Chapter 7: Suya Memories and Schoolyard Tension

Car start dey move. As e dey shake, I sleep small, dream short dream.

Sleep carry me like breeze. For Lagos, sleep na luxury. But my body no fit hold.

For dream, I dey back of class.

Everything blur, but I fit still smell chalk and hear old school bell. Teacher dey for front, dey shout my name.

Teacher pair us for study—one on one. Me, second-to-last, suppose help Yanshu Musa, last for class.

That time, na me dem dey call small madam. I dey try help Musa, but him wahala too much. The pairing be like punishment.

That time, Yanshu Musa na school bad boy—everybody dey dodge am, always dey sleep or find trouble.

If e no dey sleep, e dey fight. If e no dey fight, e dey write song for back of notebook. Everybody dey fear am small.

As group leader, I try everything to make am read. Every day, na quarrel.

From extra lesson to after school, na beg, na shout, na prayer. Even one teacher suggest make I dey bribe am with meatpie.

After one month, exam result come out.

Everybody gather, dey wait for class list. Heart dey cut, people dey cry. The tension be like NECO result.

He climb second-to-last. Me, na last.

Na big disgrace. Everybody for class dey laugh, dey clap hand. I wan hide under table.

That day, I cry tire.

Na so I run go back of school, dey wipe face with scarf. No be say I fail, but na shame dey pain me.

Yanshu Musa tire for my wahala, so to make me shut up, he carry me go chop suya after school.

He drag me go junction suya spot, the smoke dey rise, pepper dey choke eye, but the meat sweet. He buy the biggest stick, hand me Fanta. I no even smile, but inside, I dey happy small.

"Just chop. You don already last—e no fit bad pass this."

He dey laugh, but the laugh soft. E no dey mock. Na just the way him dey talk.

"Me? I no send. Whether I read or not, my papa no even care. Na him other pikin dey reign for am."

He voice dey low, but I fit feel the pain. I dey reason say, even tough guy dey get soft spot.

"Abeg, why I go apply for music school? I don drop that guitar since."

He talk like person wey don give up. E pain me, but I no fit force am.

"No dey hear, no dey hear, na tortoise dey talk."

Na so I dey nag. I just dey hope say e go get sense one day.

"Ijeoma, whether I read or not, no concern you. I even regret say I buy you suya—pay me back."

He dey form, but I know say e care small. The suya sweet that day.

...

Yanshu Musa dey always ask why I dey force am read. He no know.

He dey think say na just wahala, but I dey see something for am wey he no dey see.

Because I don see another side of am before: sharp for book, dey write song, full of passion.

I remember one time for school talent show, e play guitar, everybody shock. That version of Musa dey hide for inside.

I just want that Yanshu Musa come back.

I no fit explain why, but my spirit dey push me. E pain me say e dey waste talent.

Na pity. Na real pity.

But for this dream, I dey wish say I fit change time. Na God hand dey everything.

Ten minutes later, we reach school.

Bus park for front, everybody dey rush come down. Camera crew dey form line, dey check equipment. Sun dey shine well, but breeze dey cool small—harmattan never reach, but sweat dey body.

I sleep all the way, so I no know say Yanshu Musa dey look me since.

Na only when I come down, I notice say his eye dey follow me for mirror. E shock me, but I bone face.

Live show start again.

Director dey shout, "Standby! Quiet on set!" Light dey on, everybody dey sweat.

Other guests enter school from front gate.

Dem dey wave, dey form for camera, dey do like say dem be king and queen. Some dey snap selfie again.

But Yanshu Musa—as "underachiever," even to enter school, dem give am challenge.

Director dey shout task: "Solve puzzle or do fifty push-ups—choose one."

People dey whisper, dey bet which one e go pick.

Comments dey pity am:

[Pick puzzle o! Push-up go tire you.]

Some dey drag him for comment, dey reason say music people no dey strong for gym.

[But puzzle slow. Old Musa strong—just do push-up!]

Na so debate dey fly. Everybody wan prove point.

Camera just dey follow am, like say na big decision.

Camera man dey zoom, dey wait for his move. Na live suspense.

But Yanshu Musa... no pick any.

He just stand, look ground, raise eyebrow, then waka go another direction. People for set dey confuse.

He just look around, climb wall enter school.

Before security fit shout, na so e jump. Na old school corner—na the same wall wey we dey jump when we dey dodge senior prefect that year. He sabi all the routes.

"Underachiever suppose use underachiever way."

He dey talk am with boldness. I dey laugh inside—na so Musa dey do for school those days.

For camera, he sit for top wall, stubborn, bold—just like old days.

The pose na pure secondary school bad boy. E fit trend for meme.

Suddenly, he look my side, eye flash.

He dey scan my face, as if he dey check if na the Ijeoma wey he know.

"Give me your hand," he talk.

His voice calm, but e dey command. I dey surprise, but na work.

As VJ, I no get choice.

I dey pray make my hand no shake. Camera dey roll.

As our hand jam—

E be like say small current run for my body. Na old feeling, na new fear join.

"Aunty Ijeoma, you remind me of person."

The words slow, but e hang for air. Everybody dey look. I dey reason say e wan expose me.

