Chapter 5: Letting Go of the Moon

I remember that night for prayer hall, sandalwood incense everywhere.

The thick scent, low candlelight, way shadow play for wall. I try remember if anything feel real.

Even when drugged and not himself, he still try not to touch me, his agbada still neat.

He fight spirit and flesh, hands trembling, eyes wild but soul still dey resist.

His red eyes cold like harmattan water.

Not passion, but cold—distance. Even as world dey spin, his gaze far away.

He only see me as ‘cure’.

No matter how I turn am for my mind, e still be like say I be medicine, not lover.

Thinking back—

I for wish I never step foot for that room. Even hope get limit.

He hold me tight, beg me not to leave…

Desperation dey make people do strange things. But when drug dey inside, true heart dey hide.

It was just the drug talking.

I tell myself, again and again. But pain no dey hear reason.

In his confusion, he think I be another person.

Maybe if my face fit change, or my name, maybe then he for truly see me. But na wishful thinking.

I foolishly think say na just his mouth dey tight, that he actually like me small.

Na lie I dey use comfort myself. Sometimes, na hope dey kill person more than truth.

Only after seeing am with Queen Adeyemi, I realise his coldness, his distance, na only for me.

The kind realisation wey dey clear cobweb for eye. My heart tear like old wrapper.

I quietly step away.

No drama, just slow steps away from door, my back to the voices wey no belong to me.

My nose sting as I look the blurry, faraway moon.

That moon—still hang, still beautiful, still unreachable. My tears dey salt my lips as I look up.

If I no fit reach the moon, make e just dey hang there; from now, I go just dey wish am well from afar.

Na so elders talk: If goat no fit reach cassava leaf, e go just dey look am. I go dey wish well from shadow.

Through the door, Queen Adeyemi sobs come in bits and pieces.

Each sound na reminder of love’s power, and love’s pain. I no fit block my ear enough.

“Ayotunde, you sabi how to make me sad.”

Her voice shaky, but na real. Not every queen fit drop pride for tears.

“You hate me? I think say you don cut off all feelings…”

The words heavy, like yoke for farmer neck. Truth dey hang between both of them.

“Back then, entering palace as queen na my family do am. You no know who I really wan marry?”

Family fit redirect river of destiny without ask permission.

“Na after I enter palace you turn pastor.”

The old story—the one people dey whisper, but never loud. Choices made in silence dey echo for generations.

I cover my ears, no wan hear.

But heartbreak no dey allow person rest; the words still cut deep.

But Queen Adeyemi cry, and that man low voice, still dey pierce my heart.

No matter how I try, I dey hear them—love na stubborn spirit.

After a while, Queen Adeyemi voice stop sudden.

The sudden hush, like storm end. My chest tighten.

Then I hear table get bumped…

Chairs shuffle, maybe bodies too. I force myself not to imagine.

After long time, Queen Adeyemi come out.

Her lipstick don smear.

Even palace grace fit scatter under true emotion. The stain bold, like mark of battle.

I look away, refuse to let myself overthink or feel sad for people wey no concern me.

Even if pain dey swallow me, I force face strong. No be my matter.

Just five days left…

I count the days like prisoner. Each sunrise na countdown to freedom and forgetting.

After five days, I go waka.

I no go ever come back.

This world—its dust, its pain, its moon—no go hold me again.

Adeyemi’s smile bright and sharp; she want make I notice something. She come stuff bottle of medicine for my hand:

Her eyes dey glint, like person wey dey boast, but pain dey deep inside. She press bottle to my palm as if marking territory.

“You know, as queen, I no dey come out of palace anyhow.”

Her voice high—pride and warning together. Na her way of telling me, "Remember who I be."

“Abeg, help me look after Ayotunde for me. He get cold character, always dey push people away. Aunty Amaka, just try tolerate am.”

The words na both insult and blessing. She dey remind me say she get right to worry about am, even from palace walls.

She introduce Ayotunde like she dey claim am.

Sometimes, power na silence. Sometimes, na just the way person take stand for room.

Me, the so-called ‘fiancée’—how e go be problem?

As if say my presence na fly for soup. I swallow the insult with small smile.

Compared to all the heartbreak before, I just quietly collect the medicine and nod.

No more fight. I fit only give what I never truly get.

Ayotunde run after me, look small anxious.

His steps quick, like man wey forget something important. I see the worry flash for his face, the way he bite lip.

I almost wan laugh.

If no be for pain, maybe I for find am funny. After all, who be I, to stand between history and its favourite child?

He think say I go fight am over the moonlight in his heart.

But who I be?

Even the moon self know say e get side.

“Queen Adeyemi and I no get anything. She only come because I save her.” Ayotunde explain to me for the first time.

His words careful, measured—like person wey dey weigh beans for market, afraid to overdo am.

My eyes drop, just in time to see lipstick stain on his white agbada.

The colour sharp—red for white, the kind sign you no fit hide. Na like sin wey refuse confession.

The bright colour look like flower bloom on his shoulder.

For brief moment, I wonder if even God dey laugh at my foolishness.

I still choke small.

Sometimes, silence dey loudest.

“Seems say the queen really comfort you well.”

I manage the words, voice low, eyes fixed on the floor.

Ayotunde notice the lipstick, face change, he frown and rub am hard.

His hand rough, scrubbing like say the stain dey his soul. But some marks, no matter how you rub, dem go remain.

“Amaka, no be wetin you think.” His tone turn calm, with small helplessness inside.

The kind voice people use when dey talk to stubborn child. Small sigh follow.

Like say I dey overreact.

Even the air dey join in the accusation.

“The queen trip for table and almost fall. I just help hold her. The lipstick for her mouth stain my agbada.”

Explanation simple, clean, but inside my heart, wound still dey bleed.

Ayotunde cold eyes dey stare me.

His gaze heavy, dey search for trust. My own eyes dey run.

All these years following am, I always dey insecure, always dey fear the end wey history book write.

I no fit erase prophecy. Each day na struggle to believe love fit conquer old story.

Because I come for am, he never understand…

My love na mystery to am—like secret language only I dey speak.

I still remember Ayotunde like snow for mountain, always gentle.

His gentleness cold—never warm enough to melt my doubt.

He say, one word at a time: “My heart belongs to God. E no go ever change, I no go enter the world for anybody.”

The final word. Like judge hammer for court, e seal fate.

I feel my heart break small-small, like old pot wey dey crack.

I hear this outside church, never return to Ayotunde side.

That time, I try call the system to leave, but nothing happen.

Even the system get mind. Maybe spirits self tire for my case.

When Ayotunde find me, my eyes swell from cry.

He look me with blank face, like person dey watch rain from inside—untouched.

His face show no emotion, he no comfort me.

No hand for my back, no soft word. Just silence.

He wait till I done cry before he speak quiet: “I don prepare jollof rice. If you no come back, e go cold. Cold food no dey sweet.”

Na the only warmth he fit give. Food over words, duty over feeling.

I return to am. I think say I go leave eventually.

But heart dey stubborn. Love dey make person remain, even when pain dey multiply.

But when e reach Queen Adeyemi reputation, he dey worry well.

His fear for her name fit move mountain. For my own, silence dey reign.

I blink away tears.

No tears for man wey no fit hold am. My resolve dey form, small-small.

Since I go soon leave, why bother?

I go pack my load, heart and all, and face my own future.

“Ayotunde, I believe you. I believe say nothing dey between you and the queen.”

But this time, na my turn to walk away.

Let the moon keep shining—I dey find my own sun now.