I am exhausted. Three births and one more to go. I can hardly move a muscle. I know I prayed to God before I resumed work in this hospital, that I wanted favor and success but I had no idea he had taken my prayer seriously. I have become so popular that expectant mothers are ditching their gynecologists from different hospitals and seeking my services. I miss my former workplace when I had enough time on my hands. Nowadays, I just go home and crash into my bed and drift off while listening to Honey tell me about how her day went.
We have not had quality time together in the past week. While I have been consumed with work, she has been preoccupied with moving to her own apartment. I am not totally excited about the development but I understand that a woman needs her space. If we’re going to be spending happily ever after with each other, then it’s fine to live apart now. The only problem I’m having with the whole arrangement is that her ex lives in the same neighborhood with her. It had come to her as a shock too.
I was helping her pack in some boxes of electronics when I saw her freeze in her spot as her eyes fixed on some fair-complexioned guy who was walking his dog and smiling in our direction. Honey dashed into the house and remained there even when the guy approached and introduced himself as an old friend of hers. When I called out to her to come speak with him, she ignored me. The guy turned away, promising to give her a call at a later time.
“He is not a friend,” she told me directly. “He is my ex. And I’m calling the agent that got me this house to ask for my money back because Kene and I cannot stay in the same space.”
Her statement made me uncomfortable. Why should her ex have such an effect on her?
“There’s nothing to explain, hotstuff. Kene is an ex and I feel exes should remain in one’s past. Not present.”
“I’m calling the agent right away,” she stated, reaching for her phone.
I took it from her. “There’s no need, sugams.”
“No, seriously. I wouldn’t even have picked this estate. It’s so bourgeois. But it was Saratu that got it for me. It belongs to her ex-husband’s brother. I’m sure she also helped Kene. I wish she had just told me he was here.”
“Is he going to be an issue?”
“No. I can handle him. Like I said, exes should remain in the past. He was the last person I expected to see here.”
I saw that she was serious about her decision to call the agent. She can get impulsive at times.
“Honey, I don’t want you to move out. If Kene is not going to be an issue, then stay.”
“You’re comfortable with him living in the same space as me?”
“You’re not in the same space.”
“He’s walking his dog in front of my house. If that’s not too close for comfort, I don’t know what is.”
“I trust that you’ll handle him.”
And that had ended the conversation about Kene. But the ghost of his presence still lingers on my mind. What is it about him that makes her so uncomfortable?
I rise from the examination table I have been stretched out on for the past two hours. I feel fairly refreshed, although I am still exhausted. I need to check on my last patient for the day to see how her labor is progressing.
I gently slap my cheeks awake and pick my phone. On my way out, I bump into Mary. There’s an awkward moment between us. Usually, I would hug her but since the rape affair, I have avoided physical contact with her.
She smiles. A real smile; one I haven’t seen in a while. I am glad she listened to Honey’s urging to see a psychologist. Her frequent sessions with the woman appear to be doing some good.
“Hi. I was actually coming to see you.”
I open my office door and point her in.
I close the door. She settles into a chair while I perch on my desk, facing her.
“It’s about today’s meeting at Peace’s house. I know I was not invited because the last time with her didn’t end well. But I am still her friend, despite all that happened. I feel I have to be there.”
I purse my lips in thought.
Let me get you up to speed on the rape saga. Celia had exposed to all of us what Peace had divulged about Reno being guilty of Mary’s accusations. Following that, we called a meeting of the affected parties but Reno did not show up. Peace was there, however, and she confirmed what Reno had done and begged for Mary’s forgiveness but Mary swore never to forgive her or Reno and walked out on all of us.
That was just two weeks ago. In that space of time, Reno had disappeared for three days and showed up early one morning at his doorstep, battered and unconscious. Presently, he is still in a hospital undergoing treatment. No one knows what happened to him, although we strongly suspect Celia (who has denied) to be responsible, owing that she has an elder brother that is a soldier, rumored to be crazy about Mary.
At the moment, the wives have come up with this intervention plan to send Peace to a rehab center to treat her addiction. The intervention is happening at hers this evening and the men have not been invited. Mary has also been left out.
“I was the only one who knew about her alcohol addiction,” Mary reveals to me. “And I used to speak to her about it. She’ll always tell me she’ll change and beg me not to tell anybody. I kept her secret as a good friend but I don’t think I helped her by doing so, and that’s why I want to be there today. Do you think it’s wise?”
