Chapter 1: The Day We Broke

After eight years, six months, and twenty-five days with Tobi Adeyemi, we broke up. The buka still smell of fried plantain and old sweat, but that morning, everything taste like ash.

Even the way my chest dey rise and fall that morning, e be like say my spirit sef don count every day of those eight years for calendar. Sometimes, you fit dey with person so tey your heart go dey recite the time wey pass like prayer point.

Why?

Because he placed his phone face down on the table while we dey chop together.

No be say I dey paranoid, but you know as our people dey talk: person wey no dey hide anything, no dey fear make phone screen show. The silence in that small buka, only the ceiling fan dey whine and the phone dey vibrate, as if e dey signal me say 'make I wise up'.

The dull vibration of the phone just dey like say na countdown to the end of our relationship.

E get as my heart dey beat that moment. I dey count every buzz, dey wonder which message fit dey important pass the food we dey share. Na as if spirit dey tap my shoulder, dey warn me say story wan change.

My hand hover for air, spoon still full, but my mind don already drop everything. Then I drop my spoon and fork. “Tobi, make we break up.”

Even the way the cutlery fall for plate, e sound like bell for burial. I try talk am gently, but inside me, na thunder dey roll. My mouth dry, but my voice steady.

As he siddon opposite me, na that time he finally release one long sigh of relief.

See as the man just lean back small, like person wey dem unshackle chain from leg. I see small smile for corner of him mouth, as if I don free am from prison. That sigh long reach heaven.

He no even bother to ask why. He just look me, nod slow, voice low: “Okay, Amara.” No drama, no wahala.

If to say na movie, people for expect argument, maybe beg small. But my guy just nod, voice low, no single struggle. Na so I know say e don ready since.

At last, he fit stop the acting.

For his eyes, na peace I see, not pain. E shock me small but e also make sense. Sometimes, two people go dey drag corpse wey don die since, dey pretend say e still dey breathe.

All because, back for secondary school, in front of all the teachers and students, he once talk say,

“Amara, for this life, I no go ever be the one wey go talk break up.”

Even as people cheer that day, my belle just dey sweet me. That kind public promise na big thing for our side; if you talk am for assembly, you gats stand by am, otherwise shame go catch you.

So,

he just dey wait make I talk am first.

I remember that day like yesterday—him voice loud for assembly ground, him friends dey hail am. If only I know say na that word go tie us together like goat for market.