Chapter 4: Marriage Talk and The Big Break

About marriage—

Second year after we graduate, my parents dey disturb make I find out Halima plan. I shy to ask am direct, so I just use joke talk am.

Sometimes I go yarn am, “Babe, if we marry, na who go fry plantain for house?” She go laugh, change topic, or act like say she dey busy for FIFA.

Halima hand pause for PS5 controller, act like say she no hear.

She go just eye me small, like say na network dey disturb. Me sef go quiet, dey fear make I no spoil mood.

Her mama still dey nice, but marriage talk no dey come out from her mouth.

Anytime I visit, she go just give me food, gist about office, then ask about my own people, but matter of marriage na taboo. Sometimes, e be like say dem dey act film for my head.

Fourth year after graduation, one of my hostel mates ask why I never marry.

That guy wey dey always find wahala, e just dey run mouth: “See as you fine, yet you still dey single? Wetin happen?”

I just laugh, “We still dey young—no rush enter love grave.”

I throway small joke but inside my chest, na fear dey hide.

Time just dey run.

One year turn two, two turn five. Na so calendar dey fly. Sapa nor even stop me from dey count.

Sixth year after graduation—ten years wey we dey together—Valentine’s Day, I book romantic bukka. Halfway for dinner, I smile ask, “No be time to think about marriage?”

I even buy small cake, write 'Na We Two Forever.' As we dey chop nkwobi, I gather liver drop am.

Under candlelight, Halima face just change from soft to bone face. “Okay, I go talk to my mama.”

I see say her eyes just shift. She dey force smile, voice don cold. The soup for my mouth turn to sand.

I just breathe out, quickly change topic make e no too awkward.

I start dey talk about work, dey act like say I no notice. The tension thick like ogbono soup.

But nothing happen after that.

After one week, I dey expect gist—nothing. Another month pass, still silence. For my mind, na so dem dey delay person.

I mention am again, two, three times. Each time, she dey vex more.

Once I raise matter, na quarrel. One day, she even waka commot from parlor, leave me dey talk to myself.

Last last, as we dey quarrel about small thing, na so she just shout truth—

“Morayo, my mama no gree make I marry you.”

As she talk am, everywhere just freeze. I feel like NEPA take light for my body.

I just freeze. But for my mind, I no too shock like I think. Fight just die there.

My mind dey play back every time her mama dodge marriage talk. E be like say na now I dey see road.

Halima realize wetin she talk, but she no try repair am. She just carry phone, keep quiet.

She just dey scroll WhatsApp, dey act like say nothing spoil. Silence thick like early morning harmattan.

My anger no be like fire, na like cold water wey just dey spread for body—slow, but e dey choke.

My hand dey cold, but inside I dey boil. Na inside-chest pain—no be the one wey dey make person shout.

“So, you never plan marry me at all?”

I voice low, but the question loud for room. E be like I dey interview ghost.

Halima rub her head, like say she don taya. “Why we no fit just dey date? Wetin marriage certificate go add? You still dey build career—marriage no go disturb you?”

Her voice be like person wey dey talk for call center—no emotion. She just dey list reasons like lecturer dey mark assignment.

All na excuse. Every word na way to dodge commitment.

I dey watch her mouth move, but my mind don switch off. I see say love don dry finish.

I cut am short. “Halima, you dey make me sick.”

My voice sharp, e shock her small. I nor even care again.

Person wey I know well, now be like stranger.

Her face nor resemble the girl wey save me for gate that day. I dey see stranger dey look me back.

Tears just dey fall from my eye.

I wipe am, shame nor even gree me cry out. But eye still dey red.

Halima no be person wey dey pet person; e don tey wey she stop to care about my tears. She just hiss, look me with eye wey dey mock.

Her own style na to dey form hard babe. She just cross leg, dey do like say my pain na comedy show.

“Morayo, no dey do like say na only you suffer, like say you love me pass. No be local husband you dey find? Plenty women for my mama office from outside town dey think like you. I be the best you fit get—na why you dey rush, abi you fear say you go lose me?”

As she dey talk, her tone na razor, e cut silence for hall. E pain me, but I no gree show am all.

Before she finish, I don waka comot.

I carry my bag, waka out like champion wey nor win anything. The street dey quiet, moon dey look me. I feel as if I dey carry stone for chest.

That night, I sleep for my guy place. Next morning, as I see my swollen eye for mirror, I quick wash face. No matter how e pain you, adult must go work.

My guy just pat me small, say make I no kill myself because of woman. Na that kind brotherly love dey help person stand up for this Lagos.

Me and Halima don quarrel before. We dey always settle. Friends talk say this one too much—I no suppose forgive am sharp sharp. I just type “okay”, na so Halima message enter:

I read her message, hand dey shake. I no believe say na so e go end.

“Family background must match.”

She no even add smiley. As if say na business she dey do. Her mama nor want pikin wey nor get land for city or family name wey dey open doors.

“Morayo, make we break up.”

My phone nearly fall from my hand.

I sit for bed like mumu, dey look phone. After all these years, na so love just cut? E weak me.