“Yeah. In fact, I think you’ll be just what she needs to convince her to go to rehab. She keeps telling everyone to beg you to forgive her, so your presence will be a deciding factor. Call Celia and let her know you will be going.”
Mary rises and straightens out her long skirt. She is back to wearing conservative clothes. Honey doesn’t approve and she’s taking it upon herself to be her stylist. I have asked her to go easy on her. Mary has a quiet demeanor but a cheerful personality within. I don’t think Reno was strong enough a force to knock that person down. She will come back in full vigor. She just needs time to heal.
“Can I hug you?” I request. “I have been dying to hug you.”
“Why?” she laughs a little.
“You need it.”
I give her a bear hug. I don’t intend to linger but when I try to pull away, she holds me back. I realize she is crying. I break contact.
“I’m sorry,” she apologizes. “I said I’ll stop crying and be strong but…”
She covers her face with her hands and I hold her again.
“Nobody’s rushing you, boo. It takes time.”
She pulls away and sniffles. “Thank you.”
Keeping her head low, she spins in the direction of the door and hurries out. I follow her but branch to a hallway that has consultation offices on the left and an open courtyard on the right. In the evenings, I could be caught sitting out there. I love the cool air and serenity it offers alongside the fragrance of fresh flowers which contrasts with the antiseptic smell that has pervaded the walls.
I turn to a shorter hallway and stop at a ward to check on a patient whose baby is supposed to go in for surgery later in the day. As I step into the room which holds four beds, I spot Tola in a corner, struggling with a wailing baby whose mother looks less than pleased.
For a moment Tola stops what she’s doing and stares at the baby, stern-faced.
“Please, get us the baby’s real doctor,” the mother whines to a nurse who is attending to some other business in the room. Tola snaps back to attention and faces the woman.
“Madam, can you do me a favor and move away from here so I can do my work?”
“But doctor, my baby has been crying for almost thirty minutes! And you’re yet to find a vein. You keep poking him with that needle!”
“Madam, your son is going in for a scan in the next hour. He needs this IV line in. Allow me do my work.”
“No o! I’ll stay here.”
I see Tola mutter something under her breath before she makes another attempt to find a vein in the baby’s arm. The little bugger screams piercingly the moment the needle goes in and she withdraws the catheter.
“Doctor please, leave him.”
Tola snaps at her. “Madam, stay away!”
The woman retreats but Tola doesn’t stop there; she goes ahead and reveals unpleasant truths to her about her son’s condition, scaring her to death with the consequences of her not finding a vein in his body. The ward goes silent listening to her in her permitted five minutes of madness. When she is done and all that is left is her hard breathing, I walk over and lay a gentle hand on her shoulder.
She turns. “Jide? What are you doing here?”
“Can I help?” I ask and she shrugs. I look at the nurse. “Give me gloves and a cannula.” To the baby’s mother, I say, “Madam, please give us space, okay?”
The woman nods. The nurse hands me the requested items while Tola passes her chair to me.
“What’s up with you?” I ask, slipping into a pair of gloves.
“Nothing,” she replies hurriedly. “I’m fine.”
“I haven’t seen you like this since you slapped me.”
“I said I’m good, Dede.”
“Hmm…I’m guessing hormones?”
She presses her lips together in silence.
“Congratulations, though. Mex told me. How long gone are you?”
“Hope this is a real pregnancy?”
“That’s not fair.”
I smile and hit a vein in the baby’s arm, carefully driving in the cannula as his cries lower to whimpers.
“Why are you even here, by the way?” I ask Tola and hand the baby back to his mother.
“Doctor Freeman decided to have a lot of free time with himself today and asked me to fill in for him. He seems to forget I half-own this hospital.”
I discard the gloves. “Maybe you need to assert your position or the senior doctors won’t take you seriously.”
“They don’t see me as qualified enough even after marriage,” she complains, making notes in the patient’s chart. “Maybe when I have this baby and they start calling me Iya, then they’ll respect me.”
I wait for her to finish and then we walk out.
“Thanks for helping out.”
“There’s something else bugging me, Dede.”
I stop. “What?”
“Yazmin is flying in today.”
“Mex didn’t tell you?”
“She’ll be staying at the family house. I know you told me not to let it bother me but she’s staying for a whole month. How do I cope with that?”
“Like an adult, Tola. No drama, please.”
I keep on walking.
“What if everybody falls in love with her? Like, daddy – what if he really likes her and wishes she was Emeka’s wife instead?”
“Are you kidding me?”
