship begin shock people for campus. By third month, Oga don rent house near my school. Gist begin fly. People dey use our gist do late-night talk.

We dey spend time together steady, like say we dey on honeymoon. He set home theater, buy big TV, we go just dey cuddle, dey watch Korean series, dey argue about which character get sense. If I like one film, he go carry jotter, dey write review like say na exam. The thing dey sweet me.

Him grandpapa na famous artist. From childhood, e learn how to draw. Sometimes, when breeze dey blow, Kunle go bring sketchpad, just dey draw me. E go say, "Stay like that, no move, make I catch this your dimple."

One drawing wey I no fit forget—girl under mango tree, books for hand, smile dey shine, eyes full of dreams. I always dey wonder, that time we meet, shyness dey my body, but for that drawing, my spirit dey bold—like say Kunle see wetin I hide from everybody. Sometimes, I wan ask am, but I dey shy.

Later, that night reach.

Na the first time we sleep together.

I get wahala with my research, data dey scatter, frustration dey show. He just dey beside me, hand dey tap my waist gently: "You get am?" E dey patient, no rush me, just dey help decode some grammar.

Suddenly, as I solve the problem, my whole body relax, na so I hug am tight. He look me, eyes dey serious, then he kiss me, lips cold like early morning harmattan.

E dey shake small, dey try form macho, but I feel am. He call my name, "Amaka." I answer, "Mm."

Halfway through, e lower him voice, talk slow, like old Yoruba proverb wey elders dey use for family meeting: "That first day we meet, the way you just stand, I dey reason say I must draw you one day."

I laugh, kiss him neck, tease am: "You dey use this line for all your babes?"

Inside the gist and laugh, we dey remember the first time we jam—like say na destiny.

He click tongue, hold me tight, talk: "Go ask anybody—who reach this level with me before?"

Na true. As things dey hot, laugh begin turn to tears, I just dey cry for him chest. The thing choke me. You know when something sweet pass your power?

September for Ibadan, everywhere cool, rain dey fall, social media full of pictures of people for Olumo Rock. I disturb Kunle, say make we go see the place. E run finish work, clear one day for me. As we dey climb that rock, he dey hold my hand, make sure say I no slip. All these small things dey enter my body.

But as I dey reason am now, I dey ask: for this life, who never fall before? E dey part of the journey.

That time, I really like am—no two ways.