Chapter 2: Cinderella Upliftment Project

To gather money for marriage, I dey work part-time as wedding planner for my padi company.

The hustle no be beans. My boss, Sade, dey always say, "Amaka, you get touch. Na your hand dey make wedding dey sweet for Lagos." Me, I dey try. Every event, I dey put my soul, even though my own love life dey tumble.

Today, I go hotel for Ikeja to meet one big client.

The Grand Orchid na one kind correct place. Big people full there, the air conditioner cold die. I adjust my glasses, rub small shea butter for hand, dey reason how I go deliver.

As I dey wait for the bar, I hear one man dey yarn with play-play voice:

"Lanre, you never end your 'Cinderella Upliftment Project'?"

I no first think am na my own Lanre. The voice sharp, playful, with that Lagos twist wey boys dey use when dem dey feel on top.

"Your engagement with Musa family dey set, wedding self dey come."

Na instinct make me turn face small.

As I hear am, my heart beat quick. Na the same 'Lanre' name, but my brain dey push am say maybe na coincidence. Still, e dey do me like make I look the person well.

Lanre—the name na the same as my boyfriend own, but my Lanre na just medical equipment salesman.

But the voice wey reply na the one wey I sabi well.

Na that deep, steady voice wey dey make person relax. My own Lanre. No mistake.

"Why you dey rush? One month still remain."

"I self dey pity to leave Amaka."

As I hear am, cold just catch me. E be like say dem pour cold water for my body.

My hand dey shake, I hold my bag tight. The AC wey I dey complain about before, e come turn to freezer for my skin.

Amaka—na me be that.

The other guy just laugh anyhow.

Him laugh loud, like say dem just tell am the juiciest gist for Lagos.

"Na true love be this?"

Lanre sip palm wine slow slow.

I watch the way him hand steady, as if nothing dey worry am. E sip that palm wine like king wey no get wahala for this life. My own chest dey pound.

"Not really. Na just say our body dey match."

He talk am with small laugh, as if to say na play.

"And..."

Lanre lower him voice.

He bend small, mouth close to table, dey reason with the guy as if e no wan make the whole world hear. But I hear am, as if God push the words reach my ear.

"She get eye problem, no dey see well. So anytime I wan do my thing, she no dey quick react. She just dey take am like that."

I grip my phone sotay finger dey pain me. Shame and anger just dey battle for my mind. All the trust wey I dey hold, e dey slip.

"Omo, e no dey ever boring."

The guy laugh again.

E clap hand for table, the sound echo for my ear. Some other people for bar look their side, but dem no send. For inside Lagos, na so gist dey fly.

"That babe wey Garba family pikin chase before, dey dash her Benz, gold chain, still no gree."

He raise hand as if e dey count plenty suitors, shake head in wonder.

"Dem say she pure die. How you take chop your own from beginning?"

The gist dey sweet dem. Me, I dey feel my own heart break piece by piece.

Lanre just smile that mysterious smile.

Na the same smile wey I dey see for house, but now e get another meaning. As if e dey play game wey only him sabi the rule.

"All these home-trained girls, na only the man wey talk marriage dem dey open for."

He talk am with pride, like person wey discover formula for Lagos babes. The guy just dey nod, dey tap leg.

"I just buy one old, rough face-me-I-face-you, put only Amaka name for the paper."

He adjust collar, the guy whistle. "Baba, you try."

"She come dey emotional, think say I don risk everything for her. How she wan take say no?"

Lanre spread hand, like say e dey teach.

"Na so e be—if you wan move stubborn goat, you go show am yam."

He laugh, slap table small. The friend laugh too, clap hand, "Omo! Wisdom dey your side."

"Car or bag no fit show say you wan marry her, but if you buy house put her name, na real yam be that."

After all this talk, Lanre just bone, ask steward why Miss Musa never reach—no be say she suppose meet wedding planner with am?

He check time, look around. The confidence wey him voice carry, e clear say na him dey run show.

Na that time e shock me. The client wey I wan see today self, her surname na Musa.

The realization slap me for chest. My leg weak, I fit swear say ground dey shake. Lagos no dey ever finish drama.

Before you know, Lanre don carry trench coat, throw for shoulder.

He stand up with swag, the way big man go do. E snap finger for driver, grab bag like say e dey late for something important.

"Abeg, I dey go. Tell Zainab Musa make she do anything wey she like—just follow her."

E come tell driver:

"Oya, make we branch that cake shop for Allen Avenue."

The friend wey follow am just dey laugh.

"No get time to follow your fiancée talk wedding, but you dey rush go buy cheap cake for Cinderella?"

The guy raise brow, shake head, dey wonder which kind wahala be this. Me, I dey hide behind my file, no sure if I fit stand up.

Lanre just kick am.

He chuckle, push the guy leg small, "Abeg shift." His smile dey playful but e carry one kind weight for my mind.

Then e add, voice low small,

He lean back, sigh, voice drop. "If no be say she get eye wahala, I for no mind if my pikin carry her gene."

He pause, then voice soft, like say him dey really think am. "Even if my papa-mama no gree, I for still fight for her."

"Na pity sha..."