“No. Have you seen her? She’s like J.Lo and Sofia Vergara and Salma Hayek put together, only younger!”
“And you are Emeka’s wife. Doesn’t that ring on your finger mean anything to you?”
Tola lifts her hand and stares at her wedding band as if seeing it for the first time. “It does.”
“Good. You earned it. Show Yazmin why. And stop stressing; it’s not good for the baby.”
I head up a flight of stairs, leaving her behind.
“Can I register for your antenatal classes, DOM?” she requests.
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
“I think this would fit nicely here. What do you think, Mary?”
I step back and let Mary see my handiwork. We are both facing a wall in my sitting room on which I have nailed the replica of the daffodil painting that hangs above Jide’s bed. Mary angles her head to the left and I follow her movement. She straightens her head again and shakes it.
“It’s better on this side.”
She removes the painting and places it beside another of a dark house at night, illuminated by a yellow moon. Both paintings complement each other and give my sitting room this serenity that moderates the yellow curtains.
“Oh, wow. You really have an eye for this sort of thing.”
“What’s with you and Jide and yellow sef?” she asks. I laugh, and then stretch out with a yawn.
“I’m nervous about this Peace’s intervention, Honey.”
Mary sits on a chair that stands in the middle of the room, after throwing off a couple of extra curtains to a longer chair. All my stuff are still in cartons or bags. The only thing I have put together is the décor. I am yet to rearrange my personal things. At this rate, I might move in at the turn of the next century. Having discovered Kene is living just down the lane, I am not so eager to be all by myself again.
“Honey, do you know that after all that happened I still hold some resentment?”
“For your friends?”
“Yeah. I feel really betrayed, especially by Celia. She and I have known ourselves since secondary school days, although we weren’t friends then. But we could have been close if we wanted because she and I lived in the same neighborhood. And then we became close during my NYSC. I served in Kaduna state and for most part of my service year, I stayed with her and her elder brother, Joey. Then we lost contact until Shady met and fell in love with her. It was even I who facilitated the whole dating process because Joey didn’t like Shady, who was really broke at the time.
“So…yeah, I can say I feel betrayed by her. Noka and Bimpe too, but not so much. I know they have all apologized but it’s hard to let them back in like before.”
“Then maybe you and I and Kate should form our own little faction and not care so much about whether they approve or not.”
“Shey?” Mary laughs.
“I’m serious. Kate doesn’t seem to know where to place herself when she’s with them. And I don’t see why she should even care when she can be hanging out with her age mates.”
“Bobby doesn’t want that and that’s why he knocked her up.”
“But on a serious note Mary, you should tell them Celia how you feel.”
“I should, right?”
“If you can’t, I’ll help you.”
“You know you can be quite confrontational, right?”
I give an innocent expression.
“Like when Celia and Peace showed up at the door that Monday and you didn’t want to let them in?”
I recall the moment and hiss. “I was angry. I was like after all the nonsense they did the night before they had the guts to show up. To be honest, I was happy when you refused to see them.”
“I just didn’t want drama that afternoon.”
My attention is back on the daffodil painting. “Can I ask a question, Mary?”
“Do you still have feelings for Jide?”
I don’t look at her. I have no intention to make her uncomfortable. I just want her to be honest with me.
“Okay. I needed to cross that out if we’re going to be friends.”
“I respect you, Honey. And I’m not a boyfriend snatcher.”
“I never thought you were.” I leave the painting and face her. “One more thing. Who is Tarela? Elsie told me stuff about her and then I met her at your place. So, gist me about her.”
Mary’s eyes shift slightly. “Ask Jide.”
“But I’m asking you.”
“Please, ask him.”
“Mary?” I look into her eyes.
“Okay.” She drops her hands on her laps in a noisy manner. “Tarela is his ex. Did he ever tell you of a girl that slit her throat for him?”
“Elsie did but for real?” I pull a stool to sit. “Abeg, gist me.”
Mary rolls her eyes. “You sef.”
She is about to fill me in on the juicy gist when someone knocks on my door. A woof follows and I don’t need to be told it is Kene outside with his Labrador. I walk to the door, fling it open and see him scolding the dog who is taking the liberty to pee in front of my house.
“Put that beast away,” I order. He shortens the dog’s leash and hides it behind him.
“Hi, Hon,” he repeats.
“Kene, why are you here?”
“Answer my greeting nau.”
“Good evening. So, why are you here?”
