Chapter 1: Wahala Burst for Abroad

Gu Yan dey on top business trip for abroad when wahala burst for obodo oyibo—dem say terrorist wahala jam am for there.

The news land for my phone like fire for harmattan breeze, and my heart no even quicken. My phone no even get rest. Everybody dey call me—one after the other, like say dem dey share free recharge card. I hear my phone ring sotey I wan use am stone wall.

My phone no even get rest. Each call land like knock for my ear, one after the other: ring, cut, ring again. You for think say I be call centre operator for government hotline the way everybody dey disturb.

My mother-in-law talk say she and my father-in-law dey embassy, dey wait make I show face come talk to officials.

Her voice for phone heavy with tears, the kind only woman wey dey fear for pikin fit get. She dey beg, dey call my name like person wey dey lose hope. "Ifeoma, abeg, come embassy, talk to dem, maybe dem go take action faster."

Even my papa, wey never call me once in ten years, still reach out.

E voice even dey shake small, as if pride wan hold am but fear dey flog am join. All these years, if him number show for my phone, na mistake. But today, e call me, serious.

E talk say e get people for embassy, say e fit arrange make dem bring Gu Yan back to Nigeria.

He say e know one oga wey sabi another oga for diplomatic side, say e go make call, just make I relax. The matter, e say, no fit pass him. But for my mind, I just dey look the phone as if e fit produce miracle.

Even my best friend, Gu Yan brothers, colleagues, neighbours – all of dem dey call, dey ask how e dey go.

Messages just dey enter like flood. WhatsApp, SMS, even voice note join. My best friend voice just dey shake: "Ifeoma, you dey okay so? If you need anything, shout. We dey for you." But dem no know say my mind dey blank like blackout.

Na only me, wey dey bed for postpartum, dey press end call one after the other, no stress.

The room dey smell faintly of baby powder and Dettol, my body still dey sweat under wrapper. For my side, I no dey pick. I dey just press red button, dey rest head for pillow. I dey fresh out of childbirth, my body still dey recover, so I dey use the excuse to keep my world small. My baby dey sleep beside me, innocent, and na only that peace dey important to me.

After all, when Gu Yan see for news say him ex-girlfriend – war correspondent – dey stuck for terrorist wahala, na so e leave me and our pikin, run go confirm if she dey alright.

The memory still dey play for my head like film wey no wan end. Na sharp sharp e abandon me and our baby, no look back, just because e wan run go save old flame. Abeg, who me and pikin offend for this life?

That time, I dey hold my belle, water don dey drop, I ask Gu Yan:

My voice gentle but no shake, even as fear dey catch me. "So you sure say you wan leave your wife and pikin go that war country? If you go, Gu Yan, abeg, anything wey happen, no put am for my head."

Gu Yan no talk, but the way e dey rush dey knock suitcase for door talk everything wey dey e mind.

E just dey scatter everywhere, no look my face. You go know say e don already decide before e even tell me. For my mind, I just dey count how many years I use take believe say love dey sure pass garri.

So if na him choice to put e life for danger, why I go dey run up and down to save am?

For this Naija, na so dem dey talk: na who wan kpai go kpai. Person wey use e leg waka enter wahala, make e dey find road commot by himself. Abeg, I no be Jesus.