Chapter 1: Padi Dem Wahala

My wife get one male childhood friend.

You know as e dey go for this Lagos, where danfo dey shout for road and market women dey sell groundnut for junction. Lagos wahala no dey finish—gossip dey fly like mosquito. If person like gist, dem go talk say na so so Musa Ifeoma dey follow waka about. For our street, people sabi say dem two dey tight, e be like say nothing dey fit separate them. Some even dey ask if na brother and sister dem be. As for me, sometimes the thing dey choke for my chest, I go dey squeeze remote for hand, teeth dey grind small, but I go still dey form hard guy. All these small small greetings, how far, abeg, you dey hear am for back but you go just bone face. Make person no go talk say you dey do like village man for city.

Their friendship too tight, dem no dey even reason man and woman matter—dem fit chop suya together for one plate, even crash for same mattress, e no go shake dem.

You go dey wonder say, shey na juju Musa use? Abi na just pure padi level? Even for family compound, if dem see two of them, na laughter everywhere. As dem dey take eye look each other, e dey clear say dem sabi demself reach bone.

I don tell them tire make dem try respect boundaries, make dem dey keep distance small.

Sometimes I go call Ifeoma, talk am gentle—"Baby, abeg, this kain closeness, make we try dey respect marriage small." My voice go dey mellow, but for heart, e dey do me like say make I just lock Musa inside room one day, question am like police.

But my wife go just vex, shout, “I don know Musa since over twenty years. If anything dey, e for show since. E for even reach your side sef!”

When she dey talk like this, her body go dey shake, eye go red. You know Ifeoma, once she don put leg for matter, na final. She go even use hand draw circle for air as she dey argue. I go just dey look am, dey wonder when my own word go count.

After that, she go still do as she like, spend the night with Musa.

Sometimes na her mama house she go talk say she sleep, but me I sabi where she dey. For my mind, I dey pray make thunder no fire me if I talk lie.

Even my father-in-law and mother-in-law dey treat Musa like their own pikin, dey tell me make I free my mind.

You know say for Igbo family, once dem accept you, na wahala for another person. Musa dey chop with left hand for their house, dey gist with papa like padi, dey follow mama go market. Even elders dey hail am: "Our son-in-law wey miss road."

At the end, I sef find my own small sister.

No be like say I plan am, but as e be say man no dey chop shame, I say make I get my own person. Na so Halima enter the picture. I begin dey call am, dey yarn her for long.

My wife stop me quick, begin para: “Wetyn dey happen between you and Halima? Una no sabi keep proper distance?”

That day, she catch us dey gist for house compound, come dey throw face. You know women and their wahala. She ask me direct, voice high, "So na Halima be your new gist partner?"

I just return her words: “I don work with Halima for three years. If anything dey, e for show since. E for even reach your side sef!”

I throway hand as I talk am, make e pain her small. She just hiss, turn face. For my mind, e sweet me.