“I noticed that your outside light has been on for some days now, so I just stopped by to see if anyone’s in and also to know if you’ll like me to help get you someone to clear the grass. It can bring snakes and other creepy-crawlies.”
“You’re stalking me.”
He laughs as if I have said something ridiculous.
“Ekenedilichukwu, the last time we met in London, you stated confidently that the next time we come across each other, I’ll be wearing your ring. Have you detected your stupidity now?”
Mirth springs from his throat. “I miscalculated. Forgive me.”
“And by the way, don’t you have a ship to be on? What’s this yeye parading you’re doing with your dog and poking your nose into your neighbors’ grasses?”
“I no longer stay offshore. I have a business of my own now.”
“I’m happy for you but here’s what: I am in a serious relationship, Kene. I’m not supposed to be repeating it to you but you suffer from amnesia once in a while. So, this is me putting it out there. Don’t ever step foot here again—you and your ugly dog—if you don’t want trouble.”
The Labrador pokes its head from behind its master and whimpers at me.
“Yes, you too. Don’t come pissing in my domot.”
“Hi there!” Kene peeks into my house and waves at Mary. She stares back without waving. The girl has developed some kind of coldness towards men.
“You won’t introduce me?” he demands.
“No. Bye, Kene.”
I shut the door in his face.
“Who was that?” Mary asks.
“He lives in this same neighborhood?”
“Don’t even ask.”
I stare at my new wall clock. It’s almost 5:30pm.
“I think we start heading to Peace’s house now.”
Mary and I freshen up and then we head out. We take a short walk in the direction of where we are to pick a taxi. As we near the spot, a posh car stops beside us and the passenger window lets down, revealing Kene’s galling face. Wasn’t he just walking his dog some minutes ago?
“Going somewhere, ladies?”
I ignore him and flag down a taxi that’s driving by.
“Mary, let’s go abeg.”
We trudge to the taxi and get in. While Mary gives instructions and negotiates a fare, I reply Celia’s ping, assuring her that we are on way. I feel somewhat bad over the way I’m treating Kene but I know that if I give him even a little window, he’ll feel he has the right to crawl back in. The guy believes that since he destroyed my hymen he has the right to pop into my life any time he feels like and claim my body. I’ll have to put him in his place.
On the way to Peace’s, Mary tells me all about Tarela. The story leaves me in shock. Jazz? Voodoo dolls? Somebody will actually go that length to get back a lost love?
A shiver spreads over me as I think of Kene. I tell myself that I have to be very careful with him. I know he won’t resort to diabolical means but he should not be underestimated.
“Oga, park in front of that black gate.” Mary points and I follow her hand to see a house that is fenced in. We split the taxi fare. In a car parked across the street, I see Bimpe on the phone. Noka is behind the wheel and Celia is with them. When they spot us, they alight and cross over. We share hugs but Mary avoids them.
“Haba, Mary!” Celia forces a hug on her. “We’re sorry, baby.”
“We’ll talk later.” Mary disengages from her. “Let’s go in.”
We file into the compound, allowed in by the gateman.
“Do you guys have your speeches prepared?” Bimpe asks as we near the door.
“What speech?” Celia responds. “We’ll just walk in there, grab Sammy and hurl her ass into Noka’s car.”
“Na by force?”
“You best believe it.”
Celia knocks on the door. We wait in silence. After some seconds, the door flings open and Peace appears. She takes her time to observe us individually.
“Let me guess. Y’all here for an intervention.”
“Yes,” Celia replies. “You’re going to rehab today, madam.”
Peace rubs wrinkly, pale eyelids and takes a long sniff. She looks like someone who hasn’t eaten in days.
“Okay. I’ll go to rehab. But not today. Not now.”
“I can’t explain. Just go.”
She makes to close the door but Noka pushes it in.
“Bimpe, Honey, get her things. Celia, get Sammy. I’ll hold her.”
“No, you don’t understand.” She ducks away as Noka goes for her. “I don’t…”
Her voice lowers as Reno appears from the kitchen. In one hand, he holds their son. In the other is a crutch in which he uses to support a leg that is cast in POP. Bruises scar his face and on one side of his neck is a long cut that is in stitches.
We all stare at him in silence. He can’t look into our faces.
“He’s back,” Peace explains. “He’s sorry, he’s changed and he needs me.”
Reno returns to the kitchen.
She raises her hands and interrupts me.
“But you said you were going to leave him and fix your life up.”
“Yes. But he needs me, Honey. My husband needs me more than I need rehab right now.”
“No. You need a brain,” Celia replies. “And you both need Jesus.”
