Chapter 1: Last Night Before Everything Scatter

On the eve of WAEC, Hauwa—the new girl wey Sani Garba dey follow—vex again.

Mosquitoes dey hum for my window net as I count my remaining exercise books inside my metal box. For this our area, news dey fly faster than harmattan breeze—so before day break, neighbours go already sabi say Sani Garba don cause another scene. My heart just dey press me as I hear Hauwa voice for corridor, sharp like new razor blade.

All na because I talk say: "I no wan see you."

My tongue heavy, but if I swallow am, e go choke me. For this Kaduna, if you no draw your own line, dem go use your back clean ground. I just dey stare window, dey avoid her eye, but she still stand, her shadow long for corridor. The silence just dey tight like wrapper.

He scratch him head, voice low, “Zeezee... maybe e better make you go Palm Grove for now.”

Na like say Sani Garba voice dey try hide small pity inside tough talk. The way he yarn am, e go be like favour, but e dey bite me for bone. He no fit look my face well, just dey look ground, dey kick stone for verandah.

"Palm Grove Secondary School no bad na. When she calm down, I go let you come back. Abeg, no make am hard for me, Zainab."

The sun wey dey set just dey shine for Sani Garba face, e eyes dey tired, the kind tired wey person get when wahala plenty. I fit smell him cologne wey he dey use for special day, but today, e no blend at all with the matter.

I just nod, pack my load, begin prepare to go.

My hands dey shake small as I arrange my notebooks and small wrapper inside Ghana-Must-Go. For street, children dey shout, “last card!” as dem jump round, dust dey rise for their legs. Their laughter dey mix with my quiet tears. I force myself no look back, I grip my Ghana-Must-Go tighter, knuckles white, my chest tight like say I swallow pebble.

Him padi try beg am:

"Abeg, Sani, you sure say you wan run am like this? Zainab no be stranger—na your own pikin for this compound. You don forget say her ear dey hear small? If you send am go another school, you no fear say dem go bully am? Una two don grow together, you dey always care for am before. You sure say you fit just push am comot like that?"

Him voice dey break like NEPA light for rainy season. He stand for the corner with hands for pocket, like person wey no know whether to talk or keep quiet. Neighbours wey dey sweep compound stop dey pretend sweep, dem dey listen. For Kaduna, person matter quick turn gist.

Sani Garba raise him eyebrow reply:

"That one na before. Childhood friend no fit match person wey just waka enter your life, you no know? Abeg, na just three months. I go let am come back."

He drop the words like say e dey share groundnut, but him leg dey tap ground like drum. I just stand dey look, my mouth dry, my hope scatter like suya for dog hand.

Three months later, when Sani Garba finally call tell me say I fit return, the sharp, carefree guy wey dey sit beside me lean close to my hearing aid and laugh softly:

My phone vibrate for my skirt pocket as I dey arrange my locker. I answer, and the new guy wey always wear white socks lean in, his voice low, eyes playful.

"Babe, you suppose close your eyes when you dey kiss. And no dey answer call from strange men."

His laughter scatter my tension, and for the first time in weeks, I feel small light for my chest. This Palm Grove, sha—people sabi yarn anyhow, but at least dem no fake.