Chapter 1: Broken Vows, Broken Hearts

Ifeanyi and I dey inside this marriage wey our rich families arrange—no be love story like for Nollywood. My mama yarn me, “Child, for this life, sometimes na sense you go marry for, no be heart.” But as we siddon, the tension for the room fit choke pesin. Even with AC, sweat dey my back—Lagos heat no dey hear rich man machine. Okafor and Eze family dey exchange coded jokes, pepper soup full table, but my mind just dey count seconds till I fit escape.

The night we collect our marriage certificate, Ifeanyi stand for big window, dey smoke from beginning to end. Na there he drop am—say him like another person.

He held the cigarette like all those VI boys—one hand for pocket, smoke dey float enter breeze. He no try even soften the blow, just drop the matter like say na rain forecast. My hand grip chair arm, knuckles white. For my mind, I dey beg make ground open. My heart dey beat, but my face hard like stone.

That girl poor, get strong head, but her dignity no dey shake—even with her background.

You sabi these kain girls—dem dey carry market basket with pride, no gree anybody look down on them. Her wrapper always tight, market basket balanced for head, face shine with sweat but she dey walk like queen. Her eyes sharp, chin up, even if her slippers don chop rain. I just dey picture her—babe wey fit quarrel for danfo but still dey shine.

I keep quiet. I no tell am say I don dey crush on am since. Instead, I ask, “So, how we go run am now?”

Silence long like NEPA wahala for midnight. I wan ask, 'You even remember school days?' but pride hold me. Instead, my voice come out small but steady—enough make he hear me.

He smile small, voice far: “Make we give am two years. I no go allow anybody control my life again like this.”

His smile no reach him eye, like pesin wey dey wear masquerade mask. Air thick, suffocate, but I just nod slow, like say this kain thing dey normal for my side.

“When the time reach, we go divorce. But no worry, I go settle you and your Okafor family.”

Those words heavy for my chest. For my mind I dey reason—'Na wa o, so na business be this marriage?' I just keep quiet, squeeze palm till nail dig skin.

I agree.

My mouth just move, voice steady. "No wahala." But inside my heart dey shake like generator when fuel dey finish. I dey trained not to show weakness, at least not in front of Okafor pikin.

But when the day finally reach, he no let me go.