Chapter 2: How It All Started

Me and Halima meet for first year for university.

Na freshers' week, everywhere dey jollof with noise and market women dey sell bread outside gate. As I dey waka with my small Ghana-Must-Go, one old couple for school gate stop me say make I borrow dem transport money. When I no gree, dem begin follow me, dey insult:

“So young, but you no get small kindness.”

“Heartless girl! No man go want you for future.”

As dem dey run their mouth, I dey try form hard girl but my face don red like ripe agbalumo, hand dey shake with vex.

Na that time Halima show.

She and her guys dey waka pass, dem shield me for back. Halima just stand out—fine babe, confidence full body, hold Spalding basketball, wear correct limited-edition sneakers. She flash white teeth give me.

The sun just catch her face that day—one kain smile wey fit melt stone. She be the type wey dey make even security uncle greet her first.

“Hey, small junior, you dey alright?” she ask.

Her voice soft but still get command, like person wey sabi her lane. I just nod, try talk but mouth no gree open. For my mind, I dey hope say I no disgrace my village people.

Later, she realize say I be her mate, no be junior, but e no stop am to chase me. Na so we take start.

She begin yarn me for library, dey gist anyhow, dey play small prank. After like two weeks, na so she ask make I follow am chop suya for Student Centre. We begin dey do like say we no send anybody, but all our classmates don dey notice.

Her family get money for this town. Me, I come from small village for another state.

Anytime dem dey talk where dem from, she go always drop the town name with pride—her papa own land, her mama na chairlady for women’s association. Me, if dem ask, I go just talk, “I dey from Kogi, small side near river.” Dem go laugh say I dey hide.

For second year, she carry me go meet her parents. I follow am, dey hold oranges for hand, body dey shake. But her mama welcome me well. I just relax.

The house big sotay I fear to shift body for sofa. Her mama just smile, collect my oranges, say, “You try, my dear.” Her mama serve me big plate of efo riro and pounded yam, even add two pieces of goat meat. I chop with fear and happiness. She even dash me groundnut soup for takeaway. For my mind, na so-in-law things dey start?

Halima wink me, “You see? I tell you say my mama go like you.”

I just happy.

As we dey waka back, I dey float—feet nor touch ground. She squeeze my hand, and I feel say maybe my village fit enter better level for this Lagos.

That time, I no know say na because of her—her pikin—she dey try. For her mind, na just boyfriend-girlfriend; nothing dey to lose.

But me, I dey collect hope for every gesture. I dey keep score, dey imagine say this na how dem dey start love for Africa Magic.

So, from first year reach final year, we dey together.

We do every couple thing together—movie night, exam cramming, jollof cooking for hostel. Dem even dey call us “husband and wife” for faculty.