She hisses and turns away. One by one, the others also leave but I remain behind.
“I love him, Honey. I can’t leave him.”
I try to understand her words but I can’t. With a weighty heart, I follow the rest. It’s best to let sleeping dogs lie.
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
I have never screamed like this before. Never been loved like this before. Never had pleasure like this before.
Damn! Jide has gotten a hundred times better with sex. And I cannot believe it is even happening. This is more than a dream come true. This is paradise, incomparable to anything I have ever felt.
I am literally in tears because I can’t find any other way to express myself.
“Tarela, are you okay?”
His breath is hot on my ear, tingly on my skin. Goosebumps spread all over me and I feel myself shaking from the core.
“Please, don’t stop,” I say to him breathlessly and he drives harder into me. Oh yes! Yes! Exactly what I want. No long talk, biko.
He goes on and on and…I lose track of time.
Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. He reaches his climax and leaves me crying for more. But I’m not uncharitable. I’ll wait for him to build up momentum for me again and we will do this all morning and all night because at last I have my man and no woman can take him away from me.
“Mmm?” I reply lazily. My eyes are shut in bliss.
“Why do you keep calling me Jide?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. You’d rather I call you Tiger like I used to?”
I hear him scratch his beard. “Like you used to?”
“Yes, Tiger.” I snuggle up to him and inhale his scent but he pulls away from me.
“Where are you going?” I murmur, trying to drag him back to bed.
“I’m going home.”
“I have a girlfriend. Remember?”
“For the millionth time, Tarela. I am not Jide or Tiger. My name’s Steve.”
I laugh. “Joker. No, I’ll not call you Steve, whatever that means. You’re my tiger.” I purr.
I feel him lean over me. “Tarela?”
He gently slaps my face and my eyes flutter open. I throw my hands around his neck. He breaks away from my clutch.
“I think you need to see a doctor. A psychiatrist, maybe.”
From nowhere loud blast like a siren sounds off in my ear and gives me an instant headache. I use the heels of my palms over my eyes which are beginning to hurt as well. Images from the night before run through my mind intrusively. None of what I see make sense but I realize that something is appallingly off.
“Are you okay?” he asks and I jolt away from his gruff voice that is clearly not Jide’s. I scamper backwards as the face and body of a total stranger fills my view.
Oh God! What have I done? Who the hell did I do? Who is this guy and why is he not Jide? What’s going on?
“Okay. I think I’m going to leave. You’re really scaring me right now.”
I fling a pillow in his direction without looking at him. I am in shock, I am irritated, I am losing my mind and I so want to strangle that gypsy bitch who has messed up my head this bad! What did I do to her that she’ll do this to me?
I cover myself in my blanket and cry.
So it wasn’t Jide the whole of last night? It wasn’t him that kissed me and said and did all those amazing things?
God just kill me now!
I pull myself up to a sitting position, knees drawn to my chest. It’s hard to breathe or see or even think. I am literally shaking all over.
I reach for my phone and immediately connect with Kiya. She must explain what just happened.
“Hi Tarela.” Her ugly face pops up on my screen.
“Kiya, what did you do to me?!”
“I don’t know. It depends. You have to explain.”
“Is it because I owe you money that you’ll screw with my head like this?! Why, Kiya?!”
“I’m confused here, Tarela. And I must say, you look like hell. What happened?”
I try to reply but I can’t find a perfect sequence to describe the jumble in my head. Rather I stare around. My room is scattered; clothes, bra and panties on the floor, used condoms and cigarette butts, all signs of a night I can hardly recall. And Lord knows I was not drunk.
“I’m waiting,” Kiya says.
“I… Jide… we…”
“Tarela, you ain’t making sense.”
“Shut up let me figure this thing out!”
I get off the bed and amble around.
Okay, so a while ago I decided I had had enough of waiting around for Kiya’s voodoo to work, thus I visited Mary to put in place a plan that has been in the works. I have this friend cum neighbor who used to be a hot sugar baby but lost her status and customer base when she got knocked up by some seedy, broke dude. Due to the fact that she had done many abortions, she felt it was only wise to keep the baby. For months, she stayed in isolation and told everyone who tried to contact her that she was in the UK with some oil-rich billionaire. Now, she is nine months gone and I have somehow convinced her to opt for the services of a qualified midwife who would help her with a homebirth since she doesn’t want to be seen in public. The plan is to deliver the baby quietly and have her mother in the village take over the responsibility so she can resume active life. So far, she bought into my elaborate arrangements and Mary was supposed to help me get access to Jide.