I look up, confuse. "Who?"

I try act innocent. My mind dey work overtime.

He look me, eye soft, like breeze dey blow memory. "Nobody. I just feel say today go better."

His eye dey shine small, smile dey face. My heart dey skip. I dey wonder if na me dey reason.

Wetin dey do am?

The question dey my head. E be like say air thick for where we stand.

My head dey spin. Before I know, he don pull me up.

The strength surprise me. He dey gentle, but his grip strong.

Director team confuse. After small time, the person wey act security finally rush come.

The security dey look us like say na film dem dey act. Director dey shout for earpiece.

We jump down, hide for water room, squat together for small space, stay there long.

The place dark, cold. My back dey press wall, heart dey beat. Water drip from pipe, the sound steady, cold dey bite my leg—na only cockroach fit survive here.

NPC waka round tire before comot. I sigh relief.

Breath come out, loud. I dey thank God say wahala pass.

I turn, see Yanshu Musa dey look me, like say he dey think deep.

For that dull light, we dey very close—heart dey beat loud.

Our face near each other, I fit smell him cologne. I dey swallow spit.

I swallow. "...Aunty Musa, you dey alright?"

My voice low, but e dey carry plenty question.

He smile small, then reach up, collect secret treasure wey dem hide for top cabinet above my head.

E sharp, e use sense. Even camera crew no see am reach there.

"Aunty Ijeoma, I tell you—today go good."

The way e talk am, na confidence. E get as e dey warm my chest.

That moment, comments scatter:

People dey shout for live stream. Some dey tag each other, dey drop love emoji.

[Ahhh, wetin dey happen here?]

Online people dey gist, dey ship new couple.

[I dey laugh die—Old Musa first time for variety show, he dey use style toast VJ.]

Everybody dey ship us already. My friend send me screenshot for WhatsApp.

[I like these two together o, abeg.]

Even people wey no sabi me dey join mouth. I just dey shy inside.

...

I no know wetin dey worry Yanshu Musa.

The way e dey look me, the small smile, the gentle touch. My head dey turn.

I just reason say him dey act one kind.

Maybe na show e dey play. Or maybe na me dey think too much.

After wahala finish, we comot water room, jam Shamsiya for junction.

Her perfume loud, her step strong. As she see say camera dey, she switch pose, dey form queen.

She suppose go library, but as she see say na me be Yanshu Musa VJ, she change mind, follow am.

E shock me. The girl sabi how to position herself for limelight.

For corridor, she squeeze pass me, block my camera on purpose.

Her shoulder brush me, but I no talk. Na Naija we dey—if you talk, dem go say you dey jealous.

"Musa, I be your fan o! I don listen to all your songs."

She dey sing am loud, dey hope say camera catch am well. But I know say e no reach like that.

Lie—she no even like music. Which fan?

I remember that year for school, na only RnB she dey play. Musa own no enter her playlist.

"Na so."

Yanshu Musa just smile small. E no even look her for face. I dey laugh inside.

"True! You suppose put me for your next MV. I sabi act and shoot o. I even work for backstage before."

Na so she dey sell herself. E fit be true, but I know say na hype.

"No wahala." Yanshu Musa smile. "If I see chance, I go remember you."

His voice dey cool, but no promise dey there. I fit sense say e no too send.

He stop outside classroom, pause, open door.

He dey scan room before e enter, dey check for hidden camera or trap.

Shamsiya no follow. When another VJ dey do b-roll, she block me, off her chest mic, whisper:

Her eye sharp, voice low. Na threat, but e sound like joke.

"I remember say you be Yanshu Musa fan, abi? No be you camp for days just to buy ticket for his seven-year concert?"

She dey smile, but the smile cold. I dey wonder how she take get the info.

She bend mouth smile. "See am now. I dey gist with am anyhow, you just dey look. E pain you, abi?"

She dey try enter my skin, dey use old story dey poke me. I just dey reason say God dey watch everybody turn.

"Abeg, just beg me, say you wrong, I go tell am dash you concert ticket. How e be?"

She dey form queen, but I just dey look. I no fit beg. My pride no go allow me.

No need.

I dey shake head. I dey hold camera firm, no wan lose my cool.

I just point camera for her face.

My own na evidence. If anybody wan lie, make dem see the truth.

She freeze, but quick on her mic, smile. "You sure say you be professional VJ? You dey follow wrong person o. I no be Yanshu Musa."

She dey switch back to sweet girl for camera. Everybody dey buy am, but I know say na package.

She rush enter classroom.

She walk sharp, heels dey click for ground. I dey wonder if she go ever rest.

Yanshu Musa dey search corners, focus.

His eye dey sharp, finger dey tap table, like say him dey calculate.

Shamsiya look around, bored, sit for desk. "Musa, you look like correct student. Teachers go like you well, abi?"

She dey try spark gist. But her voice get small edge.

"Lie."

Yanshu Musa no even look up. "I be proper underachiever. Even school dog no send me. Na later I change small."

He dey tell the truth, no sugar. Everybody dey laugh small for background.

"For real?" She open eye. "Why you change? Na because of that girl dem talk about—the one wey get leukemia?"

