Chapter 7: Peace with Expiry Date

Na the next evening I see Ifeanyi again.

I dey go kitchen, slippers for leg, pyjamas long, na there I jam am for staircase.

I wear pyjamas, dey come downstairs, jam am for passage.

He stand, one hand for pocket, face serious. For a second, he forget say na me. He just dey think deep.

He stiff, look me, like pesin wey forget himself for one second.

He look up, recognize me, clear throat. Small smile try show for mouth, but e no last.

I no ask about Halima.

I just smile, siddon for staircase edge, pretend dey browse phone.

But this time, na Ifeanyi bring her up.

He clear throat, voice low. "Halima dey okay now."

After he talk, he look up, add, “She say make I explain give you—on your birthday, e no dey intentional. She no know say na Okafor family be that.”

Voice soft, as if dey beg forgiveness on her behalf. I see say matter dey pain am too.

I surprise small, look Ifeanyi.

I no expect am to bring topic up. But I appreciate honesty. E show say small change dey happen.

After while, I nod. “Okay, I hear.”

I mean am. No need fight. Some things pass quarrel.

After that day, because of Halima, me and Ifeanyi somehow come dey close.

We dey share small jokes, sometimes eat together, sometimes talk news. I no know if na friendship or just understanding, but the air light small. Na so life be sometimes—pain fit lead to peace. But peace get expiry date, and in Lagos, secrets no dey sleep for long.