It’s not that I can’t go straight to him but I don’t want to ruin the little window of opportunity I have, knowing how much of a toughie he can be. So, according to plan, Mary was to meet with my friend casually, build this pseudo friendship with her and then suggest Jide’s services to her while I remained in the background, easing myself into his life without him noticing it and without Mary herself even knowing she is a tool.
But stupid Mary was giving me attitude when I went to see her two weeks ago. She almost didn’t even let me in. She kept asking why I was there. And then to worsen matters, the Honey chick appeared from nowhere. Who would have thought they’d end up being friends.
Well, there went my best laid plans. The only other option was to cozy up to Honey but I’d rather have my eyes gorged out than utter a word to that man-snatcher.
So, there! Everything I planned got burnt to ashes! I was mad, I cried, I cussed, cried a little more and decided to back down for a while. I had waited five years. I could wait a little longer if it would give me the expected results.
To ward off depression, I occupied my days with activities. Last night I decided to see a movie, something I had not done in a very long time. And that was when I saw him—the guy whom I thought was Jide—and things went downhill from that point.
“But it was him, Kiya. He had his face, his eyes, spoke with his voice, kissed me with his lips. How could it not have been him?”
Kiya narrows her eyes at me and I see that she knows something.
“Oh, Tarela.” She gave out a sigh. “I warned you of this.”
“Warned me of what?”
“The spell is backfiring.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I told you that if he destroys the dolls, there would be consequences. I warned you.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“Oh God!” I crash into my bed.
“And it’s going to get worse.”
“Basically the spell was there to bring your desires to life by connecting you to him. But it works both ways as well, that was why a voodoo doll of you was needed to make it potent.”
“Wait… I’m confused here…”
“Listen! The spell was to connect your souls together, to make him want you as much as you want him but he destroyed it and freed himself from wanting you. And now, you’re screwed because you haven’t broken free yet. Your mind is distorted, your reality skewed and anytime you meet a man that is even mildly attracted to you, he instantly transforms into your Jide guy.”
I become numb. “Kiya, you can’t be serious.”
“But I warned you.”
I retreat from reality to put my thoughts together. I can hear Kiya speaking but her words make no meaning to me. I shiver as familiar darkness enshrouds me.
I break out of my stupor.
“Were you listening to me?”
My head does a dazed shake.
“I can help you. I can get you out. But apart from it being expensive, it will achieve the exact opposite of what you desire.”
“And that it is?”
“You’ll end up hating Jide passionately.”
I slip back into nothingness again. I try to think but I find a huge, dark cloud blocking my reasoning.
“Tarela, can you stop zoning out and listen to me!”
“Wh-what were you saying?”
She puffs out. “I’m giving you a choice to either continue with the way things are or just choose to hate Jide.”
“Hate Ji-de,” I echo in a low voice as tears find their way down my cheeks. Why can’t I go back to the days when he loved me? That’s what I want. That’s all I want.
“Kiya, I can’t hate Jide.” My voice is cowed, a reflection of my state of mind.
“Well, you do have the choice of loving him in other men, which is not bad because you get to live in your warped fantasy. The downside would be that the more you live that way, the farther Jide will get from you.”
“It means you will never cross paths with him again. Destiny will tear you guys apart, even if you’re just one mile away from each other.”
I laugh in disbelief. “You’re talking crap. Bullshit! I can just go to his house right now and see him.”
“You can but you will never be able to see him, Tarela. He is lost to you for eternity.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Ts and Cs, Tarela. There are always terms and conditions.”
“You never told me!”
“You never asked.”
“You can’t be serious!”
“I am. You will never lay your eyes on him again.”
“AND ON YOU TOO!”
I smash my phone to the floor in anger. Revolting bitch telling me trash!
But like something out of a horror movie, I hear her laughter and look down to see my phone still on, her face still on my screen.
I pick the phone, march to the toilet and toss it into the toilet bowl. Without looking back, I enter my bedroom and fall on the bed. After several minutes of crying, everything around me begins to fade alongside my present reality.
I find myself in the past. Jide is lying on my bed. It’s a dark night. I’m sleepy; he’s holding my hand. He kisses my fingers. A bedside lamp illuminates his calm face as he gazes into my eyes.
“You’re beautiful, Tari.”
I smile hazily.
“And I love you.”
I shut my eyes…
Iya – mother
Yeye – useless, nonsense
Domot – front porch, verandah