Her voice drop. The whole room cold. Even I dey feel the tension.

Yanshu Musa hand pause.

His knuckle tight. The room silent, only AC dey hum—everybody dey hold breath, dey wait for his reaction.

Nobody expect Shamsiya go mention that rumor like that.

Camera crew dey freeze. Producer dey shout for earpiece.

He always dodge that talk, and her question no make sense at all.

Even audience dey shift for chair. E get as the tension dey.

Shamsiya sef shock, quick cover mouth. "Sorry..."

She dey look ground. E clear say she no mean make the thing loud.

Everybody just hold breath, dey wait for his reaction.

You fit hear a pin drop. E be like court room.

But—

He quiet small, eyes flash, then talk: "Yes."

His voice low, but steady. You fit feel say e dey talk truth.

Like say he wan confirm am, he stand well, look camera, talk slow:

His voice deep, no shake. Everybody dey quiet, dey wait next line.

"If no be her, I for still dey useless."

He talk am like person wey dey swear oath. You fit see say e mean am.

"So, I thank her well."

He nod, face camera. Tears dey his eye, but e hold am.

Comments burst:

People dey drop all kind of reaction. Some dey cry, some dey pray, some dey hail am.

[Ah! Na true!]

[Old Musa story too pain—work hard because of love, but the girl no dey again. I dey cry.]

The chat dey run mad. People dey tag each other, dey share screenshot.

[He dey donate to leukemia patients for her sake, still dey blame himself say he no hold her. My heart dey break...]

Online people dey organize prayer, dey set up hashtag. You go think say na real life funeral.

Live viewership hit another level.

Numbers dey jump. Even producer dey smile.

I just stand, shock, chest dey tight.

My leg dey weak. My mind dey spin. Tears dey my eye, but I dey hide am.

So na really for that girl.

The confirmation heavy. E weigh for my chest. I dey reason say, "Na so love dey strong?"

He finally become the person I want—but e no get anything to do with me.

My heart dey pain. The thing choke me. But I just dey smile for camera, dey play my role.

Memory just flood me.

Old gist, old feeling, all dey return. My head dey do slow motion.

Like say I dey that dark classroom again.

The smell of chalk, the cold bench, the sound of ceiling fan. Everything dey clear for my head.

"Yanshu Musa, today na my birthday."

I talk am with hope. My mind dey reason say maybe this one go make am change.

He reply normal: "Your birthday? Why you no talk before? I wish make you remain eighteen forever. I go give you your gift tomorrow."

His voice calm, but his eye dey sharp. I dey blush small. That year, nobody ever wish me like that.

"I no want anything. I just want make you start dey read from today, abeg."

My voice dey shake, but my heart dey hope say na today change go happen.

"Na all?"

He dey surprise, but na truth. Na all I want.

"Na all."

I smile. For my mind, na the biggest wish.

Eighteen-year-old Yanshu Musa look me long, then nod. "Okay."

That "Okay" sweet me. E be like say sun shine inside my chest.

I no fit explain how happy I be that time.

Na the first time I believe say person fit really change for another person.

...But the day we suppose read, he dey snooker hall, tear workbook finish.

I find am there, my heart break. I dey cry, he dey vex.

I cry, beg am: "Yanshu Musa, abeg stop this fight. Do your homework before you fight, ehn?"

He just tire.

His voice weak. E look me, eye red. Na only pain dey show.

He say, Who you think say you be?

E shock me. I no get answer.

True, who I be?

I dey reason, dey look my own hand. Wetin I be for am, for myself?

Wetin I worth?

My mind dey run. I dey ask God say, "Na me cause am?"

Sun dey blink as Yanshu Musa look down, unlock phone.

My eye dey follow him hand. He dey search for something, like say he dey chase ghost.

"But she no dey again."

His voice low, but e echo for the room.

"If I know, I for no wish make she remain eighteen forever."

He talk am like person wey regret deep. My chest dey shake.

I look up, my head dey pound.

I dey see double. My hand dey cold. Na only faith dey hold me.

Wetin he just talk?

I dey repeat the words for my head. The meaning dey heavy.

PD voice buzz for my ear: "Zoom in, waitin you dey wait for?"

I shock, almost forget my job. I adjust camera, try focus, but my mind dey fly.

I quick focus, carry camera pass his phone.

My hand dey shake. I dey pray make camera no fall.

But as I see the picture, I freeze.

My legs dey weak. My eyes dey wide. I dey sweat under AC.

Yanshu Musa dey look me, eyes dey shine with tears.

The look no be joke. The pain real. E dey show for his face.

"Aunty Ijeoma, I hear say you go this school too. You don see her before?"

His voice soft, e dey beg. I dey wonder wetin I go talk. My mouth dey dry.

Everywhere quiet.

The silence loud. All eyes dey on me and the phone.

Shamsiya come lean check the photo.

She dey stretch neck, dey try see well. Her face dey curious.

"Eh? You get mole for nose before? When you remove am? The girl face dey blur, I no fit see well, but if you look well, she resemble..."

Her mouth hang open. Her face change like person see juju. The matter don clear for her eye. Everybody dey wait for answer.