Chapter 2: The Airport Wait

Flight delay.

I finally reach midnight.

My whole body dey heavy, like say I carry tray of fufu from Oshodi to Ikeja. The airport na graveyard—no keke, no shout, just night breeze wey dey chop skin like harmattan for Jos.

By 2:30 a.m., airport don dry, everywhere cold like freezer.

Na so my teeth dey knock small, I begin dey envy people wey get family for Lagos proper. I hug my backpack like say na palliative.

No taxi dey.

I send my sister, Amaka, message.

[You don sleep, abi? Abeg, you fit come carry me from airport?]

I tap send, rub my eyes. All these cold fit make person forget say Naija sun dey somewhere for this same country.

As I send am, I notice say I type 'sister' join. E come dey somehow.

Awkward small.

My finger hover for unsend, but I just leave am. For my mind, na 'sis' be her name. That 'sister' get as e be—like say I dey write application.

Normally, na 'sis' I dey call her, not 'sister.'

E show say our relationship don reach that level wey small things dey important. Na so siblings dey—one word fit mean different thing.

We get each other contact but our chat dry—shows say we no too dey talk.

Sometimes na only 'happy birthday', 'send me money', or 'you dey?' go full chat. No time for gist.

No mean say we no dey relate, just say as we grow, siblings no too dey gist like before.

Everybody dey hustle, school, work, wahala. Even house, e fit be like strangers sometimes.

I wait like ten minutes.

Ten minutes for Naija airport night be like one hour for Europe. I just dey look my phone, dey press refresh like say na magic go happen.

My sister send two voice notes.

[Which small pikin dey disturb person this midnight?]

[Send picture.]

Her tone just dey play.

If na family WhatsApp group, she for add small meme join.

I just weak.

I fit imagine her dey drag pillow, hair scatter, dey laugh as she dey record.

She no save my number, na sure.

Her phone full with contacts, some she dey save with 'frenemies' or 'that annoying one'. Me, I fit dey as 'Obinna' or even 'Obi Airport'.

I sabi say my sister dey playful, but this one na first time I dey see her wild side.

Before, na bookworm she be, now e be like say she don catch enjoyment bug for Lagos.

I just video call her straight.

No time for stress, na battery I dey manage.

When she pick, her side dey dark, background dey noisy.

Somebody dey shout, “DJ, reduce am small!” for corner. Na soft Afrobeats dey hum for back, people dey yarn, laughter dey burst everywhere like pepper soup joint.

My sister just dey relax for sofa, eyes dey shine mischief. She still dey swirl wine glass for hand join.

She dey form 'big madam', leg cross like person wey no dey Lagos wahala.

We look each other for screen for few seconds.

The air thick small, na so I just dey try hold laugh.

She sharply sit up, all that lazy, loving look disappear.

Na so her eye clear, like student wey teacher just call during roll call.

I just smile. "Tomorrow, I go ask Mummy and Daddy how many small bros you dey find. How far, big sis~"

I drag the 'big sis' well—make e pepper am.

She spit her wine, begin cough, e shock her.

Wine touch her dress small, she use tissue dey dab. Her friends dey laugh her.

One babe beside her talk, "This your small bro fine o. If you no want am, abeg introduce am give me."

Her tone na full Lagos padi mode, eyes dey shine like person wey see awoof.

My sister laugh, "Carry go, na my own small bro be that. No dey talk nonsense."

She dey form protective big sis, but I sabi say na joke dey her mind.

I guess say her phone first dey table. She reach am, camera come zoom her face.

Her eyebrow dey up, like person wey wan swear affidavit.

She con look somehow embarrassed. "Why you no tell me say you dey come back?"

E shock her small, she dey try arrange story.

I still dey smile. "If I tell you, I no go sabi say you get plenty small bros. I go tell Mummy and Daddy when I reach house, hehe."

My voice dey drag like person wey dey hold laugh, but she no fit vex.

My sister rub her forehead. "I don drink too much, abeg no tell them."

She eye me like say make I pity her. For our family, any small mistake, mummy go hold am for prayer point.

I just hiss small.

Just small, make she feel am.

From the screen, I hear soft, fine laugh.

E sweet like morning akara seller laugh for street.

My sister look one side. "I don drink, I no fit drive. I go send person come carry you."

Na so e dey Lagos—if you drink, police wahala dey wait for road.

Sharp sharp, her friends dey rush volunteer.

"Na me go go!"

One wear red lipstick, another dey form gentle, but all of them dey ginger.

"Small bro, na me go come!"

Another babe raise hand like person for primary school assembly.

"Since your sister get many small bros, you fit get plenty big sisters too."

Person wey talk am dey yarn like aunty wey dey find gist.

My sister laugh, "My small bro dey gentle, fine, and dey honest. If I allow una, una go chop am finish."

Her voice get that proud elder sister tone, like say I be goldfish for market.

She look me. "See, I go send my most beautiful, well-mannered girlfriend come carry you."

She dey form like say na ambassador she dey send for United Nations.

Camera shift.

E move steady, phone dey shake small, then face appear.

Na cool, fine face I see.

Halima.

Skin fair, eye get one kind shine. Her hair wrap for scarf, makeup soft, she resemble TV presenter wey no dey stress.

My sister bestie.

We don meet like two or three times.

She dey follow my sister waka for wedding and family Christmas party. I fit remember her laugh—e dey soft.

My sister senior me with two years. We go same secondary school for some time, sometimes I dey see them together.

Sometimes dem go dey gist for corridor, dey share gala. Me, I dey observe from distance.

We no be stranger, but we no close. I never really talk to Halima one-on-one before.

E always dey my mind say na my sister padi—boundary dey.

For the screen, our eyes jam.

For that moment, na as if everywhere stop. Light dey reflect for her cheek, eye dey search my face.

I shock small.

I swallow spit. Heart beat do kpalanga. I dey pray make my voice no crack if I try talk.

Halima just give me calm, gentle smile.

She do small wave, lips soft, like say na only me she dey see.

Before I fit talk, my sister end the call.

The screen black, na only my reflection I dey see. I dey wonder—this Lagos, e fit change person destiny overnight?