Chapter 2: Pepper for My Eyes, Shame for Her Head
After that, Dr. Morayo still dey leave house early, come back late. The routine no change. She dey rush out before day break, sometimes no return till midnight. House cold, no laughter.
I no dey ask her anything again. Whether she come house or not, e no concern me. She fit come, fit no come. My mind don dey elsewhere. I dey focus on myself.
Her assistant, na him dey show himself. I no know how he take get my contact, but he add me and no talk anything.
One day, I see strange number for WhatsApp. I open am, see Dr. Femi face. The guts shock me. The guy no get fear. Every day, he dey post about him and Dr. Morayo for WhatsApp status, sometimes even ‘mistakenly’ send me her pictures, dey look me with one kind pride.
The photos dey annoying—dem go dey laugh, dey share ice-cream, sometimes even for hospital corridor. E be like say the guy dey intentionally dey torment me.
"Today, Dr. Morayo make love lunch for me. She dey treat you like this?" The picture na heart-shaped lunchbox. I remember the lunchbox well. My own hand wrap am with ribbon, write her name for am—'My Heart.' She now dey use am dey romance another man. I shake my head, pain just cut me again.
She dey work night shift often, I dey always prepare lunchbox for her. I no believe say she go use am please another man. All my love and effort, na another person dey enjoy. Sometimes, love go do you like mumu.
Last night, Dr. Femi send me video, come add message: "Na my birthday. Dr. Morayo book big private suite for party. You see all these roses? No be correct?"
The video show hotel room, big bouquet, rose petals for bed. Music dey play, people dey dance. The kain enjoyment dey vex me. For Naija, if man wan show off, na this kind thing him go do.
For the video, Dr. Morayo and Dr. Femi dey kiss like say tomorrow no dey, roses full ground, people dey shout. The camera dey move close, show their face clear. Dem no even fear who go see am. Shamelessness get level.
"Marry am! Marry am! Marry am!" I hear girls voice dey scream, their friends dey push them together. It pain me pass as dem dey encourage am.
I think say my heart don strong from all the pain, but that time, e still cut me deep. I just bury myself for work, make I no remember them.
Work become my escape—late nights, extra shift, anything to forget. I go dey pray for traffic, just to no reach house early.
Soon, Dr. Morayo notice say something dey wrong. One day, she block my road, dey frown. She stand for passage, arms akimbo, eyebrow dey meet. "Wetin dey happen?" Her tone sharp, like market woman wey person cheat for change.
"Wetin you dey busy with these days? We never see each other since."
Before, she go dey complain say I dey disturb her. Now, as I withdraw, she dey feel am.
Before, no matter how busy I be, I dey share everything with her. She dey always act like e dey disturb her, but now, as I stop, she feel say something miss.
She dey look me, like say she dey search my soul. I dey wonder if she dey regret.
After all, before, she dey control my emotions. My change dey worry her. She no like say the power don shift. I no dey beg again, she dey feel am.
I just look my phone, answer her with small grunt. I no even raise my head. "Mm." My voice dry like harmattan wind.
Dr. Morayo expect say I go talk plenty, but she no expect this kind coldness. She just look me, surprise. Her mouth open small, she frown, her hand dey play with her wedding ring. I see small fear for her eye.
"I dey talk to you! Wetin be ‘mm’?" She raise voice, try drag words from my mouth. I just dey look her.
"You don get another person? You never treat me like this before."
She dey find trouble wey she hide herself. Na so guilty mind dey run up and down. The more she talk, the more I see her panic.
The more she think, the more she believe. She grab my phone, begin search, hoping to see evidence say I dey cheat. She dey tap screen fast, dey check my call log, messages. For Naija, some women dey snoop like detective.
But nothing dey my phone. She see nothing. She scroll, scroll, then freeze. Face just dey dull.
I look up, meet her eye, my own eyes clear and calm. I dey look her direct, no blink. E shock her.
"You don finish? I fit get my phone back now?"
My voice low, I stretch hand, take phone. She dey shame small, but still dey try bone. She return am, try lighten the mood.
She laugh one kind fake laugh, shift body like say e no pain her. She try crack joke, "Hehe, why you dey look house? Who dey buy house?"
I pause for a moment, then just talk one excuse. I lie quick, "Client ask me to check." My voice no carry energy.
"Hospital get event tonight. I need give speech for hospital. Dress well. I go come from work—you fit take keke."
She no wan gree make we miss event. She drop instructions like say na command. For Naija, if wife talk, you gats gree or wahala fit land.
She no talk further, just hold me small before she leave. She squeeze my shoulder, quick quick, then waka commot. I fit smell her perfume—strong and sweet, the type wey dey choke for small space.
I watch her go, my mind deep. I dey reason, wonder if tonight go be the last straw. I dey prepare my heart for anything.
The party start soon. I iron cloth, put on my old Ankara, enter keke napep, breeze dey blow me. My chest tight as I dey near hospital hall.
As I reach, Dr. Morayo dey stage dey give speech. Dr. Femi stand beside her, the two of them dey act like perfect couple. Dem dey wear matching native, her headtie red like fire, his agbada dey shine. People dey snap picture, dey hail them.
I just dey listen, no smile, as people around dey talk:
Fan dey blow for corner, but sweat still dey my face. Smell of Dettol and jollof rice dey mix for air. I siddon for back, arms folded. People for my left dey gossip, no know say I dey hear.
"Dr. Morayo and Dr. Femi, na better match. If no be say Dr. Morayo don marry, dem for perfect together."
Old matron talk, dey nod head. Others dey agree. "True talk. Two doctors as couple—who no go envy them?"
Another nurse add, dey tap her friend. "I just dey ship them! Dem too sweet together. The way dem dey look each other dey make person wan vomit."
Small girl dey giggle for corner. All of them dey look stage, dey smile, dey snap snap.
With all this talk, Dr. Morayo just dey shy, she no deny, just dey smile. She dey wave hand, dey pretend say she dey shy. But the smile for her face dey too wide. For Naija, if person dey guilty, e dey overdo am.
After everybody finish, she talk, happy smile for her face. Her voice dey ring for microphone, confidence full her body.
"Okay, okay, make una stop. I get husband o! Dr. Femi and I na just colleagues."
She talk shyly, but na that moment, the big screen behind her light up with video: man and woman dey together.
For hall, everybody face turn. Na that kin video wey dey scatter family. The projector dey loud, sound dey clear.
And the people for the video, no doubt—na Dr. Morayo and Dr. Femi. Her red gele, him white native, the same wey dem wear that birthday night. No escape. For crowd, you fit hear pin drop. My heart dey beat, my hand dey cold.
Everywhere just quiet. People mouth open, eyes wide. Some dey whisper. Some dey cover mouth. Na real gbege. Na who wear white cloth dey fear palm oil.
Dr. Morayo still no understand. She see as everybody dey look her, come dey confused. She turn slowly, her smile freeze for face. For her mind, e be like say na dream.
"Wetin happen? Why una dey look me like that..."
Her voice dey tremble, eyes dey scan room. She dey search for help, but everywhere quiet.
She turn to look the big screen—and see the thing she no go ever forget for her life. Her mouth wide, eyes red. The world just collapse for her head that moment. Na so e be—secret no dey Naija. One day, e must burst.
That night, as shame swallow her, I know say my own chapter with Dr. Morayo don close for good.
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