Chapter 3: Forming, Hunger, and Phone Calls

We really become seatmates, and e dey worry me die.

Every time I sit with her, my body go dey restless. Sometimes, I go dey wish say teacher go separate us.

But she dey go about dey tell people say I good, say we be classmates for junior secondary.

She dey run her mouth anyhow, dey boost my image. Sometimes, she go hail me for assembly, dey talk say I dey help her for book.

At first, everybody believe am.

People begin dey see me as sharp guy. My respect for class increase small. I dey confused, but I no talk.

I no wan spoil my name, so when people ask, I just nod anyhow.

Sometimes, na better make you keep quiet. If you argue, wahala fit start.

She still dey boast.

The boasting never finish. If you give am small chance, she go use am talk about herself till class finish.

Boast say her mama love her.

Any small thing, na her mama matter. "My mama say, my mama do..." E dey tire person.

Boast for class, boast for essay, write am with so much feeling, even our English teacher almost cry.

One time for essay, she write story about her mama, the thing touch everybody. Teacher dey wipe tears, even classmates dey nod. Me I dey look, dey wonder if na the same person I dey see every day.

She repeat am, repeat am, classmates just dey look am like film.

After every story, people go just dey look, some go dey laugh, others dey pity. Her voice dey always carry emotion, like say she dey perform for Nollywood.

I find am funny.

For my mind, e dey like drama. Sometimes I dey wonder if na true, sometimes I just dey laugh.

E dey clear who dem dey love for house.

No be only me notice. If you watch her, you go know say all those story na just cover. E no easy for her at all.

Every week when we dey put money for cafeteria card, I never see her own, at least for one month.

People dey ask, she go just dodge. She go waka slow, dey smile, but nothing dey enter her card.

No matter how cheap food be, even vegetable na fifty naira, bread na twenty naira, free soup no dey do anything. Sometimes you go see her manage one small buns, or she go dey lick groundnut.

She dey manage life, but pride no go let her collect help from anybody. Sometimes, hunger go wire her, but she no go beg.

She dey try turn herself to spirit?

The way she dey waka ehn, you go think say she wan disappear. For class, na only her shadow dey waka.

Sometimes I go purposely buy extra bread or puff-puff, talk say I no fit finish am.

I dey always drop food for table, dey act like say I no get appetite. Sometimes I go even push am near her.

She go form reluctant: “Okay, I go chop one. My mama no dey allow me chop another person food.”

She go talk am with style, eye dey look ground. Na pride dey talk, but hunger dey inside her eye.

She get one old phone, talk say her mama buy am from abroad, but e dey spoil every time, she dey always borrow one or two hundred naira from classmates to put credit.

That phone na old Nokia, e be like brick. She go dey complain, but still dey manage am. Any small change she see, na recharge card she dey buy.

The phone na nonsense, but she like to dey call her mama.

No matter the wahala, she go look for way call her mama. E be like say na ritual for her. Sometimes before she dial, she go whisper small prayer: "God, make this call go through."

Every night by nine, when her phone don off, she go borrow my own to call her mama. I no dey ever give am.

Sometimes, I go pretend say my battery low, just to avoid her wahala. But she go still find way.

So she go borrow from the boys and girls for back, people wey no even like her, just to call her mama.

People dey always tire for her request. But every night, you go see her dey beg, dey collect phone up and down.

When she return phone, she go wipe the number sharp sharp: “No choice, my mama dey worry me, she wan make I dey call her every day. I go delete the number now, my mama dey busy, if you mistakenly call her, e no go good.”

She dey form sharp babe, dey act like say her mama na Minister. She no want make anybody disturb her so-called important mama.

But when I check call log, call no ever connect.

I even dey monitor sometimes, but nothing dey happen. She go dey press, dey talk to herself, but the line no go ring.

How she go dey talk long if call no go?

I dey wonder, but I no talk. The lie dey too much.

Na so so forming.

The forming dey high. Sometimes, I dey pity her. For her mind, she dey cover pain with lie.

And lie join.

The way she dey twist story, you go think say she dey live for heaven. But me, I sabi the real life.

I no even get time to expose her, make she no stop to dey allow me copy her notes.

As long as I dey benefit, I dey calm. Life na manage.

One night, she use my phone, class fine girl waka pass, press speaker.

E be like say the matter go burst. Class fine girl na wahala herself. She get mouth, dey find trouble.

Na so so busy tone just dey come out.

The phone dey talk busy, but nothing dey connect. I just dey look.

Class fine girl burst laugh.

Her laugh loud, e scatter everywhere. Even teacher for corridor hear.

She wink me: “Abeg, na first time I dey hear busy tone dey talk. You don ever hear am before? She dey always find excuse borrow your phone, still dey say she no like you?”

She dey make everybody laugh. My body dey hot, but I hide am.

Her padi come begin sing old song: “Like you.”

The chorus loud, boys for back dey clap hand. Wahala dey brew.

Half class start dey shout.

“Like you.” “Like you.”

Everybody dey join mouth. Even teacher no fit control dem.

“Dem say una be seatmates for junior secondary.”

“Dem say her family get big flat, congrats o, son-in-law.”

“Hehe, and special keyboard room, dem too get money.”

People dey use her own boasting dey mock am, the thing dey sweet dem.

“Her mama love am die, mother-in-law love son-in-law pass... see ehn—”

“She never wash her own pant till she be thirteen, you sef no go wash your own.”

As the mocking dey go, I dey try hide my own shame. The thing dey pain me too, but na she dey collect most of the fire.

Her mouth open, tears just full her eye, but all she fit talk be: “My mama really dey treat me well. She really... really dey treat me well since I small, abeg no talk like that. My family really get big flat, na my mama decorate the keyboard room—every day two hours practice, if e no do, she go teach me, this scar, na love make she beat me...”

As she talk, her voice dey shake, her hand dey tremble. I see say the pain deep, but na only her dey know. The tears no gree fall, but her eye red.

She no talk anything about like or no like, just dey repeat her mama story.

She dey use the only thing she get hold on to—her mama story—like say e go wipe away the laughter.

Bzzz bzzz bzzz, bzzz bzzz bzzz.

The class still dey hot. Some dey laugh, some dey quiet. The mocking just dey hover for air.

My head just hot, I bang table: “Even if you like me, me I no send you, abeg see yourself.”

As I talk, the whole class quiet small. The words heavy. I see her eye, the pain deep.

My chest dey tight, I dey wish say I fit swallow my words like cold garri.

As I talk am, I begin regret.

My mind no settle. I know say I cross line, but I no fit talk sorry.

I mean her character.

No be her as person, but the way she dey behave. Still, the thing too harsh.

But Halima just quiet, look me for eye.

Her eye dey sharp. No word, but I see plenty pain for inside.

I no fit look her back, no fit say sorry, just vex, push boys wey dey make noise, comot.

I waka out, make the matter cool. The shame choke me.