Chapter 10: Cold House, Hot Streets

That night, I no wait for Ifeoma.

I dey watch TV, dey sip water. My mind no dey for marriage matter again.

She fit come anytime she like.

I no even dey look clock. Sleep catch me for parlour chair.

If she no come, e no concern me.

I tell myself, 'Abeg, na me and my God remain.'

Wife like this, house like this—I don tire.

My body weak, my heart dey heavy. I dey reason life, dey wonder how we reach here.

My marriage with Ifeoma just dey hang, no move forward, no go back.

E be like say na river wey no get bridge. Nobody fit cross, nobody fit swim.

So we just dey live like that, dey drag life.

Everyday na the same, no laughter, no gist. I dey fear say small thing fit break all.

Saturday, Ifeoma spend whole morning dey do makeup, say she dey meet her girls for lunch, shopping.

Wig dey everywhere, powder for mirror, she dey sing Tiwa Savage, dey snap selfie for Snapchat.

She dey sing Tiwa Savage song for bathroom, dey snap selfie, dey wear three wigs before she choose one. Perfume full room, everywhere dey smell like fine woman.

I no even ask. I check time, change, prepare go out too.

For my mind, I talk, 'If she fit get fun, I fit too.' I wear my best shirt, comb beard, spray body splash, dey shine shoe.

“You dey go out too?”

She dey look me for mirror, brow up, lipstick for hand.

“I dey meet friend for lunch.”

I talk am, dey button shirt. My voice cool.

“Which friend? I sabi am?”

She dey rub lipstick, dey ask like play.

“Halima. You don see her before.”

Her hand pause for lipstick, eye wide small. She turn, mouth open.

"Ehn?"

Her voice rise, eyebrow high. The air for bathroom change. I just smile small, dey wait for her next move. The game don start, and I ready. For this Lagos, na who get strong mind go last for marriage. Make we see who go first blink.