Chapter 1: The Block and the Rebirth

Poor student Amaka Okoye dey always carry romantic fantasies for head like say na her birthright.

For hostel corridor, dem dey talk say she no fit pass mirror without pose or snap selfie—even when NEPA don take light, you go see her with torchlight dey adjust eyebrow. The corridor dey smell small of fried plantain from mama Nkechi room, and the distant hum of generator dey their background, but Amaka go still dey form pose like say she dey for movie audition. Sometimes, as you dey waka, you go hear her dey hum one Rema song for mouth, like say na she inspire the whole album. All these one no dey shock anybody again—Amaka own get her own style.

When I add her as friend just to send class updates, she sharply block me:

"Sorry, I no dey interested in that kind thing."

The block shock me. My hand weak, phone nearly drop. Block ke? Na wa. My guy Uche just hiss from back, say, "Na so she dey do. Any small thing, she go dey act like say people dey drag her everywhere. No worry, just face your lane."

When I help her carry suitcase with good mind, she come think say I dey crush on her:

"Even if you no fit win me, no be to put camera for my suitcase dey spy on me."

I just dey look am, mouth open, dey wonder who dey advise this babe. That day sef, as I stand, the corridor still get that beans and oil smell from dinner, some people for hostel dey laugh low for back. Dem talk say she dey watch too much film, dey suspect everybody like say she be secret agent for her mind.

Later, all her wahala tire me, but she still dey insist say I dey play hard to get:

She go wear tight skirt, begin waka pass my front, dey do all those pose wey dem dey show for film:

"Now wey you don get wetin you dey find, you go dey happy now, you this bad man."

As she waka pass, she go look back small, twist waist like say camera dey. Even some of the hostel girls dey side-eye am, dey whisper say Amaka don start her drama again. Me, I just bone face, waka dey go my own. Na my roommate, Seyi, nearly burst laugh for corridor.

I shock sotey I just waka comot, but na so she go do live video for WhatsApp status dey insult me:

"If you no like me, why you go dey lead me on? People wey dey betray true love, thunder go fire them!"

Some people for class watch am finish, begin dey forward for hostel group. For the group, some dey drop voice note, others dey spam sticker—one even send that popular 'God abeg' meme. Na so wahala full everywhere. One of my padi, Tolu, send me screenshot join, just dey shake head say, "Bro, you don enter wahala."

Last last, one mad person wey believe her story carry acid pour me, I die. As I dey ground dey struggle, hot pain bite my skin, my shout no fit come out. People just dey scatter, some dey record, nobody fit help. Amaka Okoye waka pass my dead body, come become campus goddess of pure love.

Dem say that day, Amaka no even look back. She just stand for crowd dey form as if she dey grieve, but na big camera her friend use snap her, dey post for all social. As dem snap her picture, girls dey wipe eye, boys dey hail, her followers dey multiply like beans for market. Her followers just dey increase anyhow.

When I open my eyes again, na that same day wey I first add Amaka Okoye as friend.

E shock me reach bone. I come dey look my hand, dey confirm say I still dey alive, no acid burn, nothing. Mosquito sef dey my ear, na so I slap am just to confirm say na real life I dey. But I swear, this time, Amaka Okoye no